My Name Garret Research Paper

Although many people may look at a first name as just another typical name, my first name is Anthony, and in my family the name tends to hold sentimental value to people like my father and a select part of his immediate family. Many people choose to call me Anthony, but I also have select groups of friends and family who choose to call me by nicknames. Certain friends of mine call me Tony, yet a portion of my family prefers Antonio as the nickname of choice. The name Anthony has a bit of personal family history behind it. The best way to sum up this history is through a tragic story. The tragic story behind my name goes like this; I

What's the story behind your name? Do you have a special family name? Share your reponse down below! I would love to read them!ould love to read them!

Names will always be different for everyone. They all come from a different backstory or a different meaning and my name is no exception. Although my first name doesn’t provide anything interesting about me, I know I have several stories discussing my middle and last name. From all the long and amazing

This week's reading, Jonathan Lee's “Vietnamese in America” (pages 128 to 138) in History of Asian Americans: Exploring Diverse Roots, explores the resettlement process of Vietnamese refugees in the United States. What interested me most was the intergenerational conflict between 1-generation Vietnamese Americans and 1.5- and second-generation Vietnamese Americans. The “rescue psychology,” the guilt for losing the Vietnam War which fueled humanitarian efforts to help displaced refugees, mitigated the resettlement of first wave refugees. The US government allocated generous aid and instituted programs and policies in order to assist first wave refugees with their resettlement and integration into American society (Lee 128). Furthermore, most

My full name is Ashley Rebekah Olney. My first name has no particular meaning to my family; however, from what I can ascertain, it is the traditional spelling of a word of English origin, meaning, lives in the ash tree grove, or some variant of that phrase. My name was chosen not for its meaning but rather because it was a very popular baby name in the 1990s that my father liked and because my mother chose my older sister’s name and she had no aversion to the name, she agreed to name me Ashley. My middle name was also suggested by my father, but it is more significant to me because is also my mother’s name and I have always felt that it formally expresses our very close relationship and similarites. Furthermore, both my mother and father’s families have traditions of selecting middle names based on the names of parents and grandparents, so

Gerald, which I got from my dad’s father, James Gerald Smaglick, is an Old German name that means “mighty (Smaglick) (Astoria).” I kind of expected more than just my name to be German. Also, I guess my parents knew that I would be a protector someday. Gerald, which is ranked number 764 in popularity in the United States, is derived from names such as Gerry and Jerry (Behind the Name). I did not know how popular my middle name was. Also, it makes sense that Gerry and Jerry are derivatives of my middle name. After I finished researching my middle name, I then started to find information about my last

In the early 1970s my husband, Henry Pham, was born into a middle class family in Saigon, Vietnam when the war was going on between the South and the North of Vietnam. My husband's family lived very prosperous and happy. My husband's father was an engineer. My husband's mother was staying at home to take care of her children. In April 1975 marked the end of the war, and North and South Vietnam were reunified. It was a great victory for Northerners, but the Southerners were a tremendous loss when Saigon belonged to the North government. After the Vietnam War, the Vietnamese government confiscated property of his family. The Vietnamese government thought that, his family was involved with the South government and American military. Before the losses and difficulties of the

My parents from Cambodia, grew up during the communist era, ran by Pol Pot, the dictator. My dad would tell me stories of how at the age of fourteen, he would have to herd cows and struggle to find food. During the fall of the communist era, my dad got separated from his family. He fled to Vietnam, got on a small boat to travel to Thailand and was put into a refugee camp. At the refugee camp, my dad was reunited with his older sister and younger brother. The American Embassy decided to send my dad and his siblings to the United States. My dad came to America with only the clothes on his back. He tells me that the lowest point in his life was when he accepted 10 dollars from a man to buy shoes. From that moment on, my dad wanted to work hard so that he would never have to feel hunger and be poor.

In Thailand, my parents lived in a refugee camp until a relative responded to their letters asking for sponsorship to America. When the green light was given, the Thai

Gudeman. Isch. Bahler. Kieser. Schlater. Last names are extremely common, but have you ever wondered where yours came from? If people had the same first name before the last name was ever thought of, how did they say who they were or who the person was they were talking about is? Ages ago, people did not have any last names. In today’s world, last names are very common. The main question is who came up with surnames.

I, Tien Nguyen, for as long as I could remembered was born in Vietnam in the small suburban called Phan Thiet. Being the oldest child at the time, I was often spoiled by my parents as much as possible and at the age of 2, we ventured off to the United State. Living in the Wichita, Kansas was not easy, the weather had a detrimental effect on my father as he was not yet accustomed to the cold ambiance. However, even throughout that struggle, my father managed to work and on August 16, 2004, I received a little brother by the name of Thang Ngoc Nguyen.

When it was time to give me my name, my parents decided to give me my name, my parents decided to give me three first names: Joelle Czarisse Mae. From what I was told, my father and mother wanted to give me a name they thought of themselves and a name they thought of together. The name ‘Joelle’ was from my father, after his own name ‘Joel’. The name ‘Mae’ was from my mother, using the available letters in her own full name. The name ‘Czarisse’ was the name both of my parents thought of together. In all honesty, I feel no animosity towards any of my three names. Having three names can be convenient during certain situations, but sometimes, my name could be an adversary for me whenever the school mistakes me for my sister because we share one

People usually do not think about the name they were given by their parents. I have never questioned my name and where it has come from. It is like asking, “Why are animals named the way that they are?” A further look into my name revealed that it originates from the Arabic language. Coming from Iranian descent, I am not Arab which means I speak Farsi. In both languages, my name means “guidance”.

My parents did not come to San Diego with a lot of money, they only had ten million dong when they came, which to me sounded like a lot but my mom laughed and told me it was a thousand dollars in the U.S. For my parents, this meant they would go homeless in two months if one of them did not find any sort of work. For the first month, it was very difficult for them to find a job because they did not know how to find one. My mother would tell me how my father was a very strong man and yet no one would hire him because he would not know what to say during the interview. My mother would tell me how there were many nights she would fall asleep crying because she would think back to Vietnam when she was with her family and friends, where she did not feel limited or restricted by anything but money, and how now that she was here in San Diego, it was not only money but also her opportunity to socialize and communicate with many of the people around her. Even with my father by her side, she felt helpless and excluded from the community, like she no longer had a voice. Fortunately, near the end of the first month, one of the Vietnamese neighbors actually noticed my parents and greeted them. This man had a family and welcomed my parents greatly. He even helped my father find a job and get access to government services such as rent assistance, Medi-Cal and Food Stamps. Many immigrants share the same experiences my parents

I was two years old when I waved goodbye to the most precious person in my life - my father. Due to some legalization problems, he was deported from America. Seeing my dad leave was very austere for me, but my mom kept consoling me. After that day,my mother would always awaken to me asking: “Is he was home yet?" and she would look at me with tears in her eyes, very afraid to utter “no.” After my brother turned 6 months old, my mom was forced to make an arduous decision: either stay in America to provide my brother and me basic necessities without the love and protection of our dad OR struggle to start a new life in Pakistan with my dad.