Narrative Essay On Hispanic Family

Immigrants, since the mass immigration in the 19th century, have been changing their names to sound more American. Most feel that if they add an American name they will be more successful. Firoozeh Dumas’s excerpt “The ‘F Word’” was taken from Funny in Farsi: A Memoir of Growing Up Iranian in America, published in 2003. Dumas tells her story about what growing up with an Iranian name feels like. She came to America, at the age of seven, knowing that challenges would arise, but what she did not know was someone would change her name into a complete insult and judge her because of it. Hoping she would make it through these obstacles she stepped blindly into the United States. Dumas tells her story by writing with a precise style of writing; using irony, metaphors, and excellent word choice, making it easy to understand her arguments.

She then began getting many job offers with her American name. This proved that her name was the only thing holding her back from being successful.

Jenna Rodriguez is not a Jennifer, Jenny-Ann, or even a Jenny. On Jenna Rodriguez’s birth certificate, it is only Jenna. The variations of the longer form of Jenna seem somehow uncharacteristic of the true character of Jenna Rodriguez and her parents seemed to understand that when they named her. Although it is difficult to understand, Jenna’s name seems perfectly fitting for who she is. Perhaps it is the characteristics of who she is that make her name fit perfectly into place with who she is, especially from the perspective of a new friend like myself.

“ Names/ nicknames” is a short story by Julia Alvarez that goes over Julia’s life with her culture. As she tries to follow up with her Dominican culture and her life in the US. The author explores the importance of names and how they shape our identities. Alvarez, an immigrant from the Dominican Republic, reflects on how her name was mispronounced, misspelled and also misunderstood in her new home in the U.S. She tells the power of a name and how it can connect us to our original homes and roots.

My grandmother's name was inspired by her father's mother who was also called Maria and died days before she was born.

My mom was a reader. She was a slow reader, but a reader nonetheless. Her favorite book to this day is A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty White. The main Character’s name is Mary Frances Nolan. My mom decided then that my name would be Frances. Well, that didn’t work because my dad didn’t like that name. So anyway, my mom also loved a set of children’s books about a badger named Frances (she is an elementary school teacher), and the badger’s little sister’s name was Gloria. I was named Gloria after the little sister, or I was named after Gloria Estefan if you ask my dad.

My parents were set on girl names; if I was a girl, my name would be Lauren, after my Grandpa Loren. Thinking of a middle name became a little difficult. My mom’s mom name was MariLee, and my parents wanted to take something from her name. Finally making a decision, they chose to take the “Lee” out as my middle name. Naming a boy would be a little different; my parents wanted the name Dalton. The only reason behind that is because my mom liked the name; I beg to differ.

In Firoozeh Dumas’s story, “The F Word” from Funny in Farsi: A Memoir of Growing Up Iranian in America (2003), Dumas recalls her struggle of growing up in America with an Immigrant name. She begins her story by telling us the similar struggle her brother, cousin, and friends went through right along side of her. The kids at their school took their Iranian names, which had a special meaning in their country, and turned them into a cruel joke. She goes on to tell us that all the immigrants knew that moving to America would come with its own set of new challenges, but nobody expected to be the joke of the school because of their names. Her name, Firoozeh, which means “turquoise” in Persian, translated to “Unpronounceable” in America. At the age of twelve, Dumas was fed up of the laughing and name calling. She tried to simplify her life by adding an American middle name to her impossibly hard to pronounce Iranian name. Her decision for an American middle name grew intenser after kids began calling her “Ferocious” in fifth grade. That summer when she moved to Newport Beach, she declared to her family that she wanted to add an American middle name to her name. Immune from mockery, she asked for suggestions from her family members and she finally settled with the name “Julie” as her new American middle name. That afternoon, she introduced herself for the first time as Julie to a neighbor girl her age, who coincidentally was also named Julie. Her life in sixth grade became much simpler because people were actually remembering her name for a change. There were only two problems: people spoke poorly about immigrants in front of her because they didn’t see her as an immigrant with her American name and she no longer felt like herself.

This journal speaks on how names are seen as some form of “talent” as it is bestowed upon us on birth. This also has religious implications as some feel as their name is a gift talent given from god. Everyone's name within “their eyes were watching god mean something. An example of this would be Tea Cake. “John Callahan says that Tea Cake "revivifies" names” . The names also have a slightly overshadowed sense of racism, as in a way most of the names given to black people have a sort of dumbed down approach to them. Going back to the complete disregard of the “Afro-American” culture by the

Her essay is aimed at Middle Americans or other immigrants living in the country who face the same issue as her. Having a name that is uncommon and hard to pronounce, can be a challenge for the peers of those with the names. The claim is not being made toward the easy to pronounce Bill’s, Susan’s, and Richard’s. The claim is also not aimed at professionals or people of

During the time my grandparents were married they were considered to be upper class. My grandfather was a land owner in town. He helped other Hispanic people so they could have a place to live while they got a job until they were able to pay him rent. My grandparents separated in 1953 and were divorced in 1958. At that time, it was unheard of for women especially of Hispanic decent to divorce their husbands. Once divorced, she went home to live with her parents. My grandmother later became employed as a housekeeper and worked for $1.00 an hour. She lived on her own in the early 1970’s, and then she moved in with my parents and me. I was surprised to find out from reading the text book from this class this semester that as I am considered

My Aunt Carla’s middle name is also Marie and because of our common middle name, I have always been close to her

“My Name” by Sandra Cisneros is a short excerpt from her book The House on Mango Street (1984). In this excerpt, Cisneros narrator is a girl named Esperanza, who is telling us that her name reminds her of a lot of negatives things, including who she inherited it from. Esperanza is trying to convince us that her name is a terrible name, which is built up of negativity and bad history. She state that she was named after her great-grandmother, who was born in the Chinese year of the horse, which they have in common, and is well known for her wild customs which lead to her feeling sad and lonely all her life. Esperanza specifies that her name sound beautiful among Spanish speakers, but to non-Spanish speakers her name is pronoun funny “as if the syllables were made out of tin and hurt the roof of your mouth” she says. She indicated that she would like to baptize herself under a new

A name is not just what you’re called, it is who you are. It is what you stand for and ultimately defines you as a person. Growing up, I used to think my name did not fit me and that nothing that my name stood for had anything to do with me. Now that I am older, I understand the real meaning of my name and how the traits that are connected with my name relate to the person that I have become and continue to develop into. My name represents who I am and who I plan to be.

They would taunt me and tell me that I wasn't a real Mexican, that I was a fake who had no place to belong. All because of a name that was passed down my one fourth of my family tree. Their assumption was based on location, they grew up in the Las Vegas valley, where Lovato is uncommon. If they grew up in Albuquerque they would realize that there are thousand of hispanic’s who have that name. The only thing that changed people’s perception of my name was when Demi Lovato came to fame. The name became more recognizable connecting it to Mexican heritage, yet everyone assumed that I was somehow related to her. My name went from obsolete to well known based on someone in the public eye who randomly had the same name as me. I wonder if that happens with other people who have the same last names as celebrities, does that change the perception of that name. If I met someone with the last name Winfrey, I would automatically think of Oprah even if the person looked nothing like her. It’s interesting how certain people shape the perception of a name thousands of people probably