I tiptoed around the kitchen this morning in the darkness. This is my usual pre-dawn behavior, particularly in the pandemic, as it’s the only time I don’t have four young kids on top of me. But today I found myself taking deep breaths, lining up school lunches for the first time in exactly a year, while lost in thought about the unique name we’ve given our son. I wondered how he would respond when someone inevitably mispronounced it. I wondered if he would speak up if he heard chuckling from other kids. I recalled all the times when little Nawal cried about being called Narwhal or Nasal, how quickly I learned to jump in with automaticity to save the teacher who struggled with the pronunciation of my own name.
As the daughter of Iranian immigrants, I know too many stories of erasure. We assimilated in all white spaces; we allowed for Anglicized versions of our names. I know too many Masouds turned Michaels and Taranehs turned Taras whose family stories became buried in order to avoid the very thing I worried about this morning: pressure to fit in.
When it came time to name our own children, we could have easily taken the easy route that gave them simply pronounced American names. But, a conversation from my childhood kept surfacing in a soup of memories that I couldn’t shake. It is of my father, coming home one night from his shift from Domino’s Pizza, upset that the manager asked for him to go by Karl instead of Kamal bc it would sound more welcoming to customers. And I remember my mother responded: Vali Kamal, ma nayamadim eenja ke khodemoon oh gom konim. Amadim Amrica ke khodemoono payda konim.
But we didn’t come here to lose ourselves, Kamal. We came to America to find ourselves.
That is why we made sure our four children carry a name from each side of their heritage. They’ve already had their fair share of pronunciation woes. But it’s more important to me that they know their rich legacies: that their namesakes come from both the Caribbean and the Persian Gulf. Each child has a name from my husband’s Latinx side, and a name from my Middle Eastern origins. Eliana Noor, Ehsan Noel, Ezzat Naya, and Eloisa Nasim. Their namesakes are the ancestors I want them to know.
So this morning, when I handed my 7-year-old his lunch, I squeezed both his cheeks in my hands and reminded him to correct misspellings and mispronunciations. I reminded him about his grandparents. I reminded him that his name carries the weight of its meaning: goodness.
And when he jumped in the car at pick up, on his very first day (in March!) of a ceaselessly challenging school year, in a new school building with a brand new teacher and all new classmates, he did me proud.
He said, “Mom, I told them my unique superpower is my name. I wrote EHSAN = INTEGRITY.”
Slice of Life, Day 1
You use the power of three in your writing with such impact. And I love how you have blended the moment with the importance of the history behind it. Just in this conversation, there’s so much to be learned about your family and what matters.
Oh– and I’m SO glad you’re here!
Absolutely beautiful. I love how you used images from daily life and specific details from the past and the present along with the more philosophical concepts—and I love that your son was able to turn challenge into triumph.
I read this extraordinary blog through tears, and I made my husband stop what he was doing so he could hear the beauty of your piece. The part that resonated the most was your memory of your father working at Dominos. Damn that was powerful. I will linger in the line, "Their namesakes are the ancestors I want them to know."
Stunning.
Exquisite.
Life-giving.
Thank you for sharing your words.
Nawal,
This is so powerful! So moving and so culturally relevant, rich and timely that it resonates with all of us who carry names with meaning and integrity. Your writing speaks volumes my friend and good for Ehsan on making his mom and dad proud. Asé ✊🏿❤️
What an amazing young man you are raising! I have many students who do not go by their given name at school (and even at home) and it is an erasure they may not even realize yet.
Such a beautiful tribute to being who we are and feeling proud of that. Names are important. Names carry weight. Names are powerful.
Exquisite.
So important to share the why!
And such proud Mother and son moments!
I kept coming back to the words your mother said to your father — years ago — about why they came to America. They came to find themselves. What a true and eloquent statement!
It sounds like we had similar conversations about choosing our children’s names. While our ethnicities are different, our choices were similar. My son was born in 2016 when there was a sharp rise in anti-Semitism in this country. We wanted to name him Ari, but we worried since we don’t live in a very Jewish place. We considered naming him Alexander. For weeks I kept coming back to Ari, even though Alexander was the safer choice. Eventually, we decided that we shouldn’t hide who we are and we went with Ari, which means lion in Hebrew. It’s a strong name in Israel. However, it’s constantly misprounced where we live in Central PA. He will have to spend years correcting people. However, despite that, there has never been a day that I’ve regretted giving my son a Hebrew first name.
I’m thrilled you’ve chosen to participate in this year’s SOLSC, Nawal. You are an exquisite writer.
Beautiful! “Their names are the ancestors I want them to know” is so powerful. I love that he is proud of his name! My 5yo is still navigating how to correct people on her Spanish name, but I’m so proud when I hear her do it, and she’s starting to do it more! I was a little nervous when I first named her, but I love the name and I was maybe overconfident of people being willing to learn it. Shocked how many people just seem to not care about getting it right. (It’s truly not hard!) I also loved your mom’s comment to your dad about not losing yourselves… why don’t people understand how much meaning is in a name?!
Names are so very important! This is a powerful Slice, one that needs to be shared over and over in celebration of our diverse nation. Thank you for deciding to share this story with our SOLSC community.
Ahhhhh…this gave me goosebumps. You have the ability to weave the past and the present and it makes for beautiful writing and a gift to readers. I am so much better because I read this. Thank you.
xo,
ruth
This is beautiful. Your children are fortunate to have you help build their identities with both love and pride, and for them to truly know who they are and the legacy of where they come from.
Oh. this fills my soul, Nawal! Thank you so much for sharing this all with us, all the more so because it’s a labor of love you are not required to do. We are not always a deserving audience. Your storytelling is charmed.
What a gift! This slice, this moment, your precious son, your mother’s extraordinary, inspirational quote, "But we didn’t come here to lose ourselves, Kamal. We came to America to find ourselves." Absolutely beautiful. Thank you!
This post is absolutely breathtaking! I love hearing your voice through your words and your recording. So many lines resonate, especially "But we didn’t come here to lose ourselves, Kamal. We came to America to find ourselves." I love your advice to your 7 year old. May I share this with my students to kick off our Empowerment unit? Your words are truly inspiring.
Thank you for sharing. This is a beautiful piece.
With parents like you, your children will surely “find themselves” proud and empowered. This slice sings on so many levels, both your word choice and message touched my heart. You exposed a situation unique to me. Our kids have names that are as common as you can get. At its finest, writing enables us to walk in the shoes of another and creates understanding and empathy. Thank you for words I won’t soon forget.
Thank you for sharing this beautiful and powerful piece of your story. “Soup of memories” is a a wonderful image as is you holding your sons cheeks in your hands.
This is so beautiful. And I love how your son shared his superpower. You can see all of your guidance shining through.
Wow!
I missed this one on 3/1 and am so glad I found it. What power in this line: But we didn’t come here to lose ourselves, Kamal. We came to America to find ourselves.
What strong children you are raising… challenging them to help others to do better.
You should preface this story by saying you’re going to need a tissue at the end! This is very touching to read how empowering his name is to him. I really appreciate this background and perspective.
Nawal, it sounds like Ehsan has another important super power: His voice. Beautiful post, dear! Thank you.
My heart! Such a beautiful piece, and such a poignant moment for you and Ehsan.