That's Not My Name

(http://i.ytimg.com/vi/ExeDBe9eCxY/hqdefault.jpg)

Parents are given the most special and influential task when they bring a child into the world. They must name them. (And, to raise them. I guess.) Even though names are just sounds that we associate with people, they are big factors in deciding the kind of person we are going to become. (I’m not going to get into the common misconceptions and stereotypes of different names because that’s messy.) This is the story with my name.

When I was born, my parents decided to not name me after any of the 200 most common female names of 1995. They chose to name me with this obscure Mexican name, in addition to giving it a very uncommon spelling. My name became Vianey. Pronounced like Vee-uh-nay.

As a kid, I was embarrassed and annoyed of my name. It was too unique! No one knew how to say it correctly. People constantly misspelled it. Sometimes, they would even plead to call me by a different name. (There was no way out of my God-given first name since I have no middle name.) This would happen everywhere! Teachers, peers, host, and hostesses would butcher my name. People who have unique names, or unique spellings of common names, should know what I mean. If not, then Buzzfeed should give you the insight you require.

As my tastes and personality matured, I began to appreciate the uniqueness of my name. My name made me feel like an individual who stood above the basic. In my eyes, I had the best and coolest identity because of my name. Some of the things that I like about my name include that half of the letters are vowels, it looks cute written in cursive, and people rarely have to ask “which Vianey?” when I’m brought up in conversations. (I don’t care if that might have negative connotations.)

However, like most things in my life, everything great doesn’t last. When I got to high school, I realized that there was about four girls with the same name as me. From there, the uniqueness of my name was stripped away from me… People had already learned the easy way of pronouncing my name, which is saying my name like DNA but with a V instead of a D. Even though there was still some people that would add an extra “N” to the spelling of my name, they would quickly fix their mistake… I sincerely yearned to correct people. (I’m not demented! It’s just that you do something all your life and all of a sudden it stops, you miss doing it.)

I slowly began to deal with this. I was not as unique as I thought I was. That’s cool, I guess… But then, an additional turning point of life with my name occurred. At my university, I have many professors that are not native to my city, El Paso, TX. (A city with a predominately large Hispanic/Latino/a population.) Since they hail from places like Pennsylvania, San Antonio, Turkey, England, one might assume that they’ve never heard my name. And, this was assumed correctly. When they would take row, they could not, for the sake of their life, say my name. One specific professor, who has Hispanic and Irish roots in her, doesn’t even try to pronounce my name, no matter how many times I have explained it to her. (She takes row in every class. It’s halfway through the semester. This is agony, son.)

Yes, this whole rant is based on these situations. It’s annoying. My point here is that if I’m going to try in your class, you better try with my name. Like Mindy Kaling eloquently puts it in her book, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?, 

“I don’t think it should be socially acceptable for people to say they are “bad with names.” No one is bad with names. That is not a real thing. Not knowing people’s names isn’t a neurological condition; it’s a choice. You choose not to make learning people’s names a priority. It’s like saying, “Hey, a disclaimer about me: I’m rude.””

http://theduanewells.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/Mindy-Kaling-Book-Cover.jpg 

I’m glad that there are at least three professors so far in my collegiate education who have succeeded in pronouncing my name, but there are still ways to go.

Even though sometimes I wish I could have a common name, I immediately regret that wish and I go back to loving my name. Sure, it might suck to have to constantly correct people, but I like correcting people. The biggest downside I see to my name is that there might never be a love song with my name in it. Regardless, my name is rad! It’s my main identity and I’m not shedding it, ever. Even my grave will showcase the uniqueness of it for generations to enjoy. (In addition, there has been people who have loved my name so badly that their children's names became younger copycats of my name. So, I'm the main trendsetter.)

<3

- Vianey A.K.A. The Trendsetter

Bonus: There was this 1960s Mexican singer who did Spanish covers of The Beatles with my name. (Correct spelling and everything.) Here is her cover of "Twist and Shout". 

(This makes me so happy because of five reasons. (1) I love The Beatles. (2) I love Ferris Bueller's Day Off. (3) This cover is made in my first language. (4) She has my name. (5) She is wearing cute clothes in the album cover.)

Vianey is a nineteen year old self-identified ranter who can be easily wooed by funny three-dimensional TV characters. When she is not watching sitcoms, bugging her pets, or dancing sporadically she posts every Friday on Kaleid-Eh-Scope.