My Name
Sandra Cisnero's classic short story My Name explores her name through origin, sound, and feel. If I wrote a story about my name it would be happy, quirky, inquisitive, and fun--just like my name. Suffice it to say I really like my name. I like that it's short and sassy; it rolls easily off the tongue, and it's easy to spell:).
I was born on Easter morning and legend has it that Grandpa Porter wanted to name me Bunny (Easter . . . Bunny . . . I would never live that name down). Dad was in the Army when I was born and he was stationed at Fort Ord California. He didn't find out that I had arrived until he called to wish Mom a Happy Birthday (Mom's birthday is two days before mine). According to Dad (and he ought to know), he chose my name just because he liked it--that makes two of us.
My maiden name of Black isn't as easy to trace. My original Black ancestors (no pun intended) came from Antrim, Ireland. During the Industrial Revolution Jane and William Black, along with their four children George, William, Mary, and Joseph migrated from Ireland to Manchester, England seeking work. It was in Manchester that they heard Mormon missionaries preach the gospel, joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and hence emigrated to America. Most records agree that they were the very first Irish converts to the Church. I've had some funny experiences with my last name (Black). In grade school I was fairly shy. On the first day of school all of the the students met in the gym. The teachers would stand at the microphone and read out the names of the students in their class. They read the student's last name first (I'm sure you can see where this is going). Every year when the teacher read the name "Black, Jill" I was doomed. Everyone in the auditorium would laugh and the teasing would start. Yikes! Several years later Mom raised cucumbers to earn enough money to put new carpet in our living room; she loved that carpet. In an effort to keep muddy little feet off her new carpet she hung a sign on the front door that read "Children use the back door." After several neighbor children tromped all the way around the house to use the back door she amended her sign to read; "Black children use the back door." I'm sure you can see the problem here. A salesman came to the door and told her, "Lady, that is the most bigoted sign I've ever seen!" The sign came down.
Growing up I had a good friend named Layna Guymon. I loved to write her name in cursive because the cursive capital "L" was such a cool letter. To this day I love writing my last name--I never tire of styling the sweeping loopy lovely letter "L." So glad I married John and became a Larsen. Larsen is a Danish name. Our original Larsen forebear was Lars Johansen. Using Danish naming patronymics his son was named John Lars-son or Larsen.
During my life I've had a few nicknames. I moved to Highland when I was in the third grade. I attended Greenwood Elementary and made some wonderful new friends. It was a mark of includedness to have a nickname and my friends named me Jelly Bean. I acquired another nickname as an adult. When she was learning to talk my sweet niece Marin had trouble pronouncing my name; her pronunciation sounded like "Jolly." I've carried that nickname ever since. Unfortunately, I hate nicknames; I don't like them for other people and I hate them for myself:(
According to name.com
“The name Jill originated as a shortened or pet version of the names
Gillian or Jillian, which derive from the name the Latin Julian meaning
“downy-bearded,” “youthful” or “youth.” The name Jill evolved into a name
bestowed as a given first name in its own right.”
My maiden name of Black isn't as easy to trace. My original Black ancestors (no pun intended) came from Antrim, Ireland. During the Industrial Revolution Jane and William Black, along with their four children George, William, Mary, and Joseph migrated from Ireland to Manchester, England seeking work. It was in Manchester that they heard Mormon missionaries preach the gospel, joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and hence emigrated to America. Most records agree that they were the very first Irish converts to the Church. I've had some funny experiences with my last name (Black). In grade school I was fairly shy. On the first day of school all of the the students met in the gym. The teachers would stand at the microphone and read out the names of the students in their class. They read the student's last name first (I'm sure you can see where this is going). Every year when the teacher read the name "Black, Jill" I was doomed. Everyone in the auditorium would laugh and the teasing would start. Yikes! Several years later Mom raised cucumbers to earn enough money to put new carpet in our living room; she loved that carpet. In an effort to keep muddy little feet off her new carpet she hung a sign on the front door that read "Children use the back door." After several neighbor children tromped all the way around the house to use the back door she amended her sign to read; "Black children use the back door." I'm sure you can see the problem here. A salesman came to the door and told her, "Lady, that is the most bigoted sign I've ever seen!" The sign came down.
Growing up I had a good friend named Layna Guymon. I loved to write her name in cursive because the cursive capital "L" was such a cool letter. To this day I love writing my last name--I never tire of styling the sweeping loopy lovely letter "L." So glad I married John and became a Larsen. Larsen is a Danish name. Our original Larsen forebear was Lars Johansen. Using Danish naming patronymics his son was named John Lars-son or Larsen.
During my life I've had a few nicknames. I moved to Highland when I was in the third grade. I attended Greenwood Elementary and made some wonderful new friends. It was a mark of includedness to have a nickname and my friends named me Jelly Bean. I acquired another nickname as an adult. When she was learning to talk my sweet niece Marin had trouble pronouncing my name; her pronunciation sounded like "Jolly." I've carried that nickname ever since. Unfortunately, I hate nicknames; I don't like them for other people and I hate them for myself:(
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