I-S-A-A-C

It all started on September 8, 2003. This is the day I was born into this new world. At first my mom had intentions of naming me Isaiah, but then later changed her mind and named me Isaac. I always wondered why my mom chose the name Isaac, but I never really got the chance to ask her. In elementary school I was the only Isaac for my first couple years. Then when I was in 2nd grade I started to hear my name being shouted across the playground almost everyday. I figured out a new kid named Isaac had switched to my school. For a while it was hard for me to get used to the constant calling of my name, but after a while it was just a daily thing that I had to get used to.

When I moved on to middle school, there were so many kids walking around school and there had to be at least one kid named Isaac in this huge school. All throughout middle school I never met anyone named Isaac and it sort of made me feel special in a way. I’m pretty sure there was a kid named Isaac somewhere in my school but I never really heard my name being called unless the person was calling me. When I heard the name Isaac, I knew for a fact that I was being called. Many people have told me many times before that they really liked my name and want my name. Hearing this brought a smile to my face knowing that people would rather have my name then the name they had for their whole life.

There were many times in my life when I hated my name. Not because of people making fun of it or anything but it really got to my head when I would hear my mom screaming my name all the time when she was mad at me. I hated this moment in time when I would always get in trouble and every 10 seconds I would hear, “ISAAC”. Then there were times where I absolutely loved hearing my name coming out of others mouth. Hearing my name being called because I won the MVP for basketball, hearing my name because I was selected for the LA City All Stars in the 6th grade, and hearing my name being called to accept that championship trophy. 

Not many people know this about me, mostly my closest friends know, but when I was 13 I got sent to a group home in Utah because of my behavior at home. I still remember to this day, when I was getting my intake done, the way the staff butchered my name. Now people often pronounce my name wrong but this was the worst one I’ve heard yet. When he was introducing me to the rest of the boys, he said, “This is Esack”. That is exactly how he pronounced my name in front of the rest of the house. As soon as he said this, the whole house started dying in laughter and I felt my face getting hotter by the second. For the next six months of my life, I was known as Esack. 

When I finally was able to come home, it felt so good hearing the name Isaac again. Hearing my real name was like music to my ears. I then entered highschool and everything was back to normal. I told my mom about the whole name butchering thing and she found it funny to call me that for a couple days.

Many people don’t like the names that their parents give them. They often grow up and maybe even change their names, but me.. I love my name. I love the story behind it and how I was named. I feel like the name Isaac suits me very well and fits my character. Many of my friends agree with me because Isaac means laughter in the Hebrew language, and apparently I’m pretty funny. I am glad to have my name. Isaac.