Two years ago, in Honors American Literature, we were required as a class to research the meaning of our name and expand on its symbolism. It took so long for me to realize how when I searched “Daniele” and the results came back blank, it was what really made me. I was in charge of that meaning and wasn’t limited to any set definition. I wouldn’t let the internet depict what I was, or what I would later be. I wanted to be the individual who would give the definition, not be restricted by it. In my entire life people have constantly misspelled, mispronounced and ridiculed my name for its feminine appearance. However after 17 years, I’ve ultimately realized how I will not let other’s immature opinions affect me. It is my name that is the part that distinguishes me among a class of 456 students, if not a school of almost 2,500. And what lies beneath my name is my culture; a culture that originates in the sole roots of Tuscany, Italy. With a father born in Florence, Italy and mother born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania I’ve had the privilege of living within my very own melting pot. Italian culture is one of the few things in this world that sets my heart on fire and my name derives from this culture. My name and my Italian culture have instilled passion in my soul and for that, I would defend both to my death.
The experiences my name has brought me have taught me life principles. Ignoring others remarks that are intended to hurt me is a principle I have used solely for the sake of my name in the past. But now, because it has