INTRO

THE  INSPIRATION BEHIND THIS BLOG

When you meet someone for the first time, there is usually an introduction that is made. This introduction will most likely involve a greeting (e.g. Hello, Hi, Nice to meet ya, etc), and then is followed by an exchange of one key piece of information ... you guessed it - A NAME! I think it is fair to say that one thing that binds us all together, is the simple fact that we all have a name(s). I usually try to steer away from using complete absolutes, but personally, I have never met anyone who didn't have a name. Come to think of it, I wouldn't even know what to do if the situation ever presented itself. Like, what would you call them? I am under no illusion that what I have just argued isn't simply anecdotal evidence, and I am sure there is someone out there that could prove me wrong. However, what I am simply suggesting is that whoever that someone is ... they most likely have a name, or at least know someone who does. The world is vast, and holds an array of different people, cultures, beliefs and experiences, but one thing that most people have in common, is that they have a name, a label, something that identifies them and makes them distinct. I think names are important, but the purpose of this blog isn't to prove the universal use of names or argue their importance, but instead, suggest that names have the potential to empower, and encourage one's life meaning, relationships, and purpose.

Another anecdote

When I was younger than I am now, I had a bit of an identity crisis. Sounds a lot more dramatic than it really was, but at the time it sure felt that way. In primary school, teachers and students knew me as Ange, but outside of school however, my family and friends referred to me by my middle name; Keyla. This didn’t seem to be much of an issue, until both areas of my life began to merge. I remember being asked by one of my school friends why my mother called me by a different name. I simply explained to them that Keyla was my middle name. This didn’t exactly explain why my mother referred to me by my middle name instead of my given name, but thinking about it now, I realize that I wasn’t the only one in the house that was referred to by their middle name. Around this time, I remember not being so fond of my names. People usually didn't know how to pronounce them properly due to a number of factors, but that's a story for another day.  Anyway, I approached my mother one day, and asked her something along the lines of; “why did you give me my names”? At this point my mother was used to me randomly asking her questions, and I had previously earned myself the nickname of “Kwanini”, which means “why” in Swahili (the first language I ever spoke). My mother sat me down, and told me a story, and it went something along the lines of this:

Context 

Culturally, when a baby is born, the community would come together to meet the newborn and perform a naming ceremony. Everyone in attendance would get the chance to throw in a name that they thought would suit the baby. It was believed that the name that was given to the child would carry a meaning and a calling upon their life. At this point I was intrigued as it had not even occurred to me that people's names could have meaning so I naturally asked what my names meant. My mother gave me three names, the first being Ange, the second being Keyla, and the third being Keza. I will go into the etymologies of my first two names on a future post, but for the sake of introducing this blog, and remaining concise, I am going to focus on my last name which is the inspiration for this blog. I already knew the meaning of Ange since I went to a french school and Ange is the french translation of the word “angel”. Keyla, my mother told me, meant guardian or fortress, and was inspired by scripture. But the meaning of my last name ; Keza, is what really left an impression on me.

More Context

Last names, also known as family names are what most of the time binds a group of people together by common ancestry. Emphasis on “most of the time”. This however is not the same in every culture.You see, everyone in my immediate family has a different last name. This has made it awkward at times when my mother would pick me up from school functions or when we would travel together. In most western countries, every member of your family having a different last name is a bit abnormal.  I remember asking my mother why we all had different last names. She simply explained that traditionally in our culture, your last name could be more than just a family name, but an individual one given specifically to you. This brings us back to the story of the meaning of my names. At this point I was hooked. I was about to learn the meaning of the last and final name in the sequence of my identity. What I heard next however, is not what I was expecting. My mother explained that Keza means beautiful in Kinyarwanda (Rwanda’s traditional language), and that together my names mean “beautiful guardian angel”. She said this is who she believed I was meant to become, and I have always carried that with me.

Okay last thing, I swear!

Growing up, I wrestled with the idea of beauty, as I am sure a lot of people can relate to. This is why this last definition has stayed with me throughout the years. Being an angel I can understand, being a guardian even was somewhat digestible, but being beautiful however has been a tougher pill to swallow. In a lot of ways, I feel as though, as a woman, my status in society is heavily weighed on this notion of beauty. But what does that even really mean - and do I have a say? Going through adolescence until now being in my early twenties, the word beautiful brings up more questions than answers. What does it mean to be beautiful? Does it only have to do with my body and physical appearance? Media and instagram feeds would have me think so. But maybe there’s more to beauty that involves other aspects of myself. What does it look like to have a beautiful mind, beautiful soul and a beautiful spirit? What do these words even mean? What is true beauty? 

I have changed a lot throughout the years, but three things that have stuck with me are my names, my love for deeper conversations, and my undying need to ask questions and have them answered. That conversation with my mother changed the way I viewed others through their names, but more importantly changed the way I viewed myself. Everyone has a name (most likely), and those names have meaning, and stories behind them. Names are the ways we identify ourselves and each other, but more interestingly, names also have the power of identifying who we are, and who we are becoming. Join me on this journey of me becoming all that I am, but more specifically, becoming beautiful (i.e. BECOMING KEZA).

         

What's your name, and WHO ARE YOU BECOMING ?

This is Meta ↑, she will accompanying us on this journey.
Look out for her throughout the blog.