on a name

I was supposed to be named Rochelle. “Little rock.” Instead, Shantai. The sounds don’t come out right for most people. I learned early on to answer to shh. I answer to accidents and false starts.

I got a name of indecision, one with two paths: Chanter and Shanti, to sing and peace,

to sing in peace

and it’s spelt wrong for both. Makes sense; it wasn’t planned. Shantai was a lyrical suggestion from the lips of a stranger on the day before the night I left the womb.


My name is lonely. No keychains or mugs or fake license plates at roadside gift shops. Nothing that smiles back and says, “You’re not the only one. There are others like you.” She’s not a Susan, or an Anthony, or even an Angela. She’s a, “I don’t know how to spell that.” Or a, “Enchantée Shantai, c’est rigolo!”


Once, I met my name’s homonym. It was on Halloween when everyone pretends to be what they aren’t or shows who they truly are. I was seven, maybe eight, and it was the early evening. The moon’s light and the gold of streetlamps must’ve made everything a blue green over grey because that’s the color of this memory.

I was drowning in my mother’s sky blue nursing scrubs with her stethoscope hooked around my neck, bandaged up in other people’s expectations and fallen ambitions.

At the trick-or-treating spot off White Plains Road, I opened the front passenger door of the minivan and watched my brothers tumble out onto the sidewalk, checkered smiles of growing teeth glowing in the night with high-pitched squeals escaping through the gaps. Somewhere during their loud tumble towards a night of sweets and future gum disease, I heard my name. The voice was new to me.

I turned and looked anyway because like any dog—I mean, child—I had been trained to look when spoken to, to answer when called. And for the first time, my name wasn’t mine. Shantai was another girl, with hair pressed and curled into a sea of Shirley Temples. She and her friends had no chaperone. She was too big for that. She was a blue princess.

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “on a name”

  1. ‘I was drowning in my mother’s sky’ is a stunning line. It baffles with inversion & depth.
    Shantai is a wonderful name. i first learned its meaning from the end of The Waste Land after he thunder speaks “da” 3 shantis are called to close & the rain is falling in the desert of that land.

    Like

      1. i am actually a little jealous you getting to experience The Waste Land for the first time. it is perhaps one of the most famous poems in the English language— a really very seminal work in the history of literature & stands up to its name, it is an astonishing achievement in form & imagery. i recommend you read accompanied by T.S. Eliot’s reading of his own poem, it really does help he get into that world & understand the different voices that inhabit it, even if Eliot’s voice seems drab, he dramatizes the poem with a curious ease. here is the link. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CqvhMeZ2PlY

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s