2007 - Secondary - First Place Winner

Sanne Rodriguez, 8th Grade (Age 13)
Riverside Middle School - Greer, SC
Title: My Name Equals Me, Essay

Teacher: Mrs. Dobinski


Jan 10, 2007

My Name Equals Me

My great-grandfather is Mexican. My great-grandfather is Mexican. I have no idea how often I repeated those words. My great-grandfather was Mexican. He passed the name on to my grandfather, who passed it on to my father, who passed it on to me.

I was born in America. When I was seven, my family moved to the Netherlands, a small European country.

"What is your name?" my teacher asked.

"Sanne Rodriguez," I answered. The children in my class laughed. I didn’t understand.

"And how do you spell that?" the teacher asked me, not even trying to shush the children.

"R-O-D-R-I-G-U-E-Z." Little would I know that that would also be drilled into my head. I heard a girl in the back of the classroom mimic me softly.

"R-O-D-R-Q-E-U-S."

"It’s R-O-D-R-I-G-U-E-Z," I told her, but that made them laugh even more.

A year after that, in third grade, kids made it a game to rhyme words with the 'Rod' part of my name. Popular ones were "Redriguez" and "Deadriguez." The teacher wouldn’t even bother to try and make them shut up.

It wasn’t until fourth grade when I refused to correct the kids. People called me a Mexican or Spanish, whatever suited them, even though my skin is light and my hair is brown and I can only say a few words in Spanish.

In fourth grade, my parents decided to move to the capital of the province Friesland: Leeuwarden. I was happy, because I could finally leave that school. I remember a boy named Harre who cornered me during the break, kicking me against my shins,

"Go back to Mexico."

When I moved to Leeuwarden, I thought that kids there would bully me, too, but it was the opposite. The kids didn’t laugh. They asked me questions about where I got my name, if I was Mexican or American, and if I could speak English or Spanish. I couldn’t speak Spanish, but the girls in that class and I had a lot of fun yelling,

"Girls rule and boys rule!" and no one but us would know what we were talking about.

Three years after that, I moved back to America, which was only two-and-a-half months ago, people always ask how you pronounce my first name (Sanne: Saun-uh) and if the sauna was named after me. It’s still difficult, and I’m annoyed when someone makes a smart comment about my name, but I now realize I am my name.

My name tells about my Mexican roots, and how I’m part Dutch and part American. No matter where I live, people will think one of my names is odd, but at least I know who I am. I can’t help but to be proud when I say,

"My great-grandfather is Mexican."