The Writer’s Corner features poetry, essays, short stories, satire and various fiction and nonfiction from SCAD Atlanta students. To submit your own work for the Writer’s Corner, email features@scadconnector.com.
“Diaries of an Immigrant” by Celiany Martez
Entry 1: My Name
A-n-a C-e-l-i-a
Pretty simple. Three letters, five letters. Two words that paved the way for me. They paved the way for how I connect to the world.
I came into a different world about five years ago. A lot of sacrifices were made. I didn’t know how my view and connection to the world would change significantly. And in the middle of all of it, my name echoes.
C-e-l-i-a-n-y
Seven letters that were placed uniquely for me. Those seven letters speak family stories. How Mama created my name inspired by Ana Celia. She could’ve named me Celiana, but the “y” made it sound so much sweeter.
How my dad’s family insists the name suits me, I somehow remind them of Ana despite never having met her.
How I don’t know much about her yet carry her name. It’s my one link to her, at least the link I would care the most about.
C-e-l-i-a-n-y
People say Dominicans come up with the most unique names for their children. But never have I doubted my name as much as when I moved. The language change made it difficult for many to pronounce it properly, but I found joy in teaching people to pronounce it.
“It’s just ‘Celia’ and ‘Any’ together.” This was the most efficient way to help others.
And yet, not everyone tries. Others prefer to change it.
When my name tells a part of my story, to change it is to change my past.
As of last year, my sense of belonging diminished. If those surrounding me can’t even call on me correctly, how could I possibly live here?
To pronounce my name is to respect my past. My culture. My family.
Many throughout history have lost their names. Many wish they had a name that speaks to generations. I am lucky.
Eight letters turned into seven.
C-e-l-i-a-n-y