Names and Individuals in Society

My first name, Vanessa, does not have a deep significance for me as an individual.  I do not dislike it; I enjoy it because it is not extremely common and does not start with an “O” like my sister’s name (that is something cliche and ridiculous that some parents choose to do with twins in an attempt to be cute).  I do not believe that my name defines me in some deep way, but I do find it interesting that the name Vanessa means butterfly (the genus name of numerous butterflies is Vanessa) and I am coincidentally fascinated by nature.  Another interesting connection with my name is that in my favorite Broadway musical, Wicked, the protagonist's sister’s name is “Nessa” which is very similar to my own name.  These connections are intriguing, but they do not add a profound personal significance to my name.

           I did have an experience of profound personal significance this past summer at Governor’s School. While there, my fellow students and I were required to attend an “Area Three” class.  Area 3 was a class concerned with individuals and society, and during one of the first Area 3 classes every student was assigned a “Creativity Project.”  The Creativity Project assignment was simple--create something that shows who you are.  Five days later, we were going to present our creations to the class.  My project was simple-looking, but time-intensive because it required a level of self-reflection that I had never engaged in before that point.  I drew various objects on a piece of copy paper, each of them representing a facet of myself, and I presented it to my class in detail.  I described that the blue and brown blue jay feather that I had drawn in the middle showed how I felt like two people--shy and cautious at some points  while outgoing and rash at other moments.  On the right side of the paper was a teardrop falling on the world, representing my empathy for other people’s struggles and frustration about my inability to act and help those people.  Near the top was a perfect square with a chip in it, representing my impossible perfectionist tendencies.  In the bottom left-hand corner was a bird cage trapping a music note and a heart inside, symbolizing how my fear of not expressing my emotions perfectly hinders me from writing poetry like I used to.  While creating these drawings I learned more about myself than I ever had in the past, and then I laid it out, raw and bare, in front of these people I barely knew.  They applauded and accepted me--the me that was contradictory and confused and a perfectionist and emotional and unsure and simply me.  Before that moment, I had never felt more like myself, or more connected to people whom I had just met.  

          Within the Governor’s School society, I allowed myself to show my soul to strangers, and this in turn allowed me to become more open to the rest of the world.  This is especially difficult in high school, because in school there seems to be an unspoken rule that when you are talking to your friends at lunch you complain about school and homework and gossip about insignificant things.  If someone says something racist that is supposed to be funny you laugh.  If a friend asks you a question you answer the way you should, you do not necessarily answer with your actual opinion.  After creating and presenting my Creativity Project I try not to socialize like I have in the past.  I attempt to be the open form of myself that I found in that classroom--I try to talk about significant subjects with my friends, not encourage things that I find to be immoral, and answer questions with sincerity.  But it is difficult.  I have gotten used to acting; acting how I am expected to in the judgmental social setting of school.  At least I now have recognized that I have been pretending and can begin to change that.