Jazz, Like The Music

 Jazz, Like The Music

My mother did not choose my name, she never thought of a girl’s name because a girl wasn’t what she wished for. My mothers first child, my half-brother, gave me the title, Jazmine. I find irony in my birth name, someone who is so vindictive and cruel chose a blossoming, spring name for me. In its original language, Spanish, it means flower or youthful. A fitting name for a baby born in the budding-spring season. But as I’ve grown, It’s no longer a fitting name for me. 

Now, I go by Jazz, I feel that’s my true name. It makes me think of a saxophone, flashy and booming. At home nobody calls me it, but in the world, that’s the real me. At school it’s easy for people to remember and differentiates me from others. There's dozens of Jazmines on campus, but only one Jazz. In English class sophomore year, I introduced myself to my shoulder partner. I told her my name was Jazz, her face lit up. She said “Wow, like the music?”. It was the first time I introduced myself with that name, that’s when I knew it was the right one. To be compared to something so classical and refined, made me fill with joy. 

My new name is known for the 1920’s genre, rhythmic and dazzling. It reminds me of the Great Gatsby. Jazz sounds like a girl dressed in sequins and glitter, dancing at Gatsby’s party. She smells like fireworks and tastes like champagne. And cake, Jazz makes me think of a 5 tier cake, being feasted on by guests at a party.

I’m glad I’ve chosen Jazz. I always wished I had been given a different name, something more catchy and inspiring. A name that was entirely mine, and represented me in the way I see fit. Jazz, vibrant, flashy and opulent. That’s the real me.