Names & Stereotypes
I have been called and labeled many different names throughout my short lifetime. I have been labeled a sister to my brother and sister. I have been labeled a daughter to my parents. I have also been labeled a grand daughter to my grandparents. I embrace all of these labels because they make me feel special and let me know that these people care about me. It also makes me feel loved by my family. My close friends call me my name, Shanna. While my associates call me B-Murda, my nickname. Apparently, these people don’t really know me.
The most important name I have been labeled is momma by my beautiful son.
The first time he called me momma was when he was about 6 months old. It was like music to my ears. After the first time he said it, I kept telling him to repeat it over and over again. Even though now when I hear him say it, needless to say it doesn’t really touch me as much any more. It especially annoys me when he says it about 50 times per hour. Then when I answer him back he says something that doesn’t even make any sense. But, that’s how children are.
While all those names may sound good, I have also been called many harsh names as well. I have been called a bitch, a hoe, a slut and many other revolting names by my peers. People who don’t really know me have named me these names. They call me these names because of how I look or act. Some call me these names because I had a baby at sixteen. But, my business is none of their business. I don’t really care much about what other people say though, because I’m going to be myself and love myself regardless.
Out of all these labels and names I have been called, there’s only one that sticks out to me the most. Like I said before, I don’t really care what people say about me. It’s just for some odd reason this name hurts my feeling and gets to me sometimes. Maybe this is because sometimes I think that it’s true. Well, at least until I reach my senses. I can’t stand...