I have eight cousins who share my name: Antonella! At family gatherings, any time someone says “Antonella” we all turn to look until we figure out exactly which one of us is being addressed. This confusion is the result of the Italian tradition for first-born sons and daughters to be named after their father’s parents, (the relatives my cousins and I share) our paternal grandparents. Following this tradition, my parents named me after my paternal Nonna, Antonia, my name Antonella signifying “little Antonia.”
Growing up in a small town in Northeastern Pennsylvania, where the ethnic mix was mostly Irish, Polish, and German, you can imagine how unique my name was to everyone else. Nobody could ever pronounce it correctly, if they could even remember it. I cannot recount the various ways people have pronounced it over the years (think: Antwa-nella, Antonio-ella, etc.) When I was younger, many adults tried to stick me with the nickname “Toni,” which I vehemently declined. For some reason, in elementary school I was given the nickname “Antie” by classmates, which they called me all the way through 8th grade. My identity was unclear to say the least.
As kids, we all want to blend in as much as possible with our friends to be like everyone else and to be “normal.” I felt like my Italian name prohibited that. I was comforted by the fact that my brother had it just as tough – his name is Vitangelo, named in honor of our Nonno. I remember as a kid, because we were so embarrassed by our real names, my brother and I invented “normal names” when meeting other kids in the pool on a family vacation to Florida. Instead, we became Julia and Tommy. Imagine the looks of confusion on the other kids’ faces when our mom came to collect us and yelled out “Antonella! Vitangelo! Come on, it’s time to eat lunch!”
With age comes life experience and confidence, and I feel that I have really grown into my name. Specific moments encouraged this transition. I cannot describe the excitement I felt when I visited Italy as an adult instead of as a child, and found personalized souvenirs with my name for the first time in my life! And when I moved to NYC and met another Antonella who was not a family member, I felt our unspoken understanding. I learned to appreciate and take advantage of having a unique name. For instance, in college, I signed up for a meeting timeslot with one of my professors simply with “Antonella.” My professor joked, “Who do you think you are, Madonna?” I may as well have been- not only was I the only Antonella in the class, but I was the only Antonella at my University!
Now, I love having a unique and beautiful name! I cherish that it honors and connects me with my family and my Italian heritage, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.
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