I know almost nothing about my great-great grandmother.
I know that her maiden name was Castelli. I know she came from Sicily and immigrated to the United States about 120 years ago.
I wonder what she thought about leaving her home. Did she want to? Did she have a say? Did she hold her head high amidst the indignities of Ellis Island? Did she dig deep within herself to find the courage and resilience she needed?
I like to think so.
I don’t even know her first name, yet her journey inspires me even now.
I wrote a poem about her in a writing class last week. We were invited to reflect on our ancestors, and I couldn’t stop thinking of her, a young woman on a boat to a new home she may or may not have chosen.
I don’t even know her first name, but I imagined her as Giavanna, and as I wrote, I realized it didn’t matter.
Your True Name
Giavanna, Giavanna
Is this your true name?
What would you call yourself
I wonder
You crossed a sea and then
a continent
Beholden to a man you barely knew
Giavanna
What did you think when you
stepped onto the boat
Did you cower in the berth
sick and frightened?
Did you stand at the bow
stretch out your arms and
cry your true name
For the gulls and the wind and the
empty blue horizon?
There is great power in names, a truth the fae have always understood.
What would you call yourself if you could choose your True Name? What powers would your True Name grant you?
Beautiful poem 💛
I’ve thought about this a lot, but never really come up with a name. I’ve never liked Kaitlyn or been connected to it really. I’m going to take a deep breath, close my eyes and ask…the first name I heard was Rebecca which is surprising and I kind of love it. How interesting. 🤔