You are your name. In India, where I’m living for seven months as a Fulbright scholar researching the relevance of archaeological relics today, I’m constantly reminded of this.
“My daughter’s name is Zianna, it means bold and strong,” an acquaintance tells me.
“My name is Arushi, it means first ray of the sun,” says another new friend.
“My name is Pormishra, a god. It means, a god,” says a waiter.
“I am Suraj, the sun,” says another.
When I respond that my name is Elizabeth, Indians often say, “Oh, the queen. You are a queen.” Glad to dissuade them of any connection between my name and India’s former colonial rule, I tell people, “Actually, Elizabeth is a Hebrew name, it means house of God: beit means house; el means God.”