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  • My grandson's name is Harvey, named for a friend of my daughter's who was killed tragically. His is a special name, and he loves it. As parents we name our children for special people in our family or for ethnic continuity or because it's the Jadon-Bradon flavor of the month and we are trendy folk. Whatever the reason, we choose passionately, and the kid then has to live with it forever.

    I was born in Argentina in an Italian/Polish community and grew up thinking my name was Tiana for the better part of 13 years. When I saw a confirmation document that year, it read Sebastiana Susana. I was shocked. Who's that!?! Damn, it's me! I was embarrassed and no one could pronounce it and everyone thought I was a boy. When I lived in New Jersey, there wasn't any room on my driver's license for my whole name, so for three years I was Sebastian on paper.

    Today when I read the title of the story Dona Sebastiana, I was thrown for a moment. I so seldom see my name in print. I assumed for a brief second that the story was about me. Well, it wasn't, but it was still a jolt, a pleasant jolt to see my name in print like that. Cool.
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