Undergraduate / 'The New Teacher' (the struggle of having an uncommon name) - Common App [6]

(I mostly need help with the ending. I think it still ends a little as a downer and I'm trying to incorporate how I've overcome this through my extracurriculars. However, I really don't know how!)

Personal Statement Essay: CA & UCA
Question: Some students have a background or story that is so central to their identity that they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.

Personal Essay:
I walk through the classroom door on the first day of school. My eyes anxiously scan the room for an open seat. At the front desk sat someone with a strange familiarness: a new teacher for a new year. I am immediately interrupted by a wave of anxiety. I sit in the nearest available desk. The teacher takes attendance.

She has just called Anna.
Woah, now she is on Rebecca.
Hmm...she is going by last names. Okay, this gives me time to think about whether I should correct her mispronunciation or leave it be. Is my teacher even concerned about whether she mispronounces it? Does it matter if she cares? Maybe, I should make her care? How about I act really surprised when she mispronounces it? Or even insulted?

"Katherine Smith"
"Jwa-here Sunday"

The teacher pronounces my first name with such an unanticipated perfection that I dismiss her cringe worthy attempt at my last name. I even present a sly amused smile and I attentively announce myself as present. However, I brace myself for the upcoming question.

"Interesting. You are Jwahir? What are you? Do you have a nickname?"

Now don't get me wrong. This name has never inflicted any personal shame. Despite encountering the relunctants who spot the more challenging presense of my name on a list of more familiars and turn back and exclaim "Okay I am going to skip this" or even the sprinters who quickly haste through my name to get to a more recognizable set of letters. Despite all of this, I have never seen my name as unfavorable. In fact, I've always been conditioned by my parents to perceive it as empowering. Jwahir. The golden woman, one who reflects the almighty and keeps pushing forward. I've always owned my name and fully claimed it.

However, I still could not shake off the persistent after-feelings of such awkward uncomfortable introductions. My name fully outlined my differences. Particularly, in a room teeming.

My name often introduces me to a semester of looming discomfort and the burden of being a female person of color in an overwhelmingly white and/or male dominated classroom. These interactions present a semester of feeling the emotional toll of being the only black junior taking AP Biology out of the 1,697 students of CRLS or being one of four female students in Criminal and Civil Law (mirroring the current diversity state of the U.S Senate).

Even three months in the classroom, I sit in with my fellow group members collaboratively distributing out responsibilities for our upcoming project. My gracefully powerful name gets replaced with "Hey!","You", or a suspiciously repetitive use of "she". I end up not having a name. Time and time again, I overhear: It's too difficult to pronounce and she doesn't even have a nickname. Nameless.

Despite my school boasting about their ethnic diversity, I remain a subtle yet obvious secret in my classes. I have gradually developed the ability of self-validation. My voice does matter. In fact, it needs to be heard. I need to be included in the conversation. As a more reserved introvert, it is wholly necessary that I remind myself to step outside of my comfort zone and rewrite my self-perceived boundaries as a method of refusing to allow any assumptions reside as a reality. I need to both recognize and present myself as a leader; a multidimensional leader that should be naturally followed. This voice has a name. This person has a name that needs to be learned. I am not solely my race. I am not solely my gender. I am not solely my name. I am diverse past these identities. However, I also hold a transformative power in my differences and these personal powers will allow me to shamelessly emancipate my own potential.