My Name: A Beautiful Poem
West—ruler of dark water.
East—virtuous land.
Similar sounds—yet separate spellings, semantics, and societies—within just two syllables.
Power, wealth, and chaos: I am an axe. A woman holds me to the sky—a blade of curved iron with a beam of warped wood. My weight splits the air in a downward arc, as I cleave a valley between two hills. A river of black oozes from the canyon. Conqueror. Victorious. I have my own way of doing things.
The names of my paternal uncles and my father defined their lives. The eldest sought depth, the next sought sinology, then greatness, and my father sought stability. My paternal aunts were named after beautiful things, such as flowers, jewelry, and clouds. Traditionally, women are named for their literal beauty. For men, it’s figurative.
Long before my sister and I were born, my father had thought of names for a girl and a boy. He followed the family tradition: my sister's name was simple, yet elegant—beautiful poem—but while I was growing up, no one could explain the meaning of my name.
I carve my path through the land, desiring to end my route where all are equal. Flowing to my destination will take several millennia, but I hold the earth of my headwaters, regardless of where I go. I am dark for I hold much sediment—memories—in my veins.
My fate has been written: land is my conquest and people are my subjects. I have razed and pillaged. Let me speak plainly: I am the victor. I have my own way of doing things.
Remember your headwaters; seek your fate.
I am your homophone.
To walk with a straight heart. Taoism took this concept far past my headwaters. My meaning has been convoluted by more than two millennia of philosophy; now there is no near English equivalent. Virtue, integrity? These words filter out my Chinese legacy.
Earth, mouth, and spear. I raise mouths and raze buildings to the ground. I am land: a vast domain of hunger and war. Draw a border around me with brush strokes and I become a country. Canada?
I carry my parents' hope for a future in Canada.
I am your homophone.
Only together do you resonate with my voice. Only together do you form the two syllables which make up my name. But even if I take either of you as my own, my meaning will never diminish: with so much land in my letters, it is without a doubt that I will be a ruler of the earth.
Integrity is innate but lost in translation. I am fundamental, yet complex—understandable, yet inexplicable—native, yet foreign. I am the axe that nicked Sir Gawain.
It turns out that my name was also a beautiful poem.
Leung
Derek: (Germanic) ruler.
Doug[las]: (Goidelic) dark [stream].
Vick[tor]: (Latin) conqueror.
水 刀 木 water knife wood 梁
行 直 心 walk straight heart 道 德
土 口 戈 earth mouth spear 地 域