Hello, My Name is...

I was 10 years old when I decided I no longer wanted to carry the prefix to my name. Everything about me is connected to my nickname, Trice. I remember telling my grandfather that the change was because I was frustrated with my teachers saying it completely wrong. Their pronunciations were hideous and embarrassing- Dukett-rice, Du-key-tris, Dookey-trice. Ugh! And then comes the icebreaker question, “Is your dad’s name Duke?” as if I really wanted to dialogue about it after they’ve put me through this name trauma.

The names that we are given have meaning or sentimental connections that are exclusive to the bearer. My name is so unique and one of a kind that if I hear it, I know you are talking to me or talking about me. Well, when I was 10, I didn't want to be associated with it any longer because of the uncomfortable feelings that stirred in me- fear, embarrassment, and confusion.

My grandfather accepted the reasoning that I had given him and was the first person in my family to embrace the change. He said “Trice” with so much authority, sincerity, and love as if he knew the real reason why I was parting ways. I was relieved- it was like I was getting a fresh start. I had the blessings to recreate myself. That’s kind of suspicious for a child to be running from something, right? Even as a kid, I had a bunch of aliases for Columbia House’s “12 CDs for 1 cent” offer, but the name change wasn’t because I thought they had caught up to what I was doing.

I was also 10 years old when my mother bravely ran away from domestic violence in her marriage while living in New Mexico and Louisiana. For all of us, my brother included, we experienced mental abuse with extreme doses of manipulation and control. Remember the movie “Sleeping with The Enemy” with Julia Roberts? Although I was just a kid, the storyline connected with me to where I wanted to hide and never be found. But more specific to me, my unfortunate circumstance in that household was that I was a victim of child sexual abuse.

At that point in my life, my name had literally triggered sadness and emotional chaos, especially when he would call for me. It was meant to be special since I was named after my mom's only brother. Still, instead it would take me back to that dark trailer house in Oakdale, Louisiana on Shell Dr. I remember him saying my name in a scheming childlike tone when he wanted to "do his business", as Miss Ceilie said in The Color Purple. Then I recall the times he would call for me, offer to buy me a new baby doll, and propose what I needed to do to earn it.

"Every scar I have makes me who I am."

I struggled silently for decades, forcing myself to abandon all my childhood memories before 10. I would overload myself with events, church obligations, and school on top of taking care of my family and working full time- I just had to stay busy. The thought of "Duketrice" and all that she experienced and went through in those couple of years would set me back into a deep depression. When I remember her face and the expressions of physical pain and shame, sometimes it's like having a nightmare with my eyes wide open.

Here I am, thirty years later, and I have understood that there are other children and adults who I identify with- we share a similar story. I choose to dissociate myself from my name, but others may have disconnected themselves from a variety of tangible and intangible things, including life itself.

 According to Darkness to Light, 1 in 10 kids will be sexually abused before the age of 18, 90% of the victims personally know who their perpetrator is, and 20% are abused before the age of 8. Keep your eyes open, know the signs, and protect the children in your communities, your school, in your family, and in your church- yes, I said the church. My abuser was a preacher.

I am no longer defined by my past…

I can’t alter the events of what happened, but instead, I can use my story to encourage you to speak up for those that can’t speak for themselves.

I am surrounded by unconditional love…

My relationships are healthy, and my friendships are genuine. I am loved. I feel the love. I accept love. Love makes me feel safe.

I am who God says I am…

If it was not for my strong faith in God and my family's prayers, I just don’t know. Whew!

But God says:

I am His child - 1 John 3:1

I am courageous – Deuteronomy 31:6

I am blessed – Ephesians 1:3

I am loved – Ephesians 1:4

I am chosen – 1 Thessalonians 1:4

I am created for a purpose – Jeremiah 29:11

Thank you, Father!

Shakespeare's famous quote, "what's in a name" was translated to express that if you take a rose and decide to call it something else, its beauty and aroma still make it a rose. Now I have this whole vision of the barbershop scene from Coming to America- Cassius Clay or Muhammad Ali; either way, he was still an iconic boxer. Call me Trice or Duketrice (just make sure you say it right), whichever way, I am still a survivor, I am still courageous, and I am still strong.

So, let me introduce myself.

Hello, my name is Duketrice.

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