Malleable, fragile, inconsistent. My name is the drunken mother of all modern names. One person one day, a stranger the next. When I was nine, I was Harmony and Nobility and Prettiness. At eleven I fleetingly became Generous, Gorgeous, and Popular. I turned thirteen and was the "Defender of Mankind" despite the fact that I couldn’t defend my own ego. I was fifteen when I became a princess. I hated being a princess, I was no Alexandra of Denmark. Talk about shoes to fill, forget that. I turned sixteen and became stubborn, materialistic. But no one takes a tall skinny black girl named ‘Drae’ very seriously. I was back to being Alexander the Great, the defender. Maybe not of mankind, but at least of my own kaleidoscope identity.