The past of my mother is non-existant in my name. Although, she is half of me. She birthed me. She feeds me. She provides for me. She understands me. She listens to me. She hugs me. She loves me. But her name is not in mine. My father’s name is in mine. That’s good. He cooks for me. He works hard for me. He advises me. He helps me. He waits with me. He supports me. He loves me. He deserves to have part of my name. But so does my mom. And she can’t have it. Just because she is a woman.