Hank C. Sanders
9/20/13
My Name: A Love - Hate Relationship
By Henry Charles Sanders
Part I: Loving My Name
Fun Fact!! ‘Hank’ in the Golden Ages meant A “Relatively strong person!”
Henry Charles Sanders is my name. King Henry, King Charles, King Sanders. Tell me my name isn’t royal. If I were a King, I would fit right in. You could call me by any of my three names and it would still sound legit. Prince Harry’s name is “Henry Charles Albert David.” I have the Henry and the Charles. Sanders, I think we can all agree, is better than Albert.
My friends call me Hank (a common nickname for Henry). My relatives call me Henry (a common nickname for Henry). And my immediate family, they call me “Hen” (a very uncommon nickname for Henry). Lets get this straight. I am not the kinda guy who cares what his name is like or even what anyone calls him by. But you have to admit, My name is pretty darn versatile. I likes this about my name. I can call myself Harry, Hal, Hanky Spanky, Hank the Tank, Big H, H town… Ok. I don't like all of my possible nicknames. But that’s beside the point.
When I hear my name (Hank) being spoken, I find that it sounds hollow, deep, bold, and even blunt. The kind of sound that can be heard if a giant came to knock down your house.
My middle name - Charles - is taken from my Mom’s dad, Charley. For this reason, I feel that I have a special bond with my grandfather. A kind of bond that I may not otherwise have if my name was “Joe” or something like that. My grandfather have a lot else in common. For starters, we are both avid Sports fans. In the year 2005, when the Chicago White Sox won the world series, Grandpa Charlie held large parties at his house. His bedroom is filled with picture of the current and past rosters of the WS. He prays at the altar of Paul Kenorko.
Sanders is my last name. Actually, thats not true. My great grandfather “Izzy” changed the family name from Senderovich to Sanders. Izzadore Senderovich, a Russian Jew, came to the U.S from His homeland in the year “1911. A Russian jew, Izzy is a great example of perseverance and strength. I am lucky to have such great family history.
So, in summary, my name is Royal, versatile, has a lot of great family history, and is very close to my heart. For these reasons, I really love my name and will never change it.
Part II: Hating My Name
Un Fun Fact: The word “hank” in the 60’s and 70’s: “Slang for heroin”
Henry Charles Sanders. My name is as old as my grandfather, the man that gave me my middle name. I really ever meet a man named Henry. I have met a few people in my life named Hank, but no one my age. Why is this the case? The reason for is simple: People don't give their children names like Hank or even Henry anymore. I have an old timers name. My middle name Charles is even more prehistoric. (Thanks Grandpa.)
On top of the fact that my namesakes are pretty much dinosaurs, my name is hollow, yet at the same time heavy. This combination makes an oxymoron that is hard on the ears, and even harder on the soul.
My name has bad history, is old, and sounds hollow and dense. So you decide what I think.
Since our job was to write about our names, I felt that I wanted to show the best and worst of my name. But facts are facts, and the fact of the matter is I wrote 366 words about why I love my name, and only 135 words on why I don’t. This tells me that overall, I like my name more than I dont. But, like everything in the world, it has its pluses and minuses.
Yours proudly, Henry Charles Sanders
P.S. Thanks for the name, Mom.
:)
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