MY NAME IS YOON

by Helen Recorvits

This story is realistic fiction. That means it

is a made-up story that could really happen.

real fiction = real fake

VOCABULARYfor

My Name is Yoon

Cuddle:

to hold close in your arms

Favorite:

the person or thing you like best

Patient:

able to wait or to put up with a problem until it

gets better

Practiced:

do something over and over again until you get

good at it

Settled:

to get used to a new home

Wrinkled:

to make folds or lines

on a smooth surface

MY NAME IS YOON

My name is Yoon.

I came here to America

from Korea.

Korea is a country that

is far far away.

It was not long after

we settled into our new

home that my father

called me to his side.

“Soon you will go to a

new school. You must

learn to write your

name in English.

This is how it looks,”

he said.

I wrinkled up my nose.

I did not like YOON.

Lines. Circles. Each

standing alone.

My name did not look happy.

My name looks happy when I use Korean

symbols.

The symbols dance together.

And in Korean my name means

“Shining Wisdom”.

I like the Korean way better.

But father told me I must learn to write my

name in English.

“Remember, even when

you write your name in

English, it still means

“Shining Wisdom.”

I did not want to learn

the new way.

I wanted to go back to

Korea.

I did not like America.

Everything was

different here.

My father handed me a

pencil.

His eyes told me to try.

“Do as I do.”

He showed me how to

print every letter in the

English alphabet,

all 26 of them.

So I practiced and

practiced.

My father was proud.

“Look, he called to my

mother. See how well

our little Yoon does.”

“Yes,” said mother.

“She will be a

wonderful student.”

I wrinkled up my nose.

My first day at school I sat quietly at my desk

while the teacher

talked about C A T.

She wrote CAT on the

chalkboard. She read

stories about CAT.

I did not know what her

words meant.

But I did know what the

pictures were.

She sang a song about

CAT.

It was a pretty song.

I tried to sing the words,

too.

“Name YOON,” said my

teacher.

“Write your name on

the lines.”

I did not want to write Yoon, so I wrote the

word C A T.

I wrote C A T on every

line.

I wanted to be a cat.I wanted to hide in the corner

so my mother would find me

and cuddle up close to me

and I would mew softly.

The teacher looked at

my paper. She shook

her head and frowned.

“So you are CAT?”

The ponytail girl sitting

behind me giggled.

After school I said to

my father, “We should

go back to Korea. It is

better there.”

“Do not talk like that,”

he said.

“America is your home

now.”

I sat by the window and

watched a little robin

hop, hop in the yard.

“He is all alone, too.

He has no friends. No

one likes him either.”

Then I got an idea. If I draw a picture for the

teacher maybe she

will like me.

It was the best bird I had ever drawn.

“Look Father,” I said proudly.

“Oh, this makes me

very happy,” he said.

“Now do this.”

He showed me how to

write B I R D under

the picture.

The next day the teacher

handed me another

YOON paper to print.

But I did not want to

write YOON. So I wrote

BIRD on every line.

I wanted to be a BIRD. I wanted to fly, fly back

to Korea.

I would fly to my nest

and tuck my head

under my little brown

wing.

The teacher looked at my paper.

“So you are BIRD?”

Then I showed her my

special bird drawing.

She smiled at me.

“How was school today,

my daughter?” asked my

mother.

“I think my teacher likes

me a little,” I said.

“Well, that is good!”

my mother said.

“Yes, but at my school in Korea, I was the

teacher’s favorite. I had many friends. Here I am

all alone.”

“You must be patient with everyone,” said

my mother.

“You will be a fine student and you will have many friends.”

The next day at recess I stood by the fence by myself. I watched the ponytail girl sitting on

the swing. She watched me, too.

Suddenly she jumped off the swing and ran

over to me.

She had a package in her hand.

It said CUPCAKE.

She opened it and gave one to me.

She giggled.

I giggled, too.

When we went back into school, the teacher

gave us more printing papers. I did not want

to write YOON.

I wrote C U P C A K E.

I wanted to be a CUPCAKE.

The children would clap their hands when they

saw me. They would be excited.

“CUPCAKE!”

The teacher looked at

my paper.

“And today you are

CUPCAKE!” she said.

She smiled a very big smile. Her eyes said,

“I like this girl YOON.”

After school I told my mother about my

ponytail friend. I sang a new song for my

father.

I sang the song in

English.

“You make us so

proud,” they said.

“Maybe America will be

a good home,”

I thought.

“Maybe different is

good, too.”

The next day at school,

I could hardly wait to

print. This time I wrote

YOON

on every line.

When my teacher looked

at my paper, she gave

me a big hug.

“AHA! You are YOON!”

“Yes, I am YOON.”

I write my name in

English now.

It still means

“Shining Wisdom”.

What do you think?1. At the beginning of the story, did

you think Yoon would like school?

2. How does she feel at the end of the story?

3. Why do you think Yoon wrote, CAT, BIRD, and CUPCAKE on her paper instead of Yoon?