“Whaaaaaaaaa!!” is what almost every pair of ears in my tribe heard on the day my mother gave birth to me. Many people in our tribe came to our tepee and the children gawked and placed their little fingers in their mouths at the sight of me, an adorable, unique baby girl. When I was born, my mother did not know what to name me. She contemplated over many ideas. I did not have a unique name to relish and never felt elated. I began to say to my mother, “Where did my name venture off to?” which she always replied “You do not have one”. I did not feel ecstatic because even my own mother admitted I did not possess an identity. Finally, I enticed my mother to take me to the Wise-Man and I became joyful. But it began pouring a little before my mother glimpsed outside the next day, and she told me “We have a dilemma because it is raining.” She kept on saying, “We cannot proceed into the rain”. Eventually, I cajoled her to take me so we departed to the tipi, where he sat on an iridescently colored blanket, most likely woven by an elder woman of the tribe. He named an ample amount of people in our tribe. When he asked my mother about me, she answered, “She is the most talkative person in our family.” He pondered, and then scrutinized over me for a moment, and then replied “Talking Crow.” I had heard an innumerable amount of names before, but nothing like mine. I did not despise my name; I loved it like my life. After being at the wise-man’s tepee for an hour, I felt tranquil. I made an incredibly bad mistake after I fetched my fabulous identity, as I explained to my brother how I received my name, and he made entertainment of me by teasing me days on end . I felt a little strange about calling myself “Talking Crow”. Not many people were ever envious about my name, for the claimed it was an absurd one. It always aggravated me that people made fun of my name. Anyways, that is how I acquired my wonderful name.

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BLAH!!