How can a Southeast Asian boy from Texas have such an ethnically European and frankly antiquated name? Leopold. The name suggests a French, German, Dutch, Czech, or Polish descent (Campbell). However, I am none of those- not even a smidge. I am, instead, a Vietnamese American.

 My mother’s only request was for the name to start with an L. The same letter that begins my sisters’ names, Lavonne and Levana. Eventually, the name, Leopold, was uttered by Lavonne as a suggestion and it stuck. The name means “bold, brave” (Finlay). However, the history of the name of King Leopold of Belgium (Campbell) is what sold my mom on the name. She believed that the name Leopold, similar to my Vietnamese name, Loi, meaning “profit” (Wiktionary) would invite a newfound success into the immigrant family. My mom always expected the best from me and my siblings. She was the type of mom to buy us those math and writing workbooks and enroll us in swim classes over the summer. My mom ensured we made the most of our opportunities just as she did when she moved to America. Synonyms of wealth, the names Leo and Loi share a similarity despite their origins being on opposite sides of the world.

 With such demanding names, I have always felt a subliminal pressure to live up to them, whether it be my English or Vietnamese, or perhaps it is an effect of having Asian parents with high standards. Either way, the meaning of Leopold rests at my core. I joined the debate team because I was scared of public speaking and I eventually was the debate team captain senior year. I had a fear of heights so I went skydiving for my 18th birthday. Realizing that tomorrow is never guaranteed, I try to live every day punching above my weight, no matter how big or small the challenge. I have subconsciously adopted the “brave” aspect of my name as I strive to embody it.