FROM THE BOOK WHEELS OF INJUSTICE — CHAPTER 2
Stolen Identity
Return with me to the 1950s for a while
When I was four, I was so eager to learn to read that my mother talked the school district into allowing me to start school early. It was in kindergarten where I ran headlong into my first conundrum: What’s your name?
It turns out the name I grew up answering to — the name I believed all my life was mine — was, in fact, not really my name.
My name is — wait — WHAT — WILMA?? Well, THAT’S a stupid name! And sounds nothing like Susie!
Mrs. Oughtred, the kindergarten teacher, peers at me over the paper, “Hello there, Wilma!”
I stare at her blankly, then look at my mom, who says, “Yes, Wilma is on her birth certificate, but we call her “Susie.”
Mrs. Oughtred replies, “Well, I will call her Wilma because we already have a Susan in the class, and that can be so confusing!”
I look at my mother again, hoping for — I don’t know what, but she doesn’t say anything. At home, my mother explains to me that Wilma is the name on my birth certificate, while Susie is my nickname, given to me by Aunt Mamie when I was just a few months old.
