Troy. It is quite a short first name that is not terribly popular in the world and has an interesting sound to it. It is like the the word “toy” and throwing an “r” in middle. When I was younger, my kindergarden teacher decided to give me the nickname of “Troy-Boy” and I absolutely hated being called that. Perhaps that help contribute to the myth that I punch my poor elderly teacher in the stomach since I hated it so much and I was not the best behaved in the class. It seemed so eerie at the time coming from a teacher. Despite this or maybe because of it, I have always wanted to change my name to something else, more tough or hood sounding like Tyrone or maybe Marcus. But Troy became who I am. In French the significance of the name Troy is curly haired. On the english side of the spectrum it happens to mean soldier. I am the “Curly haired soldier”. Without knowing the definition my entire life, I somehow grew into it. My hair had been curly since the day I was born and at this point it is like a forest up in there with twists and turns and dark paths. And all my life I have been a fighter for better or worse. Bullying kids for no reason and picking fights when I was younger to sticking up for what/who I believe in and to this day I am still picking fights. The soldier is definitely there. So as I have matured and gotten older I realize that I do not want another name just to sound cool or ‘black’ because I always want to be Troy the curly haired soldier.