What does JC stand for?

We grow up struggling to understand who we are and what we are meant to do in this world. Dave Chappelle in one of his stand ups “The bird revelation” explains this phenomenon using homosexuals as an example.
He says that “These motherfuckers from a very young age know who they are, while we don’t know who we are, they (homosexuals) are busy fighting for who they already know they are”
For which there is a query that begs an answers. Who are you? Who is the real you? Is it the one you reveal while with your lover? The one who comes out during a chill with friends, the conservative one that only mama knows or the one with a million friends/followers on social media? We are all these people are we not? All these individuals as different as they are define who we are.
I wanted to title this blog post characters that fit the role: how according to the situations, conditions or circumstances we become certain characters. Have you ever had that “s/he was a totally different person at the party” moment?
It was probably better that way because a more energetic character was needed, and as an individual you called that character within you out to play. But in all honesty we all tend to become these different individuals that our friends and family would deny and/or even stand up on court to state “That can’t be my son/daughter your honour”
Unfortunately, it was you, you’ve just never played that character in front of your friends and family. Now this brings me back to me.

My name is JC, and every stranger that meets me wants to know what JC stands for? My answer is usually simple and true, it stands for JC. Honestly there is no truth beyond that, there are no dots in JC. However, I can explain the origins of the name.
I have lived an interesting life so far, a part of me however when I was young, I believed most of that life is not of my own choosing. I felt I was living someone’s life. I simply could not find who I was in the world; I didn’t know who my dad was, and did not know my “true” surname whatever that meant, and when my grandmother was drunk, she never failed to remind me of such, that I was a bastard child. I struggled to grasp my own identity, I was in limbo.

It made me angry
But for the life of me, I felt I was different from my peers, I felt not so much out of place but I yearned for something, I just didn’t know what it was or perhaps didn’t know how to put it words.
Then there was this one consistent father figure I had in my life who kinda helped, he was Jackie Chan. The time I watched Jackie Chan movies my life changed, I felt what he did resonated with me so very much, the ability to move the body but also the ability to be humorous about the things of life in whatever situation and more.
I felt like I belonged.
So after years in 2006, I stood in front of my grade 10 class. I had long dubbed myself JC, initials taken from Jackie Chan, a man I fully admire; my fellow students were not taking me seriously, they teased me calling me Jackie Chan, but I was not Jackie Chan, I was JC.

I stood in front of class, nervous, shy, my heart beating out of my chest. I stood there and told everyone who I was, that I was JC, if you cannot call me by that then don’t call me at all. It was then that I was truly born, that I was fully embodying this identity, that after a long time of not feeling like I knew who I was, for the first time in my life I knew who I was.
Constantly people try to figure out who they are. In a sense at this young age, I am one of the few people that figured out who they were. I know who I am, constantly I have to battle this person that I am; people not believing that I am who I say I am, but I can’t falter because if I define myself as someone else besides JC it wouldn’t truly be me.
Most people who are close to me know the names I was born with and I love all my traditional given names, all three. I have strangers, people I don’t know forcing themselves to know the names I grew up with. If I tell you those names I am introducing you to a person you don’t know, a person who I don’t know either, a person I leave behind at home, a person I long left. Every time I am at home, I get called by my traditional names and it sounds so weird because in a sense I have forgotten that part of me. However what I never forget is that, the person I am at home is my mother’s child.
So knowing me as JC, you are introduced to the worse and best version of me, an individual who knows who they are and what they want with life. I am one person who made a choice about who they want to be.

You’ve probably struggled with who you are, share how? JC has a great listening ear.

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