Commentary & Writing Techniques:

This essay is a masterclass in turning a small, seemingly insignificant detail—the pronunciation of a name—into a profound exploration of identity and morality.

• Compelling Hook: The writer uses a relatable and humorous opening about Winnie the Pooh to immediately disarm the reader before introducing a complex and serious topic. This is an effective way to create an emotional connection early on.

• Focused Narrative: Instead of trying to cover many different experiences, the essay centers on a single, unique moral dilemma. This focus allows for a deep, introspective exploration that makes the writer's character and values clear.

• Show, Don't Tell: The essay doesn't just state that the grandfather was racist; it shows the impact of his decision on the writer's life. Phrases like "the emphasis on the change is magnified" and "a sort of cognitive dissonance" are far more powerful than simple declarations.

• Thoughtful Resolution: The essay concludes by a self-aware and forward-looking statement of purpose. The writer doesn't just describe the problem; she demonstrates a desire to take responsibility for her own beliefs and create a new, positive legacy. This shows a high level of maturity and self-reflection.

Essay by Alexandra Milne

"I love Winnie the Pooh! Are you related to A. A. Milne?" I can't even count on two hands the number of times I have been asked that question. "No I'm not; our last names are different. Well sort of… Well, there's a story… It's complicated."

I arrived at my new school in second grade. Another small private school, but here no one knew me. No one knew my family, where I'd come from, what I was like, and no one knew my name. I'd introduce myself; "Hi, my name is Alex Milne, I'm new." I've been at the same school ever since, and the same people have been calling me the same thing, Alex Milne (pronounced Milney). The invisible "y" never bothered me until I learned about the family history of it. Originally, my family pronounced our name as "Miln," one syllable. There aren't supposed to be two ways to pronounce my name. My grandfather, George Milne, was born in 1907, and, like many of his peers, he was a racist until the day he died. When he entered the military, he met a man in his unit with the same name: George Milne. However, much to my grandfather's displeasure this man was black. My grandfather, under no circumstances, would have the same name as a black man, so he immediately changed the pronunciation of his family name from "Miln" to "Milney," and that is the way it has been pronounced in my family ever since. I have always been known as Alex "Milney"; that is the way it is pronounced not only by my family but also by my friends and teachers. Many people just call me "Milney"—a nickname to distinguish between the four Alexes in my grade alone. When people call me by my last name, the emphasis on the change is magnified; I can't help but think of my grandfather. Sometimes the people in my school community, even teachers, whom I have known nearly my entire life, will ask which way it is pronounced. To avoid confusion, or having to retell the story for the millionth time, I tell them that it doesn't matter. I can do this because I can accommodate both mindsets, a sort of cognitive dissonance: I can accept the family name while I internally disagree with the origins behind it.

Now I realize the severity of my grandfather's decision. The fact that he would take the extreme step of changing his given name to avoid comparison to another person he deemed inferior seems to me not only childish and foolish and trivial, but also immensely offensive. This change that he made really has had a large impact on me, enough so that I toy with whether or not to affirmatively revert my name back to the original pronunciation. It's hard to do, but I think it is worth the effort to be able to express my opinions. I understand that family history, especially family history I'd rather not own up to, is not unique to my family. Whether good or bad, every person has family history, and the hard part is dealing with the weight of it. However, in confronting our history we are allowed to build our own beliefs and create our own. My grandfather had personal values that left intangible marks on my family history, but I, Alex Milne, whether pronounced with a hard "E" or a silent "E," have taken the responsibility to forge my own beliefs and write a new history—one that includes George Milne—much to my grandfather's dismay.

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