"As a kid, I prayed my name would’ve been Justin or Austin so my classmates could say it correctly on the playground. Now, ironically, I couldn’t imagine carrying a name other than Yazen.
This name has been carried through hardship and uncertainty on both sides of my family. Different cities, yet same conditions — shaped by Indigenous cultures forced to flee and seek refuge. Oppressors across the world have inflicted deep physical, emotional, and generational trauma. Without the sacrifices and burdens of immigrants, much of this world’s beauty would not exist.
My name means everything and nothing at once. It represents a historical king and a sword used to protect those crossing valleys. It represents writing and sharing. It represents balance and the scales of justice. But it cannot wield any of these meanings without the world in front of it. The root does not exist without acknowledging what is twisted and evil in the soil where it grows. Yet it feeds and is fed in return. The cycle is sacred. We inherit wisdom and are responsible for extending it. What is rooted together shares shade.
Without immigrants, we are nothing. This world is nothing.
With recent threats — and familiar patterns in history — my name is a reminder: to act, to weigh against injustice, to protect, and to speak when the soul senses threat."