Get to Know Me

My name is Yara, which sounds cool, like it should have some profound meaning in a remote language, but really, my parents got the name from a friend’s dog. It’s always a little awkward telling stranger this because they don’t know whether to laugh or take it seriously so usually I try to avoid the question. Whether or not its funny, which I think it is, its part of who I am as is my love for sports, my stubbornness, my issue with authority, and my passion for art. I think the best way to explain myself is by starting with my family and home. Before I was born, my parent’s house, at the base of the Tetons in Wilson, WY, provided evidence of my dad’s lack of regard for comfort. It had no foundation, no heating system, and they often had to set up a tent in the living room to avoid being soaked due to the leaky roof. Then there was the throne. It was a feature in the bathroom that rose a majestic four feet in the air with steps leading up to its royal perch. A 55-gallon drum occupied the space below. Every six months or so my parents threw a dinner with the unspecified intent of getting friends to remove the drum, cap it, and carry it to the yard where it would sit and complete the final step of the composting system. I don’t know if my parents friends were more excited to see my face on the inside of the birth announcement reading, “we have a new addition” or the picture of the brand new toilet on the front. This introduction to my life explains me better then almost anything.