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My legal name is Kara Elizabeth Poe, but I have always gone by Kara Beth. Besides that awkward time in middle school, I claimed Kara Beth sounded childish and like a little girl, and I wanted to be called Kara. I never realized until long, alone moments allowing myself to fully unload all of the loss I had experienced that it was because of my father dying that summer, and he always called me Kara Beth. I would spend most of my nights sitting in my bedroom, trying to learn how to deal with grief while listening to the video he left me. "Hey, Kara Beth, this is your daddy speaking..." I wanted to be anyone but her.
My mother told me she had decided the first part of my name would be Kara when she was pregnant at the beach with me. I cannot remember the book she said she was reading, but she said the book kept saying "my Kara," she learned that "Kara" in Italian means to be seen as beloved, dear, and a friend. I also don't know where Elizabeth came from for my middle name. My mother and father eventually decided to call me Kara Beth. My father loved the classic rock band Kiss, and I don't think it was ironic that my name turned out to be Kara Beth because of the popular song Kiss released "Beth." My father frequently sang the song to me and replaced Beth with Kara Beth. "Kara Beth, I hear you calling..."
Little did my parents know that the double name they were giving me was setting up many of the aspects of my identity that resonated with them. I am often told that out of my siblings, I am the perfect mix of my parents. A lot of people say that I do not favor one of my parents over the other in looks or personality. I have learned to resonate my double name with my mix of their looks and personalities.
Kara is my mother. She picked the name Kara and taught me to embrace being beloved, dear, a friend, etc. I want to emphasize that I am not saying my father did not teach me the qualities of being a kind person; he simply did not get the chance to finish the lessons he had engraved in me. Being raised by one parent from a young age, you will inevitably pick up one personality over another.
My mother has raised four children. I am now watching her assist in raising her grandchildren. Her mother also helped raise me and my siblings. It takes a village. You have to have a specific personality to raise four children, and through raising us, I see the aspects I will list in each of my siblings and myself. She is selfless, nurturing, and faithful.
Being selfless is a complicated task. I am not saying that she or I are always selfless. We have wants, needs, desires, and frustrations like the rest. A lot of her selflessness comes from her humility. Her selflessness and humility also shine in the profession she chose as a social worker, especially in eastern Kentucky. Through her job, she always reminded us how lucky we were and how easy our lives were compared to others, trying to instill in us humility. I want to emphasize the selfless actions she took in raising me. When I think of my mother, I think of the song "Butterfly Fly Away" from the Hannah Montana Movie. "You had to do it all alone. Make a living. Make a home." It is hard to raise a child without a father. She did not have that person to fall back on sometimes when she needed them most. She was all I had for a long time. She did not get to have alone time after a long, stressful day at work if I was hungry, had a bad day, or just wanted to talk with her. She is selfless because I never realized how much she put my needs above hers until I got older.
With the selflessness I have learned from her, I often take it upon myself to constantly check on others rather than myself. She reminds me I am not anyone's keeper and sometimes I need to worry and focus on myself. I do understand that taking this to the extreme and not taking care of yourself is an issue, but it is very hard to see this trait in myself as a flaw because she does the same thing, and I admire her.
My mother's selflessness also aligned with her nurturing side. She has made herself an outlet to me. Even though I am living in a different city and trying to learn to be an adult, I know I always have her to fall back on when I am sick, need advice, or to just talk to my mother. She has always provided me with a safe space to grow and have emotional and loving support. She has taught my sister Paelyn and me especially the significance of alone time and being able to be with yourself and be okay with that. My personality and growth would not have been able to develop the way it has without her, providing the love she knew I needed. She nurtured each of her children differently, and remarkably, she understood that we each had different needs and navigated those needs for us.
My mother is also faithful in her relationship with God and the people she loves. She has instilled both of these traits in me. She has taught me the power of prayer and bible study. She answers my questions about our faith to the best of her ability and encourages us to attend services with her. She is also faithful in the sense of being loyal to the people she loves. My mother and I would do anything for the people we love and stand up for them when needed. She is consistent and trustworthy whether we are right by her side or away.
Beth is my father. To me, Beth is the band Kiss. Beth is my love for music. Beth is the little girl in me who loves to watch movies and television, play, and use my vivid imagination.
I have picked up from my father his love for music that ran generationally through him. My father's mother, my Granny Brenda, and the family are exceptionally musically inclined, to say the least, and all they ever knew was to express themselves through music. Whether that was singing, playing an instrument, or writing songs. I thankfully also inhabited this trait. I also learned and picked up his coping mechanism of isolation when times are hard. I remember that in some of the most trying times of his life, we would go on rides and sing it out. Initially, we used a CD my sister Brittany burned for him, along with all his favorites or the radio. As technology developed, I could play anything he or I requested at the drop of a hat. He loved the song "Something to Be Proud Of" by Montgomery Gentry, and I also fell in love with the song. I remember being overwhelmed with the song's humility, gratitude, emotion, and simplicity. I love many genres of music like he did, but he showed me that songs shaped my love for specific songs based on the emotions they articulate.
I am not ashamed to admit that I am a little girl trapped inside a woman's body. My family often remembers my father as loving and fun; we call him a "big kid." I see this aspect in my siblings as well. He gave me the elements of loving movies and television, playing, and my vivid imagination.
On weekends, he would take me to the video store in our town to rent movies. I especially remember that on Saturday nights, we would stay up and watch The Wizard of Oz because I loved the imagery and the movie's story. He would show me many movies that he had loved over the years. He, Granny, and Sissy (his sister) would take me, Paelyn (my little sister), and Nick (Sissy's son) to the movie theater to watch all of the new movies coming out. My love for film as I got older turned into my passion for television shows.
He also loved to play, and so do I. We were constantly developing a game inside and outside, whether on the trampoline, sports, or card games. My love for playing coincided with my imagination; he always allowed me to embrace it. He never missed an opportunity for me to use my imagination to play my personal favorites: grocery store, teacher, and house. I now take this love for playing into creating wild games with my many nieces and nephews.
As for the other parts of my imagination, we would often sit and reflect on our dreams at night or our wandering daydreams throughout the day. I had confided in him that I was embarrassed that I only dreamed in black and white for random things and in color for serious or important scenarios. He would always tell me that it was a gift to have the ability to see and feel things the way I could through my mind and embrace it. He said I could see two sides of every story: through black and white and color.
Kara is my personality. Beth is my interest. I understand why I went through that phase in middle school where I only wanted to be called Kara. Beth is my dad. Beth is the interest I developed because of him. Taking Beth out of my name was my mind trying to run away from the grief I was facing. I understand that my personality and my interests are equally important. My name is not Kara, and my name is not Beth. I am Kara Beth.
Kara Beth Poe is a McConnell Scholar at the University of Louisville in the class of 2027. She is studying political science and communications with a minor in political marketing.