My Personal Journey

Welcome to my blog. I'm so happy that you're here. Read on to learn more about me, my passions, and what makes me... me.

My name is Brooke Lynn - not Brooklyn, the Bronx, or any other borough composing New York City. Yet, the name Brooke (first) Lynn (middle) was very intentional on my parent's part. My father was raised in the Brooklyn Projects on the corner of Flatbush and Canarsie in destitution. He was orphaned at the age of 16 after my grandmother, Beatrice, passed from ovarian cancer and my grandfather, Daniel, passed from colon cancer. Left with nothing, my father did everything he could to survive and lead a life of significance. Against all odds, he found himself at Columbia University pursuing a Bachelors Degree in Geotechnical and Civil Engineering. My mother, on the other hand, was a tumultuous army brat. The second oldest of seven siblings, she often found herself escaping in the woods, getting into trouble, and avoiding the next inevitable move to a faraway town. She moved out at 15, became pregnant at 19 with my older sister, and never made it to a high school class. Sometime in the 1990s, my soon-to-be parents found themselves across the bar from each other at Bimini Boatyard in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. It must of been my father's conventionality and consistency and my mother's eccentricity and erraticism that drew the two polar opposites together. Next thing they knew, there I was.

When crafting my name, my father wanted to pay respect to the borough that molded him. The city of Brooklyn represents opportunity, adversity, and unapologetic authenticity, while the Brooklyn Bridge symbolizes connection, transcendence, and striking innovation. The separation of Brooke from Lynn compels a pause, a breath, a moment to think. It insinuates a disunion, yet the fluidity of the name together promotes unity.

Like the iconic Brooklyn Bridge, I intend to serve as a nexus - connecting varying perspectives, typically disassociated fields, and diverse individuals towards a collective goal.

At the same time, my mother wanted to name me after my grandmother Beatrice. While Beatrice wasn't the most popular name in the 90's (neither was Brooklyn, to be fair), they settled for "B" - a nickname for both my late grandmother and me. From what I've heard, my grandmother Beatrice was strong, resilient, loved to travel, and never took anyone's sh*t. She was fiercely independent, and while dying from cancer, gathered all of her resources to push my father and aunt towards a higher education. I was born on the same day and time of the anniversary of her death, exactly 30 years later, on December 17th, 1997.

I view this date as a powerful reminder from the universe that I am ancestrally protected, divinely guided, and arrived at the exact right moment.

While my parents are no longer together, I have to give them credit for their creativity and intention behind my name. Despite conventionally different backgrounds and viewpoints, they molded the two to create me. And while I am certainly not a direct reflection of my mother or father, I am so grateful to have my father's grit and my mother's spunk. I will continue to give the name "Brooke Lynn" its justice, and always raise a little hell, knowing it's a symbol of family, freedom, and faith to come.