It's Kiley.

True life: The priest called me "Riley Katharine" at my baptism.

True life: The library calls to tell me that "Killy K. Burns" has an overdue book.

True life: My dad's cousin and his wife address their Christmas cards to "Rich, Camilla, Kylie, and Ryan" every year.

True life: The Starbucks barista wrote "Kyle" on my hot chocolate.

My name is Kiley.  Pronounced exactly how it's spelled.  Spelled exactly how it sounds.

People tell the stories of how their parents couldn't decide on a name for them or how they were almost "a Rachel" or  "a Connor."  I have always been Kiley.  From the moment Camilla (my mom) found out she was having a baby, she knew that I was going to be Kiley.  Not just "a Kiley" but Kiley.  Kiley is Camilla's maiden name.  That's why it's spelled the way it is, and that is what makes me unique.

When thinking about the meaning of a name, most people overlook the spelling and focus on from where it was derived.  For me, those go hand in hand.  The Kiley family originates in rural Missouri. That's where I spend part of my summers- a town of 132 people called Baring, Missouri where Camilla and her six siblings were raised by Joe and Elizabeth Kiley.  To me, my name represents my family.  It represents caos and OCD and laughter and bad hips and the hypocrisy of showing up late yet criticizing others who do the same. I guess that is why I am so anal about people spelling it correctly.

My name and its meaning suits me.  I am fiercely independent-minded (like the uniqueness of my name's spelling), but still rely on the support of my family (like my name's origin).  I have no problem being defined by my name.  I have this theory that Camilla gave me this name as a way for her to maintain her individuality in marriage. My first name ties me back to her side of the family, while my last name, Burns, ties me to my dad's side.  If I do decide to get married and change my last name, I will still be named Kiley, and I will still serve as that representation of where I come from and carry that on for my mom.  Well-played, Camilla.

Being a part of a team is the greatest example of the conflict between individuality and being part of a whole.  It's the constant struggle between choosing between what benefits the team and what benefits you.  I struggled with this during my time on the Varsity Volleyball team here at Millbrook.  By no means was I the best on the team, and thus did not get a lot of playing time.  It was incredibly frustrating, and I got to the point where I had no desire to maintain my good work ethic.  I was torn between possessing an attitude of indifference and maintaining my positive attitude for the benefit of my teammates.

In volleyball especially, one bad apple spoils the whole bunch.  Attitude affects play and the success of the team is dependent on the play of all of its players.  Though I was frustrated with my experience on the team, I had to get over it and avoid bringing down the team.  I represented Millbrook.  I had to be the loudest one on the bench, and I had to give 110% those times when I did play because the season is about the whole. The off-season is about the individual.