“My Father’s Name is #3022” by Jack S. touched me emotionally. The author really let me into his head, and gave me insight on what it feels like to have to explain that he was conceived through artificial insemination. As what he called “genealogical bewilderment” overwhelmed him, he felt lonely and desperately wanted to be normal. I completely felt for him, and I felt like I was by his side throughout his change. Jack ultimately changed when he listened to the tape that included an interview between his father and the sperm bank. His father told the child that would be conceived from his sperm (Jack) that he was proud of him and wanted him to be confident about the method of his conception. Jack stated, “I could feel the honesty radiating from his voice, and I truly believed he was a good man.” Towards the beginning of the article, he described how much he hated the way he was conceived. And then, at the end, he said that if he were to ever meet his father, Sperm #3022, he would thank him rather than be angry. As Jack said in the article, “Without him, I would not exist, and now I know that his reason for donating his sperm was a pure one.” I thought the way Jack introduced the subject in the beginning was extremely clever, and I admire that. The reader is confused by the title, and then the introduction described the birthday cake his mother made for him. He then illustrated how he wished to meet his biological father, #3022, every year. The reader is still puzzled, until the first sentence of the next paragraph, where he brought up artificial insemination through anonymous sperm donation. Now the reader knows what he meant by #3022. This article deeply impacted me, and opened my eyes to what it feels like being artificially conceived. The end was the part that mostly triggered my sensitive side: “When I turn 18, I plan on tracking down #3022. I am not expecting to find my dad; I am merely hoping to meet my father.”