By Sr Helena Panzo, Luanda, Angola (Sector of Angola and Mozambique)
On World Tattoo Day, Sister Helena Panzo from Angola shares her personal testimony of how, despite facing judgment, she chose to embrace her tattoo as part of her identity —a testament to the resilience that we in the Good Shepherd community hold close to our mission of acceptance and compassion.
When I was fourteen years old in 6th grade, a school prank led my classmates to tattoo each other’s names on their arms with bean husks. Because I felt pressurized by my peers, I allowed them to write my name on my arm in honor of my grandfather, who had named me—although I did not fully give my consent.
They attempted to write my full name, Helena Paulina (‘Helena’ in memory of Saint Helena, mother of Emperor Constantine and discoverer of the True Cross, and ‘Paulina’ as our family name), but because I was struggling so much, they only managed to write the diminutive “Helen Pole”.
I grew up carrying this mark, still unaware that in other places it would be seen as inappropriate and out of step with social norms. When I left my hometown of Damba in the Province of Uíge to enter the Sisters of the Good Shepherd as a postulant, I faced judgmental challenges – something which continued right into my adult life.
The name “Helen Pole” on my arm—which had seemed trivial in adolescence—became a topic of constant curiosity and questioning by my sisters, who wanted to know how I came to have this tattoo. Their repeated questions caused me deep suffering: I felt branded not only by the tattoo but by an inferiority complex because I felt that I was constantly being judged.
That internal conflict led me to confront my personal history and my difficult childhood. In recent years, I decided to remove the tattoo because of the complexes, sadness, rejection, and criticism it had caused me over the years. However, through accompaniment and guidance, I was advised against it. I came to understand that the names imprinted on my arm carried indelible marks—they contained my life story, my identity, and my roots.
So, instead, I embraced a process of acceptance, integrating the tattoo as part of my identity and reimagining my own beautiful story. Above all, nothing surpasses the gift of my vocation—a heart filled with zeal for the most disadvantaged.
Today, this tattoo makes me feel more deeply connected with all those who suffer social mistreatment, rejection, judgment, and discrimination—and in greater communion with our foundress, Saint Mary Euphrasia, who tirelessly reached out to those excluded from society.
