(Re)claim your name
Your name marks your existence in the world. As much as it defines you, you had never chosen it. You were given your name long before you could pronounce it. It is the aural gift from your parents, an audible anchor to the heritage, history, and ancestry that flows in your veins.
Being Asian or Pacific Islander in America, you could have a name that isn’t widely familiar to many people around you. It may not even feel familiar to you at times. You have an identity that’s distinct. And your name draws attention to it. It also means hearing your name mispronounced, seeing it misspelled, and possibly having it made fun of, or likened to an object that sounds like it.
Maybe you have two names: an ethnic name and an ‘American’ name. One name is reserved for home, and the other is handed out to people outside your home to call you. Both names make you feel seen but for different reasons. One marks your cultural identity, the other helps you assimilate a social identity into the American gaze. Both names belong to you, but somehow it can feel awkward when they’re together in the same room, and they rarely are.
Having a non-anglicized name may make introductions or roll call in school an uneasy experience. Does introducing yourself to people with a quick addition of spelling out your name or offering a shorthand or nickname feel familiar? Do you brace yourself during roll call in class, learning to carefully read how the teacher takes a hesitant breath before reading your name and you immediately volunteer-call your name to stop them from pronouncing it? We bend and skew our name to the American accent so that people around us can feel more comfortable addressing us, and more inclined to include us.
In a bid to fit in, we attempt self-erasure. Altering our name for someone else is one way of removing the distinct parts of us. Sometimes a new name is given to us against our own will. Teachers or acquaintances ask “Can I call you…. instead?” so that they don’t have to feel uncomfortable every time they address us. Unconsciously, we internalize someone else’s discomfort in saying our name, as if it’s our own fault for their inability to say it.
UnSuk’s Story
In many social settings, your name speaks for you before you can. The way people react to hearing an Asian name that’s not common in the room can make you feel singled out even before you’ve had a chance to really talk and assert your identity. The difference is underlined before the similarities can be outlined, all because you have a “different” name.
At Asian Girls Ignite, we are constantly championing the individual and collective power of being AAPI through shared stories. We want to curate UnSuk’s story here. UnSuk is a close partner of our work and was invited to be a storyteller at ElevAsian Night Market Fundrasier, which took place in August 2023. This is our annual event where AAPI women-led businesses and entertainers take center stage to raise funds for empowering AAPI girls and gender-expansive youth. Storytellers like UnSuk help put words to emotions and feelings that many of us in the AAPI community think about a lot.
UnSuk explained that the syllables of her name mean grace and mercy (은 Un), and solemnity and dignity (숙 Suk). In her story, UnSuk said, “I’m here as part of my journey in reflection of how much of my life I have been asked to give grace and mercy but rarely allowed my full dignity, starting with my name.” Being raised in a white community in Idaho, UnSuk has had a complicated journey with being Asian. Social belonging is crucial to all of us, and for young UnSuk, she imbibed the idea that in order to be accepted by the larger majority of her white friends, neighbors, and acquaintances, she had to subtract the parts of her that were “too Asian” to fit in, and her name is one of the indicators of being Asian.
Today, UnSuk has come to terms with the fact that she’ll never be “white enough” in certain spaces. She no longer changes herself to qualify. She cherishes and celebrates her Korean heritage, and no longer erases parts of it to fit in. She is now focusing her energies on contributing to social justice, finding what behaviors her younger self needed to dismantle so she can help AAPI youth do the same, and exploring new ways to empower youth and take pride in their being. If you think that your story or background, like UnSuk’s, can help more AAPI youth navigate the complexities of their identity, consider partnering with us in a capacity that works for you.
UnSuk’s collaboration with us at ElevAsian and sharing of her story helps our young audience members learn that the inner conflict to own their name is not a lonely battle. Even though your name belongs to you alone, the struggle to say it loud and confidently is a shared one.
Tongue-twisting and identity-tangling
Transliterating is the act of transferring words from one language into the alphabet of another. Unlike translation which deals with the meaning of words, transliteration helps you pronounce a word in another language, but it does not tell you the meaning of the original word.
In the North American context, immigrant families feel pressured to alter the pronunciation of our names to suit Western context and accents. Having two names is just another way many immigrant families assimilate into a new country while retaining the cultural identity of their home country. Having an Asian or Pacific Islander name can often mean transliterating it to the context around us; we break down our name into easy-to-pronounce syllables, wear down a vowel here and there, so it can roll off someone else’s tongue, while we bite ours from saying it the way it was meant to be pronounced.
Claiming what’s yours
Jieun Ko, musician and part of the indie folk-soul duo, Jieun and Greg, reclaimed her birth name after years of being called ‘Chi’. Chi was not a name her parents picked, it came into being because a staff member of the immigration office in South Korea transliterated her name incorrectly changing it from “Jieun Ko” to “Chi Un Ko”.
After her family immigrated to America in 1990, she continued to be known as “Jieun” to loved ones, but her mother retained “Chi” as her American name.
Growing up, Jieun was teased about her name, and the constant bullying brought her to the point of introducing herself to people saying they could call her whatever they wanted, almost as if her existence could be warped to however they wanted to name her. She grew to hate her name, and in turn the Korean heritage that gave it to her.
Watching the rise in anti-Asian crimes fueled by the pandemic and the following years led Jieun to rethink her identity and how she showed up for her community. In a bid to reclaim who she is, Jieun switched her name back to the one she was given at birth. On the music duo’s blog, she writes, “I hope to give other Asian Americans and people of color the space to resist assimilation, cultural erasure, and self-erasure, and firmly hold onto their cultural roots. I hope to give other immigrants and immigrant kids the space to be proud of their beautiful names and the rich cultures they come from.”
When people like UnSuk and Jieun claim their names, it inspires other people to mindfully acknowledge their identity and culture.
Learn Your Name
Appreciating your name starts with knowing what it means and stands for. It is linked to your cultural identity. Navigating your complex identity starts with knowing who you are and your name marks that identity.
Many cultures in Asia have different rules as to how they pick names. In some cultures, a name is picked based on an astrological sign, or a particular letter of the alphabet. In South Korea, some names are picked based on the fortune the parents wish for the child. In various parts of India, people are given the village name, their father’s name, and community name; the name is shortened into initials. In Thailand, names are usually picked to imply positive things. In Myanmar, surnames do not exist so given names should be used in full and not broken up.
Whatever naming convention your ethnic name follows, it was picked with a lot of consideration, given to you with love, and makes a nod to your heritage. It has its own beautiful meaning. However challenging someone else may find it difficult to pronounce, give yourself the grace and space to be called something you want to hear yourself addressed as. A name can always be learned, it doesn’t have to be changed.
Owning your name with all its beautiful sounds and meanings is an act of owning yourself. It tells the world about the world your ancestors and family have come from. It stands as a testament to the courage and hope that your family embodies to be here, miles away from their home countries. It shows people around you that America is home to so many immigrants, each with a distinct culture and heritage that has a pronounced effect.
Your name matters.
Claim it.
Own it.
Say it out loud.
