It usually starts innocently enough. you struggle with a name, typically one from a culture other than your own. In your ears or the ears of others around you, the name sounds funny. Or it is hard to pronounce. You have a quick laugh. Or you create a name that’s “close enough.” Or you make a cultural reference about the person represented by the name.

No harm done, right?

Most of our names are given or carried to honor family, historical figures, heritage. A few, very few, names were designed to be funny. Clem Kadiddlehopper comes to mind. Marriage may create a few unintentional comical combinations.

Some folks, however, want to find humor in names. In their spelling. In their pronunciation. In the name itself. Indian names provide the best fodder currently, at least in the tech sector that I serve. Alliterative or repetitive names invariable raise a cackle or snicker in a meeting. Responses like “say that again.” Occasionally, cultural stereotypes combined with repetition of the name in a mock-accent create an epithetical reference.

Names also become funny when we can’t pronounce them, or don’t try to pronounce them. Like reading a foreign language, it can be difficult to decipher a name. Or trying to mimic the pronunciation of the name holder can seem frustrating. By not trying, we show a lack of tolerance, even a little belligerence. I’m not saying we have to get names exactly right, but it’s worth a try.

By Any Other Name

A number of years ago, a Chinese colleague and I were discussing her name as I prepared to get business cars printed for her. Her name was Xiaolin (“shou” like “chow”, then “Lynn”). “Shirley,” she told me with a delicate Chinese accent. “But why?” “It was easier in grad school.” “Is it your real name; your legal name?” She was known by her given name of Xiaolin after that. Sure, the name looked hard to pronounce. I mean, how many English words start with “x”. People heard it once from her, and it was easy to pronounce. “Shirley” may have been easier on the surface, but it robbed her of her heritage.

Some years before while I was in college, I worked for the Nebraska Department of Social Services and their refugee programs. During that time, I heard the story of Lily. She was a young girl forced to flee from her Southeast Asian home. The fog of time clouds whether she was Kampuchean, Laotian or Vietnamese. The escape was a harrowing trip by boat during which she was repeatedly raped by the armed soldiers “protecting” the escapees. After eventually landing on US soil, she was given the name “Lily” by a caseworker who either couldn’t or wouldn’t pronounce her name, or felt an “American” name was better than whatever given name she had. The name was accepted by the woman. Some time later, a different case worker working with a person from the same country was horrified to learn that the name “Lily” sounded like or roughly translated to “unclean” or “used” in the girl’s language. What was thought to be a beautiful American name for this girl was unwittingly an insult and derogatory label.

So, what can we do about the abuse of names? I realize that many immigrant families had their names changed as they entered this county by callous immigration clerks. Town names became family names, for instance. But, let’s not fall back on our past to justify present actions. Let’s own up to our cultural biases.

Think about how you might “defend” your own name. Think about the history or heritage carried in your family name. Or the pride and meaning placed in our given name. Even the way your name is used. Anthony or Tony. Michael or Mike or Mikey. Elizabeth or...well, any of the variations. I’ll bet you defend the version you prefer.

Does your name illicit snickers? Do you take offense at the laughter? Turn the tables the next time you catch yourself chuckling at a name.

Don’t want to look foolish trying other names? Consider this: maybe your name is hard for others to understand. Would you want someone else assigning you a “cultural” name? I don’t mean the obligatory French or German or Spanish name given you for high school language class. I mean a full-fledged Indian or Chinese or Sudanese or African-American name. How does Yitsundasaphunai sound to you?

PS: Check out Acts 10:11-18. Nice tie in, as my wife pointed out. Click here to read it.

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