What’s In a Name? Turns Out A Lot.

Malini Sekhar
7 min readJan 31, 2024
Dirty mug on the ground that has label that says “Hello my name is,” and its left blank
Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

I hate you and Dad for giving me this name.”

Ouch. Happy New Year!

It took me a minute or 50 to sit with the ache of that statement from my 12 year old. I’m coming to realize that it’s not just a hilarious cosmic joke that many of us start our not midlife crisis, but midlife unraveling journey while entering the land of parenting teens. It’s actually kind of a gift where a sense of humor is not required but strongly recommended. My son’s honest but piercing statement was a catalyst and invitation for me to roll up my sleeves and get to work. I needed to shed my own baggage around a hurtful past with people trying to say (or not say) my own name correctly as well.

Before going deeper, let me call out the fact that there’s A LOT packed into the significance of our names. While there can be great beauty to the meaning and origin of one’s name, there can also be great pain for those on the receiving end. Especially if we don’t feel it represents who we truly are. I’m also not an expert in the pronunciation of many names and words, and acknowledge that we can all sit on both sides of this experience.

As a first step with my son, and after allowing some more space to feel what he needed to, I told him I was sorry that he experienced what he did. I shared that I was open to continuing the conversation, and exploring a change if he feels strongly. In this moment, it was more important to understand the source of his feelings.

He shared that much of it was around how his name was being mispronounced and butchered in his middle school. I’m not sure if he attempts to share his name correctly so they are aware. But he’s one semester into the year, and some teachers still don’t quite say it right or make the attempt. And recently, a substitute teacher’s effort was so awful that it didn’t even sound like they were using the same letters.

That sucks. I remember. And it still stings.

After things settled, he felt better for having expressed his hurt and anger for hard things happening at school. He even apologized for some of his harsh words at us. Given that something in me was still being pinched and poked by hearing all of this, I realized it was time for me to circle back into myself. I needed to lovingly allow myself to shed some armor and battle wounds around my own name and lighten my load.

Call Me Bob? Only at Starbucks.

At my core, I’ve actually always appreciated my name. Though I was born and raised in the U.S. my family’s roots are from south India. My name has a few different Sanskrit (an ancient Indo-European language) meanings including a river in India referred to in Hindu mythology, and “the garlanded one,” in reference to the goddess and the Divine Feminine. There are plenty of other meanings and references that I continue to learn about as information bridges oceans and becomes more accessible to everyone.

I loved that my immigrant parents came up with something that was culturally meaningful to them. They didn’t fold and name me something simple a non-Indian could say more easily. I can very much understand the families that end up doing that. Yet even when I was young, the social justice rebel in me appreciated that it was a kind of fuck you to a time and culture in America where assimilation was being pushed hard. Doesn’t change the fact that I’ve struggled with how people have said or not said my name and continue to do so.

There were the garden variety mispronunciations. I would brace myself on the first day of school when a name that sounded like mine was called. In later years, I would know where my name would come up alphabetically, and say it before they got a chance to mess it up — and help them say it right. I was good at certain sports in high school, and would prepare to wince or fake an unbothered laugh when a student who didn’t know me would give me a shout out in the morning announcements. I had a high school chemistry teacher who could never get my name right. After I corrected her for the 60th time, she said to me, “Well, when you have children, you’ll know to give them a name that people can pronounce.” I did offer an annoyed response to that which I’m confident didn’t help my grade in chemistry that semester. It wasn’t my life’s calling anyway.

Worse than that was not using a specific name but being referred to as “the little Indian girl,” by certain sports parents. They were willing to acknowledge me, but in a backhanded sort of way. The best was being called Miami Star in one of those student announcements. I mean at that point you really just have to laugh don’t you?

At times, I do wish my name was easier to say for the mainstream. I’ve heard folks that might share my culture “westernizing” the way their name is said to get by. It’s hard to hear that, but I totally get the mental space one might move into and “water down” their name just to cope, to survive. I half-jokingly tell people that if they really can’t say my name, to call me — Bob. And it’s because what hurts the most I realized — is when people don’t say your name at all. It may be because they’re scared to get it wrong. But it has the effect of making you feel invisible — like you don’t exist at all. You’re not called on or included in class or gatherings. Sadly, I’m more than 100% sure that my resume and those of millions of others have been passed over and ignored just by glancing at the “hard and different” names. The tragic irony in that case is that many of us have intentionally highlighted our names on our resumes and CVs in bold and larger text for the purpose of being remembered and seen. What is true and sad is that we all end up missing out on something.

Making Lemonade and a Way

Nowadays, I’ve learned to navigate the world reasonably well with my name. When interacting with others, behind the scenes, there is a whole filtering flow chart process that happens in my head. Does this person care to pronounce my name correctly? Will it be more than one interaction? Is it worth my time? Is there a point that needs to be made? In most cases, I’ll say my name correctly and also make corrections. I often use other words that I really don’t like such as colony to get folks to say my name right. I’m also fine with shortened nicknames from dear ones in my life who do know how to say my name. This is all extra energy and effort but feels worth it to support a better interaction. However, there are times I won’t bother. For example, a classic telemarketing call from a real human:

Someone walking in between train tracks
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Caller: “Can I speak to [insert an awful rendering of my name]?

Me: “Oh sorry, no one here by that name.”

Though my son giving voice to angst over his name was hard to hear, it gave me permission to be with my own unease. And for someone like me who finds joy and meaning in being of service to others on their own journeys, I know I have to keep walking, learning, healing and staying open and curious on my own. We all do.

And for those of us who might be wondering how they can be more supportive and kind to those who have names that feel difficult to say (and I include myself here also for those names I’m less familiar with), here are some ideas to consider, and collectively grow and build on:

  • Bring honesty to the conversation — If you know it’s unlikely you’re pronouncing a name right, consider approaching the conversation gently with openness and curiosity. “Can you tell me how to pronounce your name correctly?” “I would love to try and get it right.”
  • Apologize as needed — It goes a long way to offer an apology that you actually mean. Doesn’t imply you’re weak or in trouble or a bad human. It just means that you got it wrong this time and you’re willing to take responsibility.
  • Keep Trying — For some of us, languages don’t come as easy and so pronouncing an unfamiliar name is genuinely challenging. But trying is the right thing to do. Making the continued effort, however taxing, matters and is meaningful to everyone involved. “Please keep correcting me until I get it right.”

With all of this, you’re offering good intentions. And more broadly, just think about the names in the U.S. we’ve somehow found a way to pronounce correctly or at least try to — Zuckerberg, Siobhan, Djokovic, Worcester, etc. Heck, if we think the Mary Poppins song “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” is worth creating and singing correctly, don’t you think we could put some effort into saying someone’s name right we are interacting with?

(Please do share additional thoughts/suggestions/ideas in the comments section below if you have them!)

And for those of us working through this on the receiving end, feeling out intentions and offering up as much patience and compassion as possible is not something we have to do. But it’s something that can help build worthwhile connections and bridges. Just think of the good karma points we amass out of it!

As we settle into this new year, if and when we bump up against hard things, may we all lean into lovingly lightening our loads for ourselves and others.

Hand with a small sparkler in it.
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Malini Sekhar

I heart #socialinnovation, #creativity, laughter & ninja unicorns. Fellow traveler on this silly, sacred road trip of ours.