By any other name

For students with nonanglican names, fitting in to USD can be a challenge.
Courtesy of the USD Media Gallery

In a predominantly English-speaking university, having a non-anglican name can pose a challenge

Paulina Sierra / Opinion Section Editor / The USD Vista

Names play a major part in the lives of everyone, from the way people see themselves to the way people navigate the world. One of the greatest challenges a student at USD or any other U.S. university can face is not having an anglicized name, and therefore challenging American language norms.

Mayamiko Matabwa, a USD sophomore who is from Malawi, has always dealt with people having a strong reaction to her name.

“I went to an international school, so most of the teachers I had weren’t Malawian,” Matabwa said. “You could see them starting to struggle. I think it was just because I haven’t had teachers who speak the language, and also because Malawi is such a small country, so the number of teachers in the world who are Malawian is very few.”

Similarly, Vayunamu Bawa, a USD senior, has also experienced significant confusion surrounding the pronunciation of her name both on campus and within her own community.

“I’m from Nigeria, and even there, the name isn’t common,” Bawa said. “For the longest time, no one had the name that I had ever met, because my tribe is small. A lot of people don’t even know the tribe, so a lot of people don’t know how to pronounce my name.”

Having a name that is difficult  to pronounce can cause a person to decide to use at school a nickname they would prefer to present themselves by on a daily basis. For Matabwa, that name is “Maya.”

“All my life, my parents called me Maya,” Matabwa said. “I’ve never really been called Mayamiko. I just default, I don’t even think about the original pronunciation, just because I’m so used to saying just Maya. I never think about pronouncing Mayamiko in its true form.”

The decision to use a nickname or to pronounce one’s name in an anglicized way in order to simplify introductions can cause friction with regard to the person’s culture. For Matabwa, not pronouncing “Mayamiko” in Chichewa, the native language of Malawi, results in the questioning of her nationality.

“I think it just comes back to me being a foreigner in all settings,” Matabwe said. “Because my name here is obviously a foreign name, and my name at home, because of the way I say (my name), people think I’m foreign. So, I don’t fit anywhere. At home, people mock me if I say it the way I say it, as if I was to present it here. And it just goes hand in hand with me not being very good at my home language as well. That all plays into being a foreigner here and also at home.”

Additionally, while nicknames can be used as a tool to make pronunciation a bit easier for others,  creating a nickname for someone whose name is “too hard to pronounce” can be disrespectful.

For Bawa, being assigned a nickname at introduction is considered a much more rude reactions than asking for the pronunciation.

“In my experience, there are people that think ‘I’m not going to remember this’, but then they keep asking,” Bawa said. “For me, I don’t feel like it’s rude. I guess it’s just cultural differences. But from the beginning, being like ‘oh, can I call you something else?’ and not even ever try again, I feel like that’s more disrespectful.”

When it comes to the best way to react to a name that seems difficult to pronounce, both Matabwa and Bawa agree that the most polite thing to do is ask the person what they would like to be called, and respecting whatever they tell you.

“For me, the first thing is just ask,” Matabwa said. “Don’t pronounce things anyhow, because names are very important. I think it just comes back to assumptions, and it is not good to assume, it’s better just to ask. Being someone with a unique name in this context, it just shows that someone cares, to try and ask.”

Bawa believes that the lack of effort people put into pronouncing her name reveals something more negative about society: a lack of caring.

“I feel like it has to do a lot with the culture,” Bawa said. “If you meet anyone, you’re just like ‘oh hey, what’s your name?’, and people don’t actually care. It’s not like you’re really starting a relationship.”

For Bawa, the way people react to her name at USD is indicative of something deeper than just language and culture difference; in her perspective, the culture of apathy towards acquaintances in the U.S. is high. While most people can agree  that simple introductions may not always matter, just how little they matter is of note to her. In Bawa’s eyes, the problem of how people react to a hard-to-pronounce name is not truly about the name itself, and never was. The problem is that having a name that is more difficult to remember allows people to dismiss it easily and externally, as opposed to digesting it in silence and forgetting it at the next opportunity.

Despite the difficulty and uncomfortable insights into American culture, both Matabwa and Bawa are happy to have their names.

“I really like my name because it is so rare and unique, so I’ve always felt special,” Bawa said. For Matabwe, having a name that is uncommon is an opportunity to educate people about her culture. “Here, I feel great because I’m unique,” Matabwe said. “I’ve got a cool-a** name. I can tell people about it, and then I can tell them about my country.”

Existing in a way that is “difficult” for people to understand is always a challenged, and this is emphasized even more when it is an issue of names and cultural identity. While names can seem trivial to those who have never encountered difficulty with them, others’ reactions can shape the way the person navigates the world. It is important to go about these introductory interactions with respect, and perhaps even shift how introductions are approached; what is often seen as an obligation, can be viewed as an opportunity to learn about new people and cultures.