Say my name

Earlier this week I was being introduced to the director of a partner agency. My coworker said, "This is Mai..." and the other person jumped in loudly with, "My WHAT?! My WHAT?!", clearly cracking himself up. I'm fully aware Mai sounds like "my", a possessive pronoun in English. And that it rhymes with "hi". I'm aware it's a name people may not be familiar with. I've heard every joke and pun in the book from the time I was in daycare to this very f-ing day.

Part of my experience of racism has been that it can be dormant for awhile, letting me forget that I'm still viewed differently by the world around me. (The fact that it's not incessant is a privilege I recognize.) I'll be moving along with my guard down, when something ugly pops up and reminds me, "not so fast... you are not one of us, you do not belong here". People feel so entitled to name me, instead of hearing me, that I have previously gone an entire semester with a teacher calling me "May-lee". At this point in my life, I actually turn my head when someone says "May" or "Maya" because I know they could be talking to me. Whether a joke, or repeated mispronunciation, I'm used to name baggage.

I looked at this guy stone faced and said, "That gets old really fast". He awkwardly tried to pivot the joke, and my coworkers moved on with the conversation. Now this part I cannot know for sure, but as I shook his hand he gave me a look that silently said, "you uptight bitch". I'm well acquainted with this look from a lifetime of being told that I don't have a sense of humor (mostly for not laughing at jokes made at the expense of myself or others), but I could be wrong. Even in the most generous reading of his reaction though, he did not soften or show regret.

His comment was nothing noteworthy, unfortunately. But up until this point, I have usually ignored jokes about my name. I just wait until the person has amused himself and I go on with business as usual. I especially do not say anything when the person has more power than me, like a teacher, manager, or older person. It has always seemed like more trouble than it's worth. Isn't it better to just let it go than to be perceived as difficult?

Over time my thinking on this has shifted. I think about how my parents intentionally gave me a Vietnamese name, and only a Vietnamese name. I could have been a Michelle, Tina, or Jennifer. I was born in the United States. My parents knew there were easier options, but they picked Mai, a daily reminder of my heritage in the overwhelming current of English speaking whiteness around us. I have been thinking so much lately about my family history, about my parents' journey to the US, and the price that they have each paid. I think about my mom's remarkable resilience, and my dad's eternal hope. I am the living embodiment of that, and my name is the label they chose for their legacy.

I was caught off guard by this exchange, and didn't respond exactly the way I would have liked to in a work setting. Next time I'll go with something direct, but less passive aggressive. But one thing is clear to me. It is worth it to speak up. If my name and my identity are not worth the trouble, then what is? What could be more fundamental than the respect to be called what I want to called? I have been socialized to be nice, quiet, and deferential, but I've been actively working to break out of that box. It's clear that not everyone likes an assertive woman,  and I struggle with that. But I take comfort and pride in knowing I am loved by those who see me in full.

I took my assertiveness a step further, and brought this incident up at a staff meeting a few days later, where everyone was white. This was not easy for me. I had no idea if they were going to downplay it, defend him, or start treating me differently as "that person" who has to bring race into things. I felt like I was opening a can of worms in an otherwise pleasant workplace. But I felt like I had to take the risk and see. My voice shook and my chest got tight; I felt so intensely vulnerable. But my team did not let me down. They said they hadn't noticed my discomfort, and admitted that by overlooking the exchange, they had failed to be good allies. They recognized it wasn't fair for me to be left on my own to call out his inappropriate display of power and privilege.

It's hard to convey the weight that was lifted from me after this conversation. This whole incident represented a major shift for me. I took the same old setup, and changed the ending. I know this won't be the last time I get a tired joke about my name, and I know I'm not always going to feel emboldened to stand up for myself, or be able to enlist allies. But now I know what it feels like to do both. The only regret I have is waiting 31 years to feel safe enough to step into that.

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I posted my experience on a social justice-oriented non profit forum, and got a LOT of feedback on it, like 200+ comments.  So many people validated my feelings of anger and frustration and helped me process the experience, but some people were skeptical or had questions about the whole "ethnic" name situation. I want to share some of the comments in case you are having similar reactions or questions from my story.

Unhelpful Comment A: I doubt most of these come from a place of malice. For me it would probably be a way to break the ice and especially for me to remember your name.., I’m terrible at it and often use these types of techniques just not often out loud. I also understand why you feel that way. I think what you said was fine... or a “yeah, I’ve heard them all” would be fine. Just remember it’s probably the thousandth time for you but the first time for them. I’m sure they don’t mean to be rude and neither do you.

Helpful Responses:

• It doesn’t matter if it’s intentionally malicious or not. Someone doesn’t have to think to themselves “I’m going to say something low-key racist about this person’s name right now,” in order to say something racist. That’s what a microaggression is.
• This article will help: https://www.vox.com/2015/2/16/8031073/what-are-microaggressions
• Microaggressions aren't always motivated by malice, but they still make spaces less comfortable & safe for POC, they "otherize" POC, contribute to a diversity gap, and perpetuate racism. Couple of things important to understanding microagressions: 
• 1) impact matters more than intent. If the impact of your action is harmful, it does not matter if you were well-intended. 
• 2) the pile-on principle. Just like [another commenter] said, this is probably the thousandth time Mai has heard this. So her reaction reflects that and is completely valid.

Unhelpful Comment B: If I were in this situation, I would embrace the feeling behind the words and give people the benefit of doubt: that they’re trying to connect with me, with open arms, looking for a way in. This might sound cheesy but I would immediately have a response that changes the subject away from my name (if I didn’t want to call attention to it) with a fun or funny canned response.My name is Nick and I used to hear St Nick and Nickelodeon a lot. I think people were saying these things to connect with me and not to make fun of me. I believe people are generally good!

Helpful responses: 

• Nick, we have spent considerable time stating that it is uncomfortable. Thus, why is the brunt of responsibility is on the person to keep being uncomfortable because you haven't heard a cool name. Why don't the majority realize that for centuries we suck it up to keep our jobs or in many cases stay alive and stop doing it. It is not appropriate. Snowflake, yes to some, but many we are tired of it.
• I’d like to point out respectfully that there is a difference between people drawing comparisons with pop culture (I got a lot of “Princess Diana” growing up) vs making “clever” remarks about a name that is obviously not anglophone. There is a racist undertone here (or at least a xenophobic one, if you want to be more generous) which is at the root of the hurt. Yes, the Princess Di stuff was annoying as a kid, but the stuff that really hurt was about my last name — purposeful mispronunciations, comparisons with “Achoo,” “shoe,” and the like — edited to add: pointing out obvious difference with a “joke” is a subtle but not so subtle way of saying “you’re not from here” or “you don’t belong here” that the pop cultural references lack altogether.

Unhelpful Comment C: I'm sure that must be annoying; but in the grand scheme of things is it really the biggest deal in the world? What to do is learn how sarcastically play with people:) You're gunna get comments all the time, it's normal human tendency for others to spin on names. Thats how people interact. Its okay to use wit and humor in post commentary to the other person. Have fun with your linguistic abilities and good luck!

Helpful responses: 

• Actually, it is a big deal. Because it isn't like getting the wrong brand of cereal. It is our name. For a lot of people with non-typical names, it is a litany of years of puns, songs, incorrect pronounciation, wrong spellings, white-ification. It dissolves us of our identity and erases, literally, our NAME. Yeah, it's a big deal.

And a final word from one of the forum moderators:

I would like people to notice how this entire thread tends to Center white viewpoints and experiences.

There is a distinct history of mispronunciation and bigoted humor related to “ethnic” names belonging to people of color in particular. It is a sign of disrespect, racism, xenophobia, and bias. In other words, often white people will take the time or value learning how to correctly pronounce jägermeister but something like gracias is too complicated (and white people, monolingual English speakers are mispronouncing it. See video of little girl being asked “how do Mexicans say...”)

Joking about the name of a person of color upon meeting them is the culmination of history, societal inequality, and bias. It’s saying that this person is not valued enough (as in not a cisgender heterosexual white man) to learn their names. There is a history and actual psychological phenomena related to racism that makes it hard for white people to hear these names, and immediately dismiss learning them properly. Hence the, “can I just call you...”

That is the context that everyone has to contend with when interacting with each other. Regardless of intention.

And please notice how many white people, and one person of color, highlighted the intentions of the person who insulted the OP by making a joke of her name.

That is problematic for a number of reasons, the foremost being the assumption that the joker man should not be questioned for fear of his reaction. Too many times people of color are forced to coddle and manage the emotions of white people, because the potential for danger exists, through defensiveness and other violent communication, or through other ways that white fragility is maintained. This reinforces the subject/lower position of people of color/racism by not speaking truth about harm and impact of white people’s behavior.

Other confusions around different types of names held by white people are not on the same level of harmful impact at all.

My middle name is only 4 letters, guess how many times [it] has been turned into BOB.

Some folks of color have addressed this form of racism by deliberately using the incorrect name with the joker (there is a famous story about how one Black woman handled it at her office) until he understood that his intentions were irrelevant in the face of his impact.

Finally, Mai you handled it well, and you’ll learn how to handle it better so that you don’t feel so powerless and at the whim of others’ reactions.