My name is Rosalba, not Rosie or Rose. It’s Rosalba. (Rose-al-ba). I have spent my whole life having people call me Rosie or like I used to spell it Rosi. I learned early on that my name was too difficult to pronounce. Instead of making people uncomfortable with trying to pronounce it, I just told them to call me Rosie. It is not uncommon for kids to choose an Americanized pronunciation or a new name entirely. I thought to get SOME individuality, I would spell my name different rather than the typical Rosie, you know, to stand out from the herd.

 

 

 While my family still called me Rosalba, I decided very early on not to use my full name in public. It typically started with those first days of schools when teachers did their roll-calls. Those were the worst! Whenever there was a pause or moment of hesitation, I knew it was my turn. Often times, I would anxiously jump in before teachers even made an attempt. Just because I wanted to avoid the embarrassment. This was my experience year after year.
There was a sense of shame that came with having a “non-typical” name. There were several moments in my childhood that I was even angry about it. Why would my mom and dad set me up for future ridicule? Why couldn’t they pick a “normal” name?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 My Name Is Yoon (Read aloud)

 

You see, mispronouncing a name may not seem like a big deal. Still, it can have a significant impact on how a person sees themselves and how they feel about their cultural background. Children can feel humiliated or even invisible with their peers. Imagine going to school without ever seeing your name in a textbook; people constantly mispronouncing your name and others, not even making an attempt to learn it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Teach Us Your Name (book)

 

 As an adult, nothing had really changed. You meet new people, find new work experiences, and it’s the same situation. “Hi, nice to meet you. My name is Rosalba, call me Rosie” I automated my own introduction. I had anglicized my name to make it easier for someone else not to have to deal with discomfort. I didn’t even recognize it anymore as part of my identity. I was insecure about it. I would do anything to avoid the feeling of judgment that came along with saying my name. That is until I became a teacher. That’s when things started to change.

 

 As a teacher, I made it a point to pronounce every student’s name correctly and also enforced that the rest of my class do the same out of respect. I was very proud of myself for that. I thought I was going to foster a sense of belonging and build some positive relationships in my room. What I witnessed was quite the opposite. Even though I almost demanded everyone to respect each other’s names, some students still gave themselves nicknames. All I kept thinking was ‘what are you doing kid? I got your back here’. I didn’t get it. Here I was defending their honor, and they still chose to go for an easier, ‘Americanized’ route. Why? It was for the same reasons I used my nickname as well – to avoid humiliation from their friends. As much as I did relate, I wished these students would realize the impact it has. And for them to see the beauty that makes them unique.

 

 The Name Jar (Read Aloud)

 

 The kids that teased didn’t help the situation, but neither did some of the staff. Several staff members would complain about a student they had on their roster. Staff would complain about difficult names as well. I would hear, “Why would they (parents) name their child that?” “Why can’t they just pick a normal name?” “Why would they spell it that way”?

 

 Alma and How She Got Her Name (read aloud)

 

 Do you know what I did throughout most of those awkward conversations… Nothing. I bit my tongue. What a freakin hypocrite I was! Here I am thinking that I am an ally to these students, but in reality, I was no better.

 

 But those years of staying quiet didn’t last too long. As I watched this happen to more and more kids, something changed in me. I decided to take a stand against it. So how do you take a stand against this age-old cultural disrespect? I figured it had to start with me. I planned to start teaching people how to say my name. I started expecting/demanding that they say the WHOLE thing.

 

 What once made me insecure actually became my source of confidence. Why should I be ashamed of my name? It’s beautiful.

 

 I’m proud of my name and where it came from. My name is merged from my two grandmothers Rosa and Alba. My name represents my family, my culture, and my identity.

 

 

 

 

 So I decided no more cope out. I’m not going to transfer other people’s discomfort onto myself any longer. The more we normalize it the less discomfort there will be. And at the end of the work we put into pronouncing and respecting everyone’s name, the discomfort will disappear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 So you will hear me say my name over and over. In every introduction, every presentation, every workshop. You get the point. And yes, I’m expecting people to use it. I’m holding people accountable because I would expect someone to hold me just as accountable. No one should be ashamed of their name or identity. My name is Rosalba, not Rosie or Rose. It’s Rosalba. (Rose-al-ba).

 

• The Lasting Impact of Mispronouncing Students’ Names
• How We Pronounce Student Names, and Why it Matters