By Maria José Diaz
Staff Writer
Since my family and I moved from Colombia to Houston, my name, which was once highly valued and popular, became a source of inescapable torment.
In Colombia, my name Maria José is more than just a name; it is a symbol of beauty, class and a religious tradition connecting Mary and Joseph, the parents of Jesus, into a combined name meant for a girl. However, in this new predominantly white community of Houston, the name that I used to think was beautiful, became a weapon against me.
From the moment I introduced myself, people either reduced José to a middle name or ridiculed it for sounding masculine, unable to understand why a girl would have a name like mine. I felt ashamed, as if my name didn’t belong in their world. My identity had become a painful reminder of how different and unwelcome I felt in this new place.
Influenced by my peer’s judgment, I started introducing myself simply as “Maria,” stripping the part of my name that drew unwanted attention, and surrendering to the pressure of fitting in. With each “Maria” I responded to, I felt a growing disconnection from the name I once loved and from myself. Yet, I felt satisfied that everyone- peers, friends, teachers and even Starbucks baristas- were calling me something that allowed me not to confront the harsh reality of my unwanted name.
No one should endure feeling humiliated or unwanted due to their uncommon name. We must genuinely try to learn a person’s unique name with as much respect and compassion as possible because even though it is such a small effort, it will greatly impact their life.
There is always the expectation of assimilation; adopting American culture at the expense of your cultural traditions, and changing your birth name to an American name. Hearing from peers, I’ve noticed how normalized it is to submit to these pressures. This custom of assimilation can lead to carelessness in pronouncing ethnic names correctly as it is an unintentional form of discrimination that sends the message that a person’s name and identity are not worth learning thus diminishing their sense of belonging and self-worth.
However, it is crucial to understand that by assimilating, you are not only losing your culture but also your identity, as it widens the gap between the new life you’re forced to assume and the past that embraces your culture.
Now in TC, I have noticed that in many Asian cultures, names are created to reflect the parents’ dreams for their child’s future, fusing elements of fortune, ancestral heritage and cultural values. These deeply rooted traditions that once represented the beauty of one’s culture are lost when one decides to simply find a list of names and look for an American name to please society. Immigrants who shed the symbolic meaning of their names to assimilate into society involuntarily contribute to the loss of history, and of minority cultures in America.
For those who choose to keep their ethnic names, the experience of having their name mispronounced forces them into a position of having to explain themselves and their identification. Each time they encounter a pause from someone reading their name, they are forced to reconsider their place in the new environment, reminding them that they do not belong.
Psychological research shows that our perception of how others will respond to our names impacts our interaction with them. When you anticipate that people will struggle or react negatively to your name, it will shape how you present yourself and how you feel about your identity. This leads to a constant adjustment of your identity to fit others’ expectations, ultimately creating a sense of impostor syndrome where you feel disconnected from your true self.
When you constantly don’t correct people on your name you let your self-esteem take a hit, invalidating your needs and therefore affecting your relationship with the world as no one will respect you if you don’t respect yourself.
After living a life disguising my identity, I recently recognized that Maria José has always been a beautiful name and has always represented me. When I came to this school as a new student in ninth grade, I wanted to heal what the little me felt when she came to this country and liberate myself from the mask that was weighing on me, the humiliations I went through and the broken sense of self I developed from feeling unwanted. I introduced myself as Majo and recognized myself as the person I have always known myself to be.
However, it is undeniable that mistakes will happen within our school and later on in life, especially as immigrants, who account for 65% of the total U.S. population and continue to increase, become more recognized. To build an inclusive environment, we must make an effort to pronounce names correctly so that everyone feels valued. For this to occur, immigrants and their children must also take action to claim their ethnic name and embrace their true identity. Inclusivity starts with people respecting the origin of ethnic names and people embracing the beauty of the name they were given.
Some people might argue that changing one’s ethnic name is a practical solution to fit in and be accepted or that a name is just a string of letters and sounds that indicate that one is being addressed. However, it is crucial to remember that a name is directly connected to identity, they are a reflection of who you are, as you recognize your culture and past, so, when changing one’s name for the convenience of others and thinking there is no importance to it, one might achieve temporary social ease but lose their individuality as they normalize the idea of reshaping identity to accommodate the social standard.
Our names are symbolic and they should not be thrown away or despised just to simply fit in. It is important to remember the origin of your given name because it correlates with how you understand the world and your past. Without accepting your given name, you hold no identity, you are nothing.
Ultimately, I have learned to live with and love my name, the same one I despised for as long as I can remember because it represents who I am and where I came from. I would never change it if I could.