Amy Chiu isn't my name. Or rather, it isn't the name that I was given at birth.
I was born in Taiwan and spent my early childhood there before my family immigrated to California. My parents, like many immigrants, made the leap to a new country in search of opportunity for themselves and for their kids.
I remember distinctly my mom flipping through an American name book and stopping at the name Amy. She said something in Chinese like, "Amy is a good name! It starts with A, and that means it's the best!" At that time she already associated the letter A with excellence, much like the letter grade that I would be pushed to earn from that moment on. It was important to her that she chose a typical American name to assimilate fully into American society.
Chiu is also not my last name, not really. When my family immigrated to the USA our surname was anglicized into four letters since there would be no Chinese characters on American legal documents. In Chinese, my surname would be pronounced Cho. I've wondered why it wasn't translated into Cho to be a more accurate match for the phonetic sound.
As I was a child when these changes took place, I didn't think too deeply about it and just started being Amy Chiu (pronounced "choo").
Now as an adult, I wonder how these changes affected my sense of self growing up and how I can better support others in claiming, or reclaiming, their identity through their name.
A bit of context...at the time my family immigrated the USA was described as a "melting pot" where the goal was to create a homogenous melange of people. The prevailing message promoted assimilation and becoming American in values and lifestyle. In my first year of American school, second grade to be exact, I was teased a lot for my very limited English, my name, how I dressed, and what I would eat for lunch. I was "othered" frequently by peers. I yearned to be accepted and I began to reject my culture. I stopped speaking Chinese at home and I demanded that my parents pack me American food for lunch. All I wanted was a sandwich in a brown paper bag, just like everyone had in school.
These days, the USA is reimagined as a "tossed salad" where individuals remain distinctly who they are in a group. People are empowered to be proud of their heritage and maintain ties to their native lands and language. In the field of early childhood education, we foster this new ideal through learning about families' backgrounds, traditions, customs, and language, and incorporating these elements into the classroom routine and culture. I am heartened by this new narrative that there are many kinds of Americans.
Of course, not everyone subscribes to this new narrative, intentionally or unintentionally. It still isn't easy to relate to those whose lives and upbringings differ from our own. There are still many instances of racism, subtle and overt. So it is vital that we participate in discourse about social justice even when many of us don't feel experienced enough or relevant enough to chime in. When looking at something as a whole is too overwhelming, we can narrow our focus and "start in a corner." I advocate for this approach.
One way that racism persists is in how we say other people's names. It's so simple and yet so impactful. We will come across names that cause us to trip over syllables and struggle to form the sounds, but our willingness to try should trump that awkwardness. I've met many folks who have offered alternative American-sounding names or nicknames in place of their harder-to-say-correctly OG name. It's a sweet gesture, but it's time we go out of our way to learn and say names the way they sound.
Going further, I wonder how we can be more conscious of using pet names. I've called a fair amount of children "Buddy" or "Friend" over the years and I've started to bristle at how often teachers call children these names, or Sweetie, Honey, and the like. On one hand, one could say they are harmless monikers and convey a familiarity and closeness. On the other hand, have we considered asking how each child wishes to be addressed like we would with an adult we meet? Would it be acceptable to just start calling another adult Buddy or Sweetie?
I think about how we can combat issues in the world of adults by first committing to making changes in the world of children. We can extend the same courtesy to children and they will grow up expecting that others will learn and respect their name, and therefore, their personhood. One of the most important words to a young child is one's name and the names of loved ones. Our names are special and have power, chosen with high hopes and which hold the dream of legacy. Through that lens, they are an intimate part of us that we share with the world. Knowing that, may we always say one another's names with the utmost care and respect.
My corner to start in is strewn with mispronunciations, but I know that my efforts were appreciated. Thank you to all of the people who have given me a chance to learn new names, like Mirj, Ngozi, Anais, Jyoti, Isidro, Sidsel, Abhilash, Liese, Loai, and Xiaofeng, to name just a few.
Though we may have different values and beliefs we all start our story in the same way, with a carefully chosen name that, when in alignment, we come to embody through living and becoming. We have a right to be addressed by the name we prefer.
For now, Amy Chiu is fine with me. It is an important piece of my story and my family's story. Please continue to correct me when I say your name incorrectly, and thank you for extending grace if I fall short at first. I want to meet you where you are.
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