Naming Ourselves

So, apparently there was a Twitter query – what is your Southern Governor name in honor of Bobby Jindal and Nikki Haley.

I don’t want to get into the politics and where they stand on issues. However, it’s a tough path they’ve chosen being persons of color within a predominantly white, Christian political atmosphere. They are too brown for the mainstream, while too white for their own. On the other hand, we do need to cut them some slack on the name thing. Even if they are practicing Christians, their birth names reveal too much. Your name is what it is, even if you are practicing another religion, not the default by your name. Ask Barack Hussain Obama how that’s that worked out when there’s a large percentage of ignorant Americans who believe he’s Muslim.  

As for Bobby and Nikki, I get it. It’s important to acknowledge, Indians love nicknames. The child may not have a proper name for days or weeks after birth, but they’ve got a nickname. It may be a dissection of the real name or their status in the family (Chotu for the youngest) or just a random adjective. Typically, it ends in “y” or “u.” There are communities that are known for having grown men called “Sweetu” and “Babu” and grown women still called “Baby.” For the generation growing up in US, the chosen nickname will be more anglicized. There are names like Bobby, Kenny, Vicky, Pinky, Patty, etc. As new immigrants, people will change Rajesh to Roger or Mahesh to Mike. I wanted to point out that Bobby Jindal is not the first brown Bobby. I remember a bunch of Bob’s in college who had totally different Indian names, but Bob or Bobby worked well enough as an alias.

So, here’s my confession. One of my jobs in college was a telemarketer doing surveys and sales. When I started this, I introduced myself as Ashini, I’m calling for a survey, etc. However, this was a distraction and derailed the purpose of the call. “Who? A she what? How do you spell it?” These questions would be on top of the usual “why are you calling me?” 

Then, managers clarified for us, “You must say a name, but it doesn’t have to be yours,” we got an out! My friend with the long Polish last name introduced herself Rebecca Howe. Her last name had 12 characters and 4 letters was appealing.(Yes, she copied the “Cheers” character and if someone called her on it, she complained “Yes, yes, I get that all the time.”). 

Anyway, I chose Ashley James, using the first syllables of my name. I found out how easy it was to get through the intro on the call. And, people would say “Well, Ashley, we’ll have to say.. blah blah” It took me a while to get used to that. A funny moment came when I was calling my college office and I had to pause because I started saying “Hi, my name is Ashley James.”

There! I chose a different name because it made my job a lot easier to handle. So, I do get that Bobby and Nikki have to do what they have to do. By the way, this was the only time I made an exception because everyone calls me by my full Indian name. I don’t want to be Ashley. I am not Ashwini. My Polish friend actually taught me this on our first meeting. “If you want to be my friend, you have to spell my name right.” I can still spell it. When people care enough, they will say and spell your name. 

By the way, everyone asks me about my name since it’s unusual, even in Indian circles. Asha is the Hindi word for Hope. Therefore, my name is a mix of Asha+ Ni, which means one with hope. However, my mom said it was a "fulfilled wish" because right after I was born my father got a call for his US visa interview. He left for the US in September, just 2 months later. 

Next scene is modern day Starbucks. After taking my order, the barista asks me for my name. When I say Ashini, I need to spell it out 2 or 3 times and again. Then, I started using my husband’s nickname of “Sandy.” So, I regularly used Sandy, since I am used to hearing for it. On a business trip, I almost gave Sandy, but realized he is not here. All of a sudden, I came up with AJ, my initials pre-marriage. It hit me – that is me. It's my latte, not anyone else's.

After going through my name analysis, I decided I'm going to use Hope on my coffee orders. It’s still me.   By the way, I can’t escape from my Indian nickname Ashu (note it ends in U).