Making a name for yourself starts with your name

My grandpa gave me my Korean name, Paik Injun, but that’s not my name. I’m Shawn. No disrespect, Gramps.

When he was a teenager, my grandfather left his home in Korea to work in Manchuria. There, he changed his name to Paik Rin, meaning white giraffe. Ever since I heard that story, I’ve been fascinated by the fact that he just one day up and changed his name.

Thinking about it, a name is so elementary, so foundational. It’s a label, a first impression, a gift.

Whoever said you don’t get to choose your name? That’s something people need to wear proudly.

I don’t connect to the name my grandpa gave me. Nobody ever called me that.

I connect to the fact that he changed it. When I was 18 in Chinese class, we had to come up with our own names. I already knew my surname, 白, pronounced Bái, meaning white. My given name wasn’t hard to find either; the character 山, pronounced Shān means mountain. I was ready to lose my old Korean name and became Baek San.

My 14-year-old sister hates her given name, Lexie. To her it sounds too Southern. We grew up in Tennessee and a family friend named Lexi White, who also happened to be crowned Miss East Tennessee 2015. My sister would never be in a pageant.

She finds beauty in other ways and prefers her Korean name, Nayoon, because it’s prettier to her.

When she turns 18, Lexie will officially become Nayoon.

The whole idea of names is so interesting to me. In many ways, we don’t get to pick them. But we shouldn’t be afraid of changing them, and there are so many reasons to, especially as Asian Americans.

A name is a label, packed with history and meaning. It identifies us as people. Too often Asian Americans are perceived as passive, quiet, voiceless.
To some degree, it makes sense. I’ve seen so many young Asians simply accept when someone mispronounces their name. Some might even apologize. If Asians are to stand up and lead different industries, it is imperative that we make that known in how we introduce ourselves.
Sure, some names are hard to pronounce, some sound weird. But that’s not our problem, it’s our name.