Hey friends, another long absence from blogging - this adulting thing is hard af, but enough about the endless struggle and onto something I feel a lot of us can relate to (if not ourselves, then someone we know surely).
Recently I read an article that a family member of mine shared on Facebook, about the difference between Māori and Pākeha names, and this got me thinking about the feelings and struggles I’ve faced as someone with a rather, shall we say, unique name.
Those who know me and my immediate family will know that all of us (bar maybe one or two) have unique names. Some of these are still more common than mine - but that’s a story for another time. I often joke to my friends that “we’re the family with strange names”, and while it’s something I've used to diffuse the fact that my name is one most people won’t come across in their lifetime, it’s also something I felt incredibly insecure about for a long time - and is one of the main reasons I was picked on when I was younger.
All the “teaching moments” and explaining that “no, my parents aren’t Latin speakers” sometimes became too much for me to handle (particular when I was at school) - so I shortened my name in a feeble attempt to be more accepted in society. While the majority of daily life was a lot easier with the shortening of my name, it also had its moments of shame and guilt.
I had a lot of older people (once they had found out Tessa isn’t actually my ‘given’ name) actually tell me that I was being disrespectful to my parents because I insisted people shorten my name instead of putting both me and them through the awkwardness of trying to pronounce something they clearly haven’t seen before.
Oh, I’m sorry - but the fact that people mispronounce my name every other day isn’t something I necessarily want to live with, so I change the name to suit other people so I don’t have to keep explaining myself every other hour of the day.
Excuse you, fellow human, but you have no idea what it’s like to have people who constantly mispronounce something I know I’ve corrected them on many times previously. To have to grit your teeth as someone butchers the sound that’s meant to empower you the most because it’s your own. To have to physically hold yourself back from yanking the offending person by the shoulders and shaking some sense into them whilst screaming the ‘correct’ pronunciation at them.
This is something I’ve talked about and had many a panic attack over for a long time - and I often wished my parents just gave me something ‘normal’ so I wouldn’t have to carry the burden of having to explain myself constantly. Over the years, I’ve found the joy in the particularity of my name, and have used this as something to think of when life is getting me down.
As well as my name being butchered beyond recognition in the spoken realm, I’ve also had it in the written realm too - and while I’ve always enjoyed the written language (as you can tell), that as well used to bug me to no end because I always hated the way other people mangled it to suit them.
I swear sometimes it looks like someone’s just smashed the keyboard in frustration over the very thought of having to write such a ‘difficult’ name.
Like no, use the letters you were given - don’t try to insert other ones in there because you think my name could use some more...
While I live with the constant struggles of making my name more “accessible” to people - I’ve learnt to love it and appreciate the meaning it carries. As much as the burdens get me down some days, I realise I wouldn’t be me without it.
Every name tells a story, even the most basic ones (in my opinion) - and I especially love the ones which are a little more complex in origin, particularly those of cultural significance. The article I read was discussing the differences in names (and how they’re used) the Māori and Pākeha world.
One thing I definitely observed whilst reading the article was the way both names were described as.
The Māori name was described as one with more of a story, or significant journey one has embarked on in their lifetime. The Pākeha one, however, was one that had more of a function or a purpose attached to it.
I definitely agree with this sentiment - because I have personally witnessed statements that have been made by outsiders about even the simplest of Māori names. People have often said “wow, that’s a beautiful name”, and while it is true, I find it a little baffling that a person’s name has suddenly gained physical attributes, or enough of a character to be described in such a way.
I’ve also, never in my almost twenty-four years of life, never heard such a sentiment expressed about any “basic” Pākeha name (surely you can think of an example). I don’t hear anyone correcting people on their pronunciation, and while there are many different spellings of the same name, the amount of corrections people have made for a Pākeha name is far less than those for a Māori name.
The point of this long-winded drivel (it’s alright, you’re nearly at the end!) is that the name we’ve been given is obviously a part of us, and perhaps we should all make more of an effort to pronounce them correctly, or even ask them what they prefer (if it’s one you’ve not heard before) - you never know, they may even thank you for thinking of that before they’ve had to!
Until next time, stay tuned, friends!
Tessa.
PS - here’s the link to the article I’ve talked about, in case you’re interested :)
https://www.nzgeo.com/stories/a-flash-of-fire/?source=footerWhat
