“What's in a name? that which we call a rose/By any other name would smell as sweet.” - William Shakespeare
Juliet says this to Romeo to reassure him that it does not matter to her if he is a Montague. She says the name he bears does not change who he is and ultimately, does not change her love for him. After all, a name is just a name.
But is a name really just a name?
When I was younger, I really disliked my name. I hated how it sounded, the “L” sound being too difficult for my lisping toddler friends while also being too difficult for the Chinese aunties and uncles at church to pronounce. I also disliked how my name was so easily misspelled, with teachers and friends alike referring to the more popular spelling of “Lillian” with the double “L.”
Then sometime in elementary school, I was assigned a project about finding out why our parents had chosen our names. So that day, I went home and asked my mother why I was named “Lilian,” especially since this name had brought me such dissatisfaction over the years.
I learned that my birth name, 王丽莲 (Wang Li Lian) was chosen for two main reasons:
- The Chinese characters mean beautiful (丽) lotus flower (莲), and my parents hoped for their little girl to grow up to resemble a beautiful lotus flower. My mother explained to me that lotus flowers grow in murky swamps and so they are seen as a beacon of purity and beauty in a seemingly dark, ugly place. Similarly, she hoped that I could grow up to bring purity and beauty to a dark world.
- Since I would be growing up in America, my parents wanted to give me a name that would be easy to pronounce in English. They did not want me to be seen as different, with a name that could easily be pinpointed as “foreign” and “un-American.” 丽莲 (Li Lian) easily becomes Lilian, a common enough American name that no one would guess it was actually my Chinese name. Of course, they did not foresee that spelling would become an issue, as they did not know that though “Lilian” was indeed an American name, it had two spellings. Unfortunately, the one they chose for me was the less popular one.
That day, I realized that names, especially ethnic names, carry more meaning that I ever imagined.
Names are chosen with care. When a child is born and given a name, there is thought that goes into choosing that name. The meaning of the name conveys a sense of hope for the child, and is a way for the parents to prepare the child for the world ahead.
Names have power. The way you carry your name tells the world something about you and about where you come from. You must show the world how your name rolls off your tongue in the way it is meant to be pronounced and show them how to spell it the way it should be spelled. And when the world carelessly butchers the pronunciation or spelling, ignoring the cultural significance and meaning that every letter holds, you have the responsibility and power to speak out about it. Carry your name proudly because it has a flavor and color that is unique to you and there is no reason you should ever be ashamed of that.
So perhaps a rose, if called anything else, would still smell as sweet and bloom as beautifully. However, I think by virtue of a rose being called a rose, there are automatically scents and visuals attributed to it, giving its name meaning and value. Similarly, if I were referred to as “Lillian,” some would argue it does not matter since I am still the person I am, regardless of the label. However, I would argue that it does matter; names hold power and meaning, and even one extra letter can erase the story behind the name and the thought and care it took to choose it.
Though I am grateful for my parents for insisting on giving me an “American” name to protect me from possible alienation, I hope that one day that fear will no longer be necessary. I hope that I, along with my fellow American ethnic-name-bearing friends will not have to feel ashamed of carrying a name different from what mainstream America deems “American.” We should be able to say that our names are American because we are American.
When I am mistakenly addressed as “Lillian,” I cannot just bite my tongue and brush it off as I have countless times before. I should gently but firmly correct the mistake, because I deserve to be addressed by the name I so proudly carry.
My name is 丽莲 and that’s Lilian with one ‘L.’
