Recently when I was scrolling my life away on Instagram I came across a very striking post. The post was a collage of red and white “Hello my name is…” badges, but here is what got me. The badges read, “Hello my name is…Not That Hard To Pronounce”, and I thought it was brilliant. Instagram user Pranavi Suthagar who runs the page: not_sari, makes many of these Pro-South Asian images and enamel pins varying from these nifty little badges to chai cups that read “chai or die”.

My name is Ketaki and if I could buy out enough of these badge pins and hand them out to everyone that I thought would need them I would probably have to sell my car, or my kidneys-probably the latter because the former actually belongs to my dad. Over the years I have been the humble recipient of many variations of my actual name. For those in doubt, it is correctly pronounced: Kae-tha-key, and I mean my name, personally-there might be other Ketakis out there that pronounce it differently so I do not want to speak on their behalf. I do want to speak on the behalf of people like myself who went through years of being called nicknames such as, “K”, “Taki”, “KitKat”, and my personal favorite-“Kentucky”. In fact, throughout elementary school I was called Kentucky so many times I was starting to see myself transforming into the Colonel himself. I’m a bit bitter about being called Kentucky, but the rest of these names I completely conformed to. If it meant that people would just call me a name without messing it up, I would take it. I was just sick and tired of repeating myself just to have people ignore my corrections. The thing is that even today when I introduce myself to people that are not South Asian I tend to pronounce my name as, “Ke-tah-ki.” A part of me asks my parents for forgiveness as I butcher the name they gave me in the hopes that other people will be able to easily pronounce my name.

I understand it though, my name, especially to people outside the Indian community is quite an anomaly, but sometimes I feel that that reason doesn’t serve as an excuse for changing the way it is pronounced. In the third grade my teacher gave me a chocolate bar in the beginning of the school year because I quote, “I’m sorry, I just can’t get your name right,” which was fine, it was a sweet gesture (pun entirely intended). However, that is what it came down to. My name was a minor inconvenience. At this point in my life there are just one too many people that know me by the Romanized version of my name, so much so that I tend to refer to myself as “Ke-tah-ki” more than “Kae-tha-key”. I’m not particularly proud of it, but life took its course and it was just one of the inconveniences that I found I could bury if I just swallowed my pride and accepted my fate. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t bother me. I’m bothered. Especially because I find this phenomenon is not just something that affects me.

Recently my friend had a beautiful baby boy, one with twinkling eyes who fought the odds, and they gave him a name suited for his journey. Sakthi-It means strength, and not a bit of him doesn’t deserve that name, but people were afraid. Would little Sakthi’s name be pronounced “Sack-thi” instead of “shak-thi”? Would he be teased and taunted because people refused to pronounce his name right? These were legitimate concerns before he was born, and perhaps if I had found the “Hello My Name Is…Not That Hard To Pronounce” pins earlier I would have made a banner out of them and used it as evidence as to “why we should not have to conform to western standards or Romanized and Anglicized languages when naming our children”-an original PowerPoint presentation by yours truly. I find many of my friends and peers, in the South Asian sphere and out, pronounce their names in ways that are easy to pronounce for English speakers. It isn’t necessarily a bad thing, especially because half of the time we as people don’t even attempt to introduce ourselves with the correct pronunciation, but the question still pops up, “why can’t people just say our names right?” Is it laziness? Is it ignorance? Is it because they have some sort of contract with Kentucky Fried Chicken? I’ll never really know, but what I do know is that my name is not that hard to pronounce. I learned how to pronounce the names Baryshnikov and Saoirse, so surely Sakthi and Ketaki shouldn’t be that hard to wrap around a tongue. It is a loose argument because life is not tit-for-tat, but it is a valid question.

I learned that names are not necessarily your identity, after all, you build up a character to define you more than just slapping a name on your forehead and calling it a day, but learning how to correctly pronounce a name is an act of consciousness. It is an act of care and appreciation. Calling me Ke-tah-ki does not bring me down as a person, nor does it change who I am, but calling me “Kae-tha-key” tells me that I matter enough for you to attempt to learn my name right. It’s a small detail in a very large scheme of life, but that tiny bit of effort makes a pretty big impact, especially if I have introduced myself to you in the correct pronunciation.

On a side note, to everyone reading this article that calls me Ketaki in the Romanized manner, I am not asking you all to change that. More than anything I am using my name as an example for the future. Teach people to embrace the diversity in names, and teach them to attempt to pronounce these names properly. It makes a difference. As the title states: Nicknames are fantastic, but they are not an excuse for not pronouncing someone's name properly.

A tremendous amount of gratitude towards Pranavi Suthagar. This article would not have been possible had I not stumbled upon her Instagram page. Please send all your support towards Pranavi, her artwork, and products. She is one of the many inspirational women that are striving to make a difference in the South Asian community, and her works are truly magnificent.

Go follow her on Instagram @not_sari