My name is Elisa. It's spelled E-L-I-S-A. It's pronounced Eh-lee-sah. It's not Alyssa, nor does it sound like Eliza, and it's not short for Elizabeth or anything else. Stop trying to change it.
I've always thought I had an easy name to live with. Sure, I have two last names and everyone is convinced that one of them is a middle name, but that's not the case with my first name. It's three syllables, five letters, and a simple name to say if you stop and listen to how I say it.
Over the phone, I'll repeat myself five or six times because people think I'm saying "Ednicia." How? I have no clue. But I've let it slide so many times because I've always thought it was more work to correct them. But then they continue butchering the name, pulling letters and sounds that don't belong out of thin air, then trying to match my name to my face when we meet.
I have a name tag at my job with my name laid out for all to see. I can tell you that 7 out of 10 people make a face when trying to pronounce my name. It's almost insulting. They squint and furrow their brows, trying to find a similar sounding name in their head that they can pin to me. But 7 out of 10 times they're wrong, and I'll correct them, but they won't remember the next time that we meet up.
I'm aware that I speak quickly, and when going over or reciting something I have to say every day, it comes out like rapid fire. But I have to pause and speak slowly and clearly when saying my name, in the hopes that if people can retain any information, it's my name.
When I was younger, everyone could say my name right. Maybe it was the school I went to, the Hispanic influence that made the pronunciation that much easier, but those kids never got it wrong. It was those outside of school, the friends of my parents or the friends of my siblings that struggled to understand the simple name I was given. I received birthday cards with the name "Elissa" or "Alicia," always asking myself if it was meant for me.
Now, I've grown tired of those names. I'm exhausted of just letting it slide by. I used to be embarrassed and ashamed when someone would repeatedly say my name incorrectly, because - well how could you? I've introduced myself, clear as day, and even jokingly spoken in the third person so you could hear my name roll off my tongue, yet you've blocked it out and continued to slaughter my name. Ignorance is bliss, huh?
The name was given to me by my parents. The name printed on my birth certificate. The name shouted in the hallways of my youth. The name I will keep and cherish forever because I can still hear my grandmother saying it. The name that I will not allow anyone to change.
I will fight for my name. I will keep repeating it and spelling it out for those that refuse to know it. My name is Elisa, spelled E-L-I-S-A, pronounced Eh-lee-sah. Learn it before you try to speak to me.
