The Power of Names

By Devna Panda with art by alex kozak

I have always felt conflicted between two different personalities– the one I take on with my family and the one I adopt in a school environment. These feelings of conflict are the reason I have always felt somewhat embarrassed about my name. I am so jealous of people who are able to maintain the same persona around everyone. And I often wonder if these are the people who have the ease of living in a world where Anglicized names are expected and accepted. 

While growing up, my name always brought up feelings of discomfort for me. Ordinary occurrences, such as introducing myself to someone or having a substitute teacher, became events that filled me with dread as I nervously anticipated having to correct someone after they inevitably mispronounced my name. To this day, I hate seeing the raised eyebrows and looks of confusion people occasionally give me. As the daughter of immigrants, it was already challenging to identify with other kids while growing up. I experienced life differently than they did—instead of going to baseball games or eating meatloaf for dinner, I watched my dad obsess over the Indian Premier League and ate dal bhat regularly. Having an ethnic name further distinguished me as “other”. The knowledge that, perhaps my peers perceived me this way as well, made me feel that I had to represent an ethnic group and culture that I was honestly no expert on. Given people’s pre-existing notions about Indian culture, I often found myself disingenuously adjusting the sharing of my culture to cater to others’ expectations. Feeling an aversion to my name weakened my sense of self, making me feel unusual at times. I felt like a trapeze artist, analyzing my own movements as I carefully toed a tightrope while on display for an audience.

Although names are discussed as being of an arbitrary value (Shakespeare said it well), I think they carry a strong association with identity. The significance of assigning a name is designating a specific perception of that object or phenomenon. I was always so envious of people whose names have connotations—Maddie or Sarah. In my mind, Sarah seems to be the name of a girl who wears floral skirts. Girls named Maddie played soccer growing up and drank SunnyDs. My name, on the other hand, has no connotation. I did not know how to take ownership of something that did not remind me of anything else. My name didn’t seem to provide me with any sort of blueprint as to what type of personality I should adopt.

And yet I am starting to wonder if this may be a blessing. Even in the context of Indian names, my name is somewhat uncommon. In the lives of almost everyone I know, I may very well be the only Devna they ever meet. In a moment of uncharacteristic piety, my parents chose my name because of its meaning: godly. In doing so, they wished a certain type of persona on me—devoted and believing. Whether or not they were successful, this intent is not lost on me. It was the first gift I received from them in what has become a lifetime of receiving. Whenever I feel an aversion toward my name, their facial expressions when I badmouth my name comes to mind. I can handle a million incorrect pronunciations if it means not causing that expression again.

If I had been given a more common name, I would likely have an easier time when meeting people, but it is also true that I would not have the appreciation for and sensitivity towards other unique names that I am incredibly grateful to have. Moreover, my name has blessed me with the ability to have a steadfast commonality with other South-Asian American adolescents who have had similar experiences. Though I sometimes forget, my name’s connection to my culture and the intent behind it is one that I am beyond thankful for. 

For those of us whose names don’t have connotations in the Western world, consider it as an opportunity to proudly represent the cultural connection your name signifies. Though I still struggle with my name and its connection to my identity, I am working to solidify a paradigm shift—being proud of having a culture unique from that of the majority. 

Wake Mag