Week 3: Origins and cultural identity— what’s in a name?
Preferred name: G̶w̶e̶n̶ Wen Xin
Setting up a bank account after arriving in Singapore, I was pleasantly surprised to see my name automatically entered as “Low Wen Xin” , and not “first name Wen middle name Xin last name Low” or “Wenxin Low” or “Wen-Xin Low”… or some other form of it.
Born and raised in Malaysia, my ancestors originated from Guangdong province, China and immigrated to Malaysia (then Malaya) during the British ruling in the 1920s. Growing up, I’ve never encountered issues with my name (apart from the different pronunciations I’d get, living in a multi-racial society), and I took that for granted.
When I moved to Melbourne for my undergraduate studies, I was suddenly “Wen”. The shy, conflict-avoiding introvert in me thought- “It’s okay, it’s just a name” and despite feeling bothered that others got it wrong, I never corrected them. Later, when I was offered the option of nominating one, I started using “Gwen” as my preferred name; to make it easier for others, and also so that I could escape the discomfort of being called “Wen”.
It took me 3 years to realise that there is more to a name than just words and letters. I now understand that my name is a representation of my heritage, my culture, and (most importantly) the love and well wishes from my family.
My grandfather chose my Chinese name, 雯欣 (wén xīn), considering my date and time of birth and the 5 elements in Chinese philosophy, hence accounting for the elements that were lacking in me (the belief is that for an individual to be healthy, the elements within them must be balanced). Apart from that, the Chinese characters of my name represent happiness, wisdom, and resilience — values my elders had hoped for me to possess in life.
As an Asian migrant in an Anglo-Australian culture, my name brought more inconvenience than it should have. For example, it took a month and multiple calls to the Australian Immunisation Register and trips to the physical service center to correct my name and link my vaccine history to the “correct” name, just to obtain a proof of vaccination. Maybe it was the price to pay for living in a country in which you’re not a citizen of, but it should have been easier.
I don’t think we do it on purpose, not getting others’ names right. But as societies become increasingly diverse, I envision a place where everyone can wear their names as a badge of their (cultural) identity, regardless of where they are in the world. And I trust that can be achieved if we made a conscious effort to ask and to correct when dealing with unfamiliar names.
“I’m sorry, that’s a little hard for me. How would you like me to say your name?”
After all, our name is the first thing we were gifted with at birth, isn’t it?
Week 2: Equanimity. Be water, my friend
