Have you ever shortened or Westernised your name to fit in?
“My name is Ashmitaa…But you can call me Ash'' has always been a key starter sentence for when I meet new people.
I do this to avoid both the looks of confusion and them absolutely butchering my fairly simple Indian name. It’s a challenge every ethnic kid growing up away from their home land experiences at least once, and for most of us, it starts at school and continues when we step into our workplaces. But why do we feel the need to shorten our name even as adults? It’s not like the people we meet tell us to shorten our names right?
A Monash University study found that job applicants with non-Western names received 57.4 per cent fewer callbacks for leadership roles in organisations.
This suggests that minorities with ethnic names face workplace discrimination, despite having identical resumes to their English-named counterparts.
But how is this fair? Australia today is a melting pot of cultures and our future leaders should be able to freely represent that without having to be stripped of their identity, like shortening or Westernising their name. Names are an important part of our identity as they carry elements of our culture, ancestry and provide us with a sense of who we are. They are embedded with more power than we believe.
Since I started working, I have developed the habit of introducing myself as “Ash” to people. In the past, I never thought too much about it but it was not until recently when I started thinking that maybe I do this because I feel as though my coworkers may find saying my full name burdensome.
This feeling dates all the way back to my schooling years when substitute teachers would take a long pause when my name was next in roll call. Most of the time I would cut in to spare them the embarrassment of butchering my first name with a “It’s Ash”. Over the years, my name has been shortened, butchered or completely changed and it was rarely “hey how do I pronounce your name?” or “do you prefer Ash or Ashmitaa?”.
Hearing all this from a young age caused me to naturally shorten my name when introducing myself to someone new and it’s still a habit I have today. I always sense the uncomfortable energy when I meet new colleagues in my workplace who don't know how to pronounce my name. So in an effort to make me stand out and also build rapport, I’d always just introduce myself with a shorter and “easier” version of my name.
This has made introducing myself way harder than it’s supposed to be, because do I tell them my full first name? Do I just tell them to call me “Ash”? Or perhaps I say both and give them the option to call me by either? Oh, the first-world problems of an ethnic child!
For years, we have tried to replicate Western mannerisms and risk being mocked by others just so we could fit in. This is commonly known as code-switching.
A 2022 Diversity Council of Australia (DCA) survey showed that Culturally and Racially Marginalised (CARM) Women would code-switch to get ahead and avoid being stereotyped as “compliant”, “timid” and “submissive” in the workplace.
As a South Asian and an aspiring journalist, I am grateful for the opportunities we get as minorities in Australia, especially through programs run by organisations like Media Diversity Australia. To be working in a diverse newsroom where I can share a space with successful journalists who look just like me is something I am forever grateful for.
Yet this isn’t the case for most South Asians alike as findings from DCA’s report shows that 69 per cent of CARM women felt that employers did not value their skills as a migrant and that it limits their career opportunities in Australia.
A further 66 per cent reported that they felt the need to “act white” to get ahead in their workplace. This could have long-term effects on ethnic individuals as they may feel displaced and eventually abandon their own culture - a process commonly known as cultural alienation.
Studying in a predominantly White school meant that I needed to pick up on certain behaviours and ditch my culture to fit in as well. I would ask my mum to pack me sandwiches and muesli bars like the other kids and when I’d bring more traditional home-cooked foods for lunch, I wouldn’t use the school microwave in fear that the scent would be too strong for my peers to handle.
Gone should be the days when young South Asians feel the need to fry their naturally beautiful curly locks with a straightener, throw away lunches hand-prepared by Amma or speak in a different accent, to blend in with society.
We need to see South Asian leaders and prove to the future generation that we are more than capable - even if we don’t have blonde hair and blue eyes.
South Asia’s obsession with fair skin and whitewashing has been an ongoing issue for years. It has gotten so bad to a point where those with darker skin tones and non-Eurocentric features are being labelled as “unattractive” and “poor”. So if we ourselves don’t start appreciating our rich culture and beautiful people, who will?
You know what they say, you’ve got to be the change you want to see, so as a personal goal, I want to work towards eliminating the “but you can call me Ash” from my introductions. I want to encourage people to call me by my full first name and instead of trying to fit in, why not stand out with my unique name?
Now this isn’t a dig at my current friends or co-workers who call me “Ash” and I’m not asking for them to desperately start referring to me by my full name, but I will admit that a little part of my heart blooms when others calls me “Ashmitaa”.
I shouldn’t feel the need to shorten my name for the convenience of others. Ashmitaa is a beautiful name, a representation of my Tamil heritage and a gift from my parents which I should carry with pride.
And so what if I can’t find my name on those souvenir keychains? It’s boring to be like everyone else anyway.
Ashmitaa Thiruselvam is a Monash journalism graduate who was born in Singapore and grew up in Melbourne. She says she strives to use her platform to give a voice to the voiceless. You can connect with her via Linkedin.
