The Name I Couldn’t Quite Pronounce

One More Time: What’s Your Name?

We’ve settled in at our table, just me and this young girl from Afghanistan.

I have to ask her name again. I didn’t catch it the first time. Or the second time. Not even when the other adults pronounced it.

And honestly? Even as the girl tells me her name again for the third time—and I do my best to echo it back properly—I still don’t think I’m getting it right.

But she doesn’t correct me.

She just smiles and we go on, doing our best to understand each other.

Learning Each Other’s Language

She’s here at my table because her parents want her exposed to more English before school starts next fall. She already speaks some English, but it’s difficult for her.

I want her to practice reading to me. But the first book we open is too hard for her. She’s 7 years old, but she can’t read the book. Not in English anyway.

We switch to flash cards using the English alphabet. She doesn’t know the sounds of the letters. But she does know the names of each one. That’s something. Plus, she thinks it is fun.

Soon we finish the stack of cards. Now it’s time for reading again.

The Book She Chooses

I pick up a second book. I’ll just read it to her this time, then we can talk about it.

I read the title first. And I recognize this book. Even though the girl had picked it out herself among the other books on the table at the beginning of the hour, she couldn’t have understood the significance of it.

But I immediately get it.

And as I read this book to her now, my heart both warms and aches.

The book? Your Name Is a Song by Jamilah Thompkins-Bigelow.

It’s about a girl whose classmates and teacher can’t pronounce her name.

Saddened by this, the girl in the story walks home, vowing never to return to school again.

But the mother in the book turns it around. She teaches her daughter the beauty of names, including hers. She reminds her that names carry stories, histories, and love. She turns names into the beautiful music they are. The girl returns to school the next day to teach that message to others.

I finish reading this story to my new little Afghan friend, whose name I still can’t pronounce.

I doubt she sees the irony.

So I ask her name one more time. And this time, I also ask if she can write it on a piece of paper for me. She can and does.

I study it carefully and try pronouncing it again.

I still can’t say it exactly right.

But maybe I’m a little closer.

Names Matter

Most of us perk up when we hear our name. We’re pleased when someone remembers our name (and even more so if they pronounce a difficult name correctly). It helps us feel seen. That we are worth their attention.

I don’t get to meet the girl’s mother at the end of our session. I hope she is like the girl’s mother in the book. I hope she teaches her daughter the value of her beautiful name, her unique heritage, and this amazing journey she is on.

I’m grateful that, at least for this day, I get to be a witness to this portion of her journey.

I’ll remember it.

And even if I can’t pronounce her name properly, I’ll remember her. Maybe she’ll remember me as the one that kept trying.

Do people struggle to pronounce your name? How do you feel when someone remembers your name?

Share your thoughts in the comments.

revised from the archives

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