Yes, I'm mulling over it, too. I've been contemplating a name change for several years now and did take on an Islamic name. Everyone still called me by my "given" but I had an Islamic one already picked out. Sumeia seemed perfect at the time because I could always break it up; Su Mei, Sume, Mei. I really didn't want to have an Arabic-sounding name. Talk about confusion. It seemed like a good solution at the time. So for years, I went through life with the intention of legally taking that name. I'm not satisfied with it now. People either think it's Japanese or Chinese. I'm being ethnically incorrect again. Damn!
My "real" name really isn't that bad as long as I never mention my last name. It's a dead give away that somewhere along the line, my ethnic wires were crossed. I'm not really sure what compels me in this direction. Resistance? Reclamation of my identity and heritage? It's probably all of those along with the fact that it just feels right. I agonized over how my aparents would feel, debated with myself over its importance, struggled with feelings of betrayal and came to the conclusion that it's just something I have to do. I need to return that part of me to its rightful place. I really think that, in the end, my parents would understand my decision.
I'm still trying to decide whether or not to take the name from my adoption papers. My indecision stems from reasons similar to those pointed out by those strong souls who went before me. The horrible thing is that I'm not sure if I even like the name that's on my adoption papers. Yes, I'm terrible. I don't really like the way it sounds when I say it out loud. It feels strange on my tongue like eating a new Vietnamese dish for the first time. I wiggle it around on my tongue, play with the sounds, chew on its strange texture and then debate on whether to spit it out or swallow it.
The really strange thing is the fact that I can't stand my own Vietnamese name makes me want to embrace in defiance. The fact that I can't even pronounce it properly, screams of loss and disconnect. Le Thi Buu Tran is more than just a collection of letters and sounds. In a way, it represents all the culture and language, all the heritage and pride in that heritage that was ripped away without my consent.
Yet, I am still indecisive and have begun researching my "ethnic" name. I also want to make sure it has a meaning (if it has a meaning) that I can live with. I think my worst fear is that I'd legally change my name and it end up meaning "donkey on a stick" or something I'd regret. It's not likely but I'd rather be safe than sorry. I guess this one will have to go under "to be continued" but that is much more preferable than a dead end.
HA. Well, I have a feeling your name won’t turn out to mean “donkey on a stick,” or anything having to do with impaled animals. But I know what you mean…
I’ve gone over and over the name thing, too, as you know. So I am intimately familiar with the love-hate relationship you describe with reclaiming your “ethnic” name. It took me a long time to embrace my Korean name — a long time of trying it on for size informally, and only in certain situations before I could set it loose and let it take over me, get under my skin. I think when you finally strike a comfortable zone in your name quest, you’ll just know.
I’ve changed my name twice in my life. The first time was easy. My birth surname was Hoare. No explanation needed, really. I became Anderson. Both my brothers have changed their names, too.
The second time was done in secret – only my spouse new I was converting to Islam, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it, in case they disapproved. So I looked in the Qur’an, and made my new name a version of Yusuf Islam, the only convert I had ever heard of. I didn’t realise I also needed to say the shahadah to also be a Muslim, until my first visit to mosque!
Wasalaam
TMA
I wish you luck with this decision.
I agonize all the time over whether we chose the best name for DD. We basically did what so many other parents of Chinese adoptees did. We gave her an traditional American first and middle name, followed by her Chinese first name. Her Chinese last name (which is almost always the name of the orphanage) was dropped. We call her both Anna, and occasionally, XinXing.
I think all parents in this situation really have to accept that their kids are entitled to choose their own names.
margaret
A person goes through many names in their lifetime.
The name they’re born with. The names others call them. The names they tell others to call them, and the name they call themselves when no one is looking. And in some beliefs, the name the divine calls you. In my experience, rarely all they all truly the same.
Artist names, screen-names, wedding names, maiden names, legal names, nick-names and numbers. A dozen you go through. All of them you answer to.
You could look at Madonna, or you could look at Picasso. His full name was Pablo Diego José Santiago Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno Crispín Crispiniano de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Ruiz Picasso. Or the Artist formerly known as formerly known as Prince.
It’s probably just my perspective, but we of all people should understand, and come to terms with fluidity of identity, embrace the transience of designation. As the poet said, we are but names writ on water.
To believe any one word, or a set of words absolutely encapsulates our experience and our identities, to expect another to instantly see it, nod and say, “Yes, I understand,” is an exercise in futility.
Practically speaking, I’ve gone through many changes in my name- but never really changed my legal name. Within the current political climate, I raise enough red-flags as it is, but more to the point, it’s my particular experience as a transcultural adoptee that may or may not serve as a cautionary tale.
The reality is, in my journey of discovering who I was, I found even today, everything I think I knew about myself can get ripped away from me in a moment, even when I think I’ve found all the answers.
The transliteration of the name is wrong. Family name, personal names switched, etc. What you think is one thing is not. I’m not going to go into it in public today, but I’ll just say that no one should be certain of anything they’ve been told of their past.
It sounds wonderful to reclaim your birth name, and to try to live within it sometimes: Hear the lion awaken, see the child roar with consciousness of who they truly are at last.
But for many of us, such absolutes are in fact idealized abstractions and our heartbreak all the greater should those be shown later to hold less truth than we’d imagined.
I don’t know if this is much of a help, but I know you will make the choice that is right for you, as has always been within your power. Good luck, and no matter what you choose, we’ll respect that decision!
Sume,
If you wish, I would be happy to assist you with the South Vietnamese pronunciation of the name on your adoption papers. Feel free to email me either a transcription, including its diacritical marks, or a clear enough picture / photograph and I’ll give it a red-hot go (via asking my family members
)
Also, which is the family name? Were the papers prepared in VN or US?: because both the names that appear first and last in the name on your adoption papers are common Viet family names.
Sometimes, Viet names mean lots of things depending upon what they are paired with. My given name – the one I identify myself with and to others by – is almost meaningless without a paired other name, which my parents chose not to give me.
Best of luck with your name quest.
Just wanted to say from one a-parent’s point of view that I really understand how important a name that reflects your ethnic identity is. This subject has come up at our house, and my husband and I have casually said that if they would like to change to their Korean surnames, now or in the future, that we would support them and help make that happen. I say we discussed it “casually” because I also don’t want them to think that we don’t want them to have the same name as us – we just want them to know they have the right to choose how they want to be known. Good luck as you seek your name.
JL’s name confounds Americans and connects her to people of Indian origin. I lean toward appreciating the latter and teaching the former how to say it, usually by spelling it out. Over and over. For awhile she was introducing herself by spelling her name rather than saying it because no one could understand her baby tongue, even Indians were having trouble.
Now she likes to play with it and change emphasis on varying syllables at times, and she messes with native English speakers by making them feel bad if they don’t put the right emphasis on the syllable-of-the-day. Talk about taking your power over your name!
PJ had a birth name before he was adopted and renamed. It has been deposited in one of JL’s favorite dolls for safekeeping.
We have been to name-change court twice, once for PJ’s transition and once for our hyphenated married name, which we both took. We got the same referee both times and he remembered us and joked with us that if we ever had another $150, and felt liike changing our names again, we could come to him. I really hope we get him when we change our last name for the LAST TIME, to release our kids from the burden of hyphenation of anglo names. Our new name still sounds anglo but has a Hebrew translation and contains all but one letter from our hyphenated names.
I hated the sound of my husband’s and my hyphenation for a long time, and felt awkward saying it, and annoyed having to spell two names that are not easily transliterated. It is still a major PITA to figure out where in the alphabet someone put us. But gradually the name grew on me and I will be a little sad to give it up.
We are giving up names attached to two bloodlines that are being continued by relatives in a much more traditional, genetic fashion than we can pull off. Fortunately no parental egos will be harmed, since the parents whose names we hyphenated are all dead.
It’s complex, but maybe the nugget of what I am offering is that if you claim your birth name, I strongly suspect it will grow on you until it feels like who you are.
One more name change story. When we were in court for one of our name changes, there was an Asian (I believe Laotian) dude who was changing his name back from an American name he took when immigrating to the US (that sounded like a country singer) to the name he was given at birth. He was very honest with the judge about why. He said that he thought getting an American name would help him, but that he was now ashamed of giving up his identity and wanted it back. Deep, huh?
PS I think I have to spit out some cookies. I can’t get your blog to recognize my new blog address which is http://mylifepostponed.wordpress.com
Thanks all!
Ji-in, it's a strange process, backwards and forwards, this way and that. You'd think we'd be use to it by now.
Salaam TMA, don't feel bad. I said the shahada but no one bothered to tell me what it was. When they asked me if I'd said it, I'd told them no. I said it again just to make sure.
Thanks Bryan, fluidity is something I'm learning to accept despite my constant attempts to find anchors. What other choice do we have as adoptees?
Maybe, I'm just being rebellious. At this point, it's become more about "choice" with me. Many adoptees weren't given the the luxury of choice when it came to changing our names. I know it's not an end-all solution to identity, and may offer no resolution at all. What it FEELS like, is a step towards becoming the person I chose to be. An assertion of control? Perhaps it's that too, but I have to laugh at that one. Like anyone really has that anyway.
But who knows? I waffle on this daily.
Oanh, THANK YOU! I'll be firing an email your way! Fatima told me the same thing. There could or could not be a lot of meaning in a Vietnamese name. When she broke it down for me, I was blown away. My adoption papers were done in Vietnam and I have a copy in Vietnamese.
Margie, I guess it's that balance thing again and letting them know that they have a choice. Ahhh, there's that word again.
Sue, I know people who "Americanize" their Arab names thinking it will somehow make their lives easier. Stamping "orange" on a "banana" doesn't make it an orange. Okay, bad example, but you know what I mean. I haven't decided yet and who knows what I'll be calling myself from one day to the next. I'm kind of waiting for the dust to settle.
I'm not sure what's going on with the addy. Let me know if it's still a problem. WordPress has been acting up lately. The other day, my sidebar looked like it'd been organized by a gorilla.
Hi Sume you can delete this comment. I succeeded in getting out of the old settings by tossing my browser’s cookies. It wasn’t as messy as it sounds.
salaam sume
yep I wish I could have found the meaning. Inshallah I’ll be hunting in August when I come home but let me know if Oanh finds it first. If you really think the people in the orphanage just slapped that name on you, you could always select a VN name of your choice. But I think Buu Tran sounds pretty
In English your name will be Buu Tran Thi Le. So that means you could be Buu, or Buu Tran to whoever says your name, or if you like, maybe Tran. So it seems you have a lot of choice at least 
It’s alright, Sue, I’m glad you figured it out.
Wa Salaam, Fatima. Thank you so much. Given the *cough stories that I’ve been told, I’m not sure one way or the other how I came by the name. I don’t think it matters much as far as whether I choose to take it…or not, but who knows?
I like the way it sounds better when you put it that way. I have no idea why.
I’m thinking of taking an “Islamic” name, but not really for Islamic reasons. (besides, what’s an Islamic name anyways, really? Hesham Hassaballa had an interesting post on the topic: http://drhassaballa.blogspot.com/2006/05/new-faith-new-name.html) My name has a good meaning and i know i don’t have to change it, and i won’t. But i might take an “Islamic” nickname to use while traveling. While my name is perfectly fine here in the States, it goes over a bit differently in countries that have been exposed more to British English than American English, and i don’t want to get made fun of. And my middle name means something rather nasty in Farsi, so i’m thinking of substituting an Islamic name for my middle name, and going by that name when i travel, or whenever i decide i want to. I’ve been toying with a name for awhile, but haven’t really decided for sure yet.
Sume -
We are having issues with gmail
Once we’ve sorted them out… I’ll get onto it!
And don’t worry about taking a while (I can see the beginning of your email!) – you know how slow I am!
((Sume))
I was thinking of you, and your curiosity of what your name meant. I did a search for an equivalent of Babelfish with Vietnamese – English translation. I found this: http://www.ksvn.com/anhviet_new.htm . It can also do English to Vietnamese translation. In both, you have to use one word at a time. I won’t tell you what it means, I’ll leave it up to you to decide if you want to find out.