Say My Name, Say My Name

Hay-on (I named her Lola) and Hyunu (My coworker named him Hayden)

Today I'm in Korea, working in a restaurant (as a side job) owned by a Canadian. I'm having a conversation with a Korean man, who calls himself John. John is his English name. He's lived in and has worked in Canada for several years going by the name of John. He's a chef. There's another chef, his name is Procass. I think, I hope, I'm pretty sure. He's from Nepal. The three of us stand, behind the bar, no customers at the moment.. speaking to each other in English. This of course is normal for me. But English isn't John's nor Procass's first language. Yet, here we speak in English. To converse with people and to watch people be capable of having a conversation with each other in a language that's not their own. The English language. Something I've probably taken for granted and never realized. Something so easy for me but so difficult for other people. It's absolutely mind-bogglingly magnificent. And we tell jokes. And we all understand them. And we laugh together, and complain together. In English. And it is absolutely crazy.

Another story like this is my Korean co-worker, Emily. I don't know her real name. She goes by Emily in all of the settings I've ever been a part of. And another coworker, Nancy. Nancy has a real name that she's told me. But she's from China and I cannot for the life of me pronounce her real name so I call her Nancy because that's what she's given herself as an "English name." Nancy cannot speak Korean and Emily cannot speak Chinese. And neither of them can speak fluent English in the slightest. But their only way of communication happens to be in a language that may be universal, but is also difficult for the both of them. So everyday, for the past few months, my days have been brightened by watching these two grown woman communicate in broken English. They both have this strong desire to improve their English. I tell them to talk to me and ask me any questions they may have but they tell me they're 'nervous' or 'embarrassed.' So they talk amongst each other and have become the greatest of friends. And me, I watch from a distance, smiling.

This leads me to all of my Kindergarten kids going by 'English names.' "English names" are the strangest of things, ya know. You would never know, really. In Korea, people are called by their full names. Last name - first name. 'Seo Hyunsu,' 'Yu Ci Won,' 'Pak Ju Hyeon.' These are names. Names that I first found baffling, confused how to pronounce. Names that I have to write in Korean in order to understand how the spelling translates to English. Names that I've come to love and appreciate. My students have names. Names their parents have given them. They come to "English school" and create "English names." I just don't know how I feel about it. Their names suit them, ya know. I know this one boy, Minjoon.. he recently gave himself an English name of "William." I call him Minjoon and he's like "No teacher, William." And I'm like "But your name is Minjoon." And he says "But my English name is William."

The first school I worked at was before I understood the Korean language. And even at that, I was never informed of the child's real Korean name. We were an 'English school' so we went by 'English names.' And I never thought anything of it. Now, at my new school, I've learned both the English and Korean names of all of my students --- mainly because my schedule is written in Korean and I had no other choice but to learn Korean so I could know my schedule. I use a combination of both names for the kids - like as if their English name is their nickname, which is exactly what it actually is. It's just weird. They answer to both their English name and of course, their real name. They even have Chinese names and they answer to those too. Lil' geniuses, I'll tell ya.