Opetusmateriaalit: valmistava opetus

 Is your own name a matter of compromise? 

 

I have a name that few Finns can pronounce correctly the first time. Aayush. I believe the consecutive vowels and the pronunciation of the letter “y” make my name confusing to say. In primary school, one of my friends happened to come up with a nickname for me: Jussi. The names had a similar sound, and I liked the idea. It felt convenient, and the use of the nickname quickly spread among my friends. At some point, I even started introducing myself by that nickname. It was easier for everyone, and it helped me avoid that uncomfortable first moment when people did not know how to pronounce my name. 

Years later, however, I noticed something that stopped me. My close friends did not know how to spell or pronounce my real name. Not because they were indifferent, but simply because it had never become necessary. That was when I realized that I had created some kind of mask for myself, almost another version of who I was. My Nepalese identity and my roots there are part of me, and my name is a gateway that tells people who I truly am. I felt that without my real name, my friends did not have access to the real me. After that, I stopped using my nickname. 

Using a nickname is not wrong. Often, it is something that adds its own layer to a friendship. Sometimes a nickname can be almost necessary, especially if a name is long or if its sound structure is very different. Using a nickname is everyone’s own decision, and an outsider cannot judge it. In my opinion, however, the consequences of that decision are greater than they may first appear. That is why it deserves to be thought through properly, rather than chosen merely for the sake of convenience. 

There can also be other reasons behind using a nickname than convenience alone. A study published a year ago by the Ministry of Economic Affairs and Employment stated that simply having a foreign-origin name has a negative effect in the Finnish job market. According to studies, an applicant with the same qualifications is invited to an interview less often if their name sounds foreign. In this light, using a nickname or a Finnish version of one’s name is no longer just a question of convenience, but something that may finally place a person with an immigrant background on the same starting line as everyone else. It is a sad reality, although the study does state that the situation is changing for the better. Still, the phenomenon shows that a name can also carry prejudice with it. 

One’s own name is not just a name; it carries a story. Often, names are connected to decisions, situations, and people who were part of the moment when the name came into being. In many cultures, names also have a clear meaning. In Nepal, names almost always carry some kind of message, and for example, my own name, Aayush, means long life. I remember asking a teacher at school when I was little whether Finnish names also had meanings in the same way. The answer was partly yes. Matti and Pekka are neutral, simply names without any meaning attached to them. But names such as Valo, Lilja, or Toivo carry something concrete within them. This can make one’s own name feel even more valuable. 

I have thought about what I would have lost if I had continued as Jussi. Externally, probably quite little. Everyday life would have gone on, people would most likely have treated me the same way, and on the outside, I would have been the same person. Using my real name, however, has given me the chance to introduce myself without leaving part of myself and my roots in the shadows. Learning an unfamiliar name may seem difficult and inconvenient to an outsider but learning someone’s name sends the message that the other person is worth that effort. Learning a name is a small act, but it is an act that the other person notices. 

 

Aayush Khadka