December 1, 2023
Erica Simunovic Vanvisa Agbayani-Musigapala
Disclaimer: This shared article is a culminating project for our Useful School class. In crafting this article, we heavily drew from personal experiences and perspectives. We recognize this inherent limitation and acknowledge that the content may not fully capture the diversity of all perspectives on the topic. While we strive for inclusivity, we appreciate diverse viewpoints and encourage readers to consider additional perspectives and resources.
Your name is often one of the first things that people and society use to identify who you are. In this analysis, we committed to exploring and understanding individual identities, in the context of both first and last names.
We explored the history of naming, the opportunities and challenges of name giving and changing, and the ways in which name inclusion can be fostered.
We hope our exploration will ignite curiosity about your own name and identity, prompting reflection on personal biases and fostering a deeper understanding of how to show respect for individuals through the acknowledgment of their names.
My name is Vanvisa Musigapala, and when I got married I changed it Vanvisa Agabayani-Musigapala. I’m ethnically Thai, and my husband is Filipino. My family calls me “Nong Note”, because we’re a culture of nickname basis - “Nong” means little or someone younger and “Note” is my Thai nickname. Recalling my experience as a 12-year-old immigrant with a difficult-to-pronounce first and last name, it was a big adjustment to be referred to by everyone as Vanvisa. I once had a 6th grade teacher joke "We're going to change your last name to Smith". Growing up, I was constantly bullied for my name. At one point, we almost changed my name to Vanessa, since it was closest to Vanvisa, or May, since I was born in May. In spite of my mom's attempts for a few weeks to use those names, neither of them stuck, and I'm glad I didn't change it. My first and last names have strong roots in my identity, ethnicity, and culture - I consider myself Thai first and Thai American second, and I appreciate the meaning behind my first name, along with the uniqueness of both of them.
When asked about how my mother named me, she said, “Your name, วันวิสา (wun-wie-saa), holds a special place in Thai culture as it's tied to the auspicious time when Buddha was born.[1] I put a lot of thought into choosing this name for you before you were even born. We envisioned a connection to music because your biological father was a musician, hence your nickname of Nong Note for musical note. You arrived on the same religious holiday as your birthday! It's like a beautiful alignment of events.”
My name is Erica Simunovic. The question, “How do you pronounce your last name...” is usually what I get in spaces where small talk happens. I still brace for it because I couldn’t confidently tell you the “right” pronunciation. I wish I had a more knowledgeable response but the story behind my last name is tangled. To make an awkward story short, my dad adopted his stepfather's last name, a decision made before I was born. Consequently, the cultural roots of my step-grandfather's Yugoslavian heritage are lost on me. Adding complexity, my dad is Vietnamese, and my mom is Taiwanese, but I was born and raised in the United States. The intersection between my last name's cultural significance and my physical appearance remains a challenge, not only of my own understanding but also confronts the preconceived notions held by others.
To cope with the self doubt for lacking cultural identity, I continued to deflect any attention towards my name. However, when I was asked to include the phonetic spelling of my name upon joining Useful School, I stopped to think about the reasons behind this gesture. This experience led me on a path to discover more opportunities for belonging, both online and in-person.