The Aerial View of My Name
by Samantha Haneul Choi
“Haneul! Just sit in the middle,” says my dad. I burn with embarrassment as I follow my teammates into the car, hoping they didn't hear my name.
Names are an integral part of our identity; they give us our identity. They bear intimate, cultural, and familial connections. They also offer us an understanding of who we are, the communities where we belong, and our place in this world.
My name is Samantha Haneul Choi. Close friends and family call me by my Korean/middle name: Haneul. It means sky or heaven. When I think of my name, I picture a blue sky with white clouds and the sun shining. But everyday the sky gets dark, and on stormy days is covered by clouds. I relate to the sky because I can be likable but I have bad moments, but the sun will come out. The sky is the area in which clouds, the sun, and stars can be seen. The clouds represent bad emotions, while the sun represents good emotions. The stars represent shimmers of hope in dark times.
My English name is Samantha, but my parents started calling me Haneul because my Korean babysitters would have a hard time saying Samantha. But non-Koreans have a hard time pronouncing Haneul, which is why I use Samantha with non-Koreans. I basically have two different names, which are used interchangeably. Each name represents a side of me.
My name being Haneul really affects my identity because my name is a big part of who I am. If I only had an English name, my sense of the Korean part of my identity would diminish. My Korean name means a lot to me. I constantly remember my Korean heritage whenever I think of my name.
I have to admit I am embarrassed when people call me Haneul in public places, but it is part of my identity as a Korean American. In public places, I am known as Samantha, so I feel tentative about using my Korean name in public. Every year my family prints Christmas cards. Since a majority of them are for church members, we put Haneul for my name. I remember giving them to my teachers and really wishing it said Samantha rather than Haneul. And from second to fifth grade, I pleaded with my confidants to call me Samantha at school because I didn’t want other people to know about my other name. When they forgot and said “Haneul…” I immediately shushed them and reminded them to call me Samantha. I think I am just afraid that people won’t accept me because of my name, and that they will mispronounce it too. It may be a trifle because the truth is that there are no severe repercussions to sharing my Korean name.
I feel good about my name now. Though there are embarrassments and difficulties, I love having two very special names and getting to be a part of two cultures in my life. I have come to realize that I should be proud of them. Proud of my country, my heritage, and proud that I’m Asian. Nevertheless, I would love to keep my two names separate, and I will continue to use both names for others’ sakes, and to remind me so I never forget where I come from and who I am.
Judges' Comments
Names are so important! It was so interesting to read about how this young writer balances the push and pull of having different cultural names which many of us in the AAPI community experience can relate to. - A.K.
The author is conflicted with her name, she is proud of but also embarrassed by her Korean name. Even as she concludes that her Asian heritage is important she is still ambivalent; acceptance or belonging to her peers remains an overriding factor. - K.K.L.
This is a beautiful essay, and I love how the author uses their name and the metaphor of the sky throughout these reflections. I really appreciate the author’s vulnerability and honesty in this essay, and was so moved by their reflections, and by their conclusion, which acknowledges how special names and culture are, even when life and society can make you feel self-conscious about them. Great job to this writer, and keep writing! You have a very special voice!! - S.T.
by Samantha Haneul Choi
“Haneul! Just sit in the middle,” says my dad. I burn with embarrassment as I follow my teammates into the car, hoping they didn't hear my name.
Names are an integral part of our identity; they give us our identity. They bear intimate, cultural, and familial connections. They also offer us an understanding of who we are, the communities where we belong, and our place in this world.
My name is Samantha Haneul Choi. Close friends and family call me by my Korean/middle name: Haneul. It means sky or heaven. When I think of my name, I picture a blue sky with white clouds and the sun shining. But everyday the sky gets dark, and on stormy days is covered by clouds. I relate to the sky because I can be likable but I have bad moments, but the sun will come out. The sky is the area in which clouds, the sun, and stars can be seen. The clouds represent bad emotions, while the sun represents good emotions. The stars represent shimmers of hope in dark times.
My English name is Samantha, but my parents started calling me Haneul because my Korean babysitters would have a hard time saying Samantha. But non-Koreans have a hard time pronouncing Haneul, which is why I use Samantha with non-Koreans. I basically have two different names, which are used interchangeably. Each name represents a side of me.
My name being Haneul really affects my identity because my name is a big part of who I am. If I only had an English name, my sense of the Korean part of my identity would diminish. My Korean name means a lot to me. I constantly remember my Korean heritage whenever I think of my name.
I have to admit I am embarrassed when people call me Haneul in public places, but it is part of my identity as a Korean American. In public places, I am known as Samantha, so I feel tentative about using my Korean name in public. Every year my family prints Christmas cards. Since a majority of them are for church members, we put Haneul for my name. I remember giving them to my teachers and really wishing it said Samantha rather than Haneul. And from second to fifth grade, I pleaded with my confidants to call me Samantha at school because I didn’t want other people to know about my other name. When they forgot and said “Haneul…” I immediately shushed them and reminded them to call me Samantha. I think I am just afraid that people won’t accept me because of my name, and that they will mispronounce it too. It may be a trifle because the truth is that there are no severe repercussions to sharing my Korean name.
I feel good about my name now. Though there are embarrassments and difficulties, I love having two very special names and getting to be a part of two cultures in my life. I have come to realize that I should be proud of them. Proud of my country, my heritage, and proud that I’m Asian. Nevertheless, I would love to keep my two names separate, and I will continue to use both names for others’ sakes, and to remind me so I never forget where I come from and who I am.
Judges' Comments
Names are so important! It was so interesting to read about how this young writer balances the push and pull of having different cultural names which many of us in the AAPI community experience can relate to. - A.K.
The author is conflicted with her name, she is proud of but also embarrassed by her Korean name. Even as she concludes that her Asian heritage is important she is still ambivalent; acceptance or belonging to her peers remains an overriding factor. - K.K.L.
This is a beautiful essay, and I love how the author uses their name and the metaphor of the sky throughout these reflections. I really appreciate the author’s vulnerability and honesty in this essay, and was so moved by their reflections, and by their conclusion, which acknowledges how special names and culture are, even when life and society can make you feel self-conscious about them. Great job to this writer, and keep writing! You have a very special voice!! - S.T.