Law Society research for its 2020 Race for Inclusion report identified ‘microaggressions’ as being of particular importance for those lawyers who were canvassed.
Almost all participants in the research had experienced some level of microaggression based on their ethnicity, including comments about their name or their presumed culture.
They often do not want to confront these microaggressions as they have worked hard to get to where they are and do not want to endanger their career. It is considered difficult to raise the topic of racism/racial disparities in the workplace, particularly early in a career.
The response of some has even been to change their names to try to fit in. Here three lawyers from the Law Society’s Ethnic Minority Lawyers Division committee share their experience of changing their given name, and their feelings about doing so. Did they feel like ‘imposters’? Did it matter?
Susanta Kumar Banerjee
There is a reason why I chose to go with my middle name, Kumar. Having withstood a childhood where I was referred to as ‘the Indian Santa’, I decided as far back as university to go with the easier-to-pronounce Kumar.
Although synonymous with ‘Harold and Kumar go to Whitecastle’ or ‘The Kumars at no. 42’ fame, I discovered that it carried another problem: it became the ‘go to’ source for joke material when my name cropped up in conversation.
Did I feel like an imposter? Not really because it was still part of my name. My attitude towards it was less scientific but more ‘machine learnt’: I wanted to reduce the number of times I had to face an awkward situation about my name.
Even as I write this, I wonder why I don’t just put in the extra effort and spell out my first name, as it was ordained by my parents. My name means ‘calm’ and ‘peaceful’, and, honestly, I like the sound of it. So, do we really embody names that are not our first given names when choosing convenience over reality? I like to think so, but the jury’s out on that.
Clive Siu Yin Wong
When applying to law firms in my second year at university, I had a problem: my real name was too hard to pronounce. To make matters worse, I also came across an article which suggested that job applicants with ethnic minority-sounding names are less likely to be called for interview. The problem was that I did not know what to call myself. Therefore, instead of choosing a name myself, I was going to let the law firms I was applying to choose it for me: I used a different name for each firm I applied to. The name that I used for the law firm which hired me would be the name I choose. Fast forward a few years, I now go by ‘Clive’. Correct, I ended up being hired by the third law firm that I applied to. I started with ‘A’ and went down the alphabet as I made more and more applications (Andrew, Bob, Clive and so on).
People are always entertained by this story and it’s a good joke to tell at dinner parties. I do wonder, though, whether the name made a difference and whether the study on white-sounding names had a point. I hope future generations of ethnic minority lawyers will not need to go to the lengths that I did. Your name is a huge part of your identity after all, perhaps not meant to be [a kind of] ‘roulette.’
Cindy Yip
Growing up in a small town where the population was predominantly White British, my first-generation immigrant parents were keen for their children to blend in so they gave us English names. Unfortunately for me, this coincided with the Sindy doll reaching the peak of her popularity and so I was named after Barbie’s rival. I later changed the spelling of my name from ‘Sindy’ to ‘Cindy’ to distance myself from my blonde blue-eyed namesake. I would have preferred Elizabeth but it could have been worse. They could have named me Barbie.
In traditional Chinese culture, names are chosen with care to reflect the character or fortune the parent wishes for that child. My Chinese name means ‘gentle’ and ‘peaceful’. My brothers were given names that translated to ‘Great fortune’ and ‘Great hero’ of which I was always rather envious.
I once considered switching back to my Chinese name but it was always pronounced incorrectly so I reverted back to my English name. All these years later, I’m still not very fond of my English name but it feels too late to change.
