When I was living in Japan, people couldn’t pronounce my name, “Pamela.” In Japanese it became Pa-me-ra. That in itself was okay, in fact, my mom still calls me that. The problem is that Pa-me-ra written out in Katakana becomes パメラ, the visual spelling which invokes thoughts of ガメラ (Gamera—the flying turtle from the Godzilla movies).
Fast-forward 10+ years and I’m in college where people knew me as “Pam.” One student decided to call me “Spam.” About this same time, I had a puffy white down jacket that I used to wear all the time. One group of friends, who wanted to counter the “mean” nickname, opted for cuter names in reference to my jacket like “Futon” or “Tofu.”
My last name, “Nobuto” (pronounced Nobutou), could also be a boy’s first name, but without the elongated last vowel. Occasionally in public, people would ask me where my son was.
When I married though, I took my husband’s last name. My mom exclaimed, “People are going to think you’re Chinese!” While I anticipated things like people speaking to me in Chinese (which has happened), my mom was probably worried about me losing my cultural identity (or maybe she just didn’t like Chinese people?!), but I had a plan. I decided, for the first time, to use my Japanese middle name, “Momoko.” When Japanese speakers write back to me, they ignore my first name and simply address me as, “Momoko-san.” When I meet Japanese speakers in person, they also don’t ask me if I speak Japanese, they immediately call me “Momoko-san,” and the conversation just goes, in Japanese.
I didn’t realize at the time that changing my last name would be controversial. One married woman said to me, “You’re so dedicated.” I wondered to myself if that meant she wasn’t. I suppose taking your husband’s surname could be interpreted as subservient. A lot of women now just use their maiden names or use hyphens. I prefer brevity over ceremony, so hyphenating wouldn’t have been my style.
When my husband’s Shanghainese family first immigrated to the US, they spelled their name “Y-E-N.” However, as Hanyu pinyin (a romanization system for Standard Chinese developed in 1958) became implemented more widely in mainland China, the spelling of their name changed to “Y-A-N”. My husband is the youngest in his family, so his paperwork (and only his paperwork) had the new Pinyin spelling. When he got naturalized, he had to change his name to “Yan,” while the rest of his family was able to keep “Yen.” What’s even more confusing is that everyone in his extended family is also still “Yen.” I had a conversation with my husband about how he could change his name back, but he reminded me that I would have to change my name again too, and maybe that’s just one too many name changes for me in my lifetime.
What most people call me, “Pam” becomes Pam-u in Japanese. Years ago, I had a neighbor who used to call me Pame-chan (like Pamera-chan without the last syllable). I’ve had friends call me “Pammy” (which was my dad’s nickname for me as well).
I know that names can be sacred, but I’m not sure that I’ve felt my name to be that precious. I’m not picky about what people call me, to me they are (well, mostly) all terms of endearment (though maybe not Gamera). Hmmm, maybe another Nikkei Names will pop up in ten years and I’ll feel more strongly about it.
In the meantime, I suppose, just call me “Pam.”
Or, my friends, whatever your heart desires.
© 2024 Pam Momoko Yan
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