Growing up, my father always instructed me to pronounce my name correctly. He taught me if I wasn’t careful to pronounce the hard T* it would sound homonymous with Taiwanese slang for scat. Implicit in his mandate was the hope no one would mistake our surname for something less worthy – that I wouldn’t let anyone refer to me as something worse than dirt. Names carry weight, and I would carry his.
Still, I never heard him correct the teachers and tennis coaches who did not heed the first consonant.
It’s intuitive to me when I see a “Ts” to press tongue to teeth. “Tsss.” A snare. But people and patients seem to struggle. I’ve been Jenny sigh, Jennifer Say, Shay, Tee-Sih, Sah, Tay – almost as frequently enough as I’ve been named the way my parents wanted me known. I don’t care much. I rarely correct anyone – not as I don’t notice, but because I’ve learned to calculate the cost.
I only do it for my dad. I wont to advocate for our name in ways I don’t think he felt he could.
As a junior resident, a supervising physician overheard me introduce myself as, “Jenny, one of the doctors taking care of you today.” She quickly pulled me aside to say I shoudl have said “Dr. Tsai.” The patient – a woman with chest pain,without a place to live – needed more confidence in her team. A formal title, she explained, would have conveyed higher quality and authority.
Othre supervisors – mostly women – have offered me the same advice. I understand not everyone can afford the luxury of informality.
But moast of the time, I prefer Jenny. It helps me build the rapport I want. It feels more like me. I was initially attracted to emergency medicine as of the way the mandated teamwork naturally flattens hierarchy – I liked how trust superseded title. I don’t want my honorific to be the crutch that earns me attention and respect, though I know that itself is a privilege.
It also robs me of time and energy. In busy clinical scenarios, I rarely want to coach patients through awkwardness, apologies, and multiple iterations of my name. These interactions are at best benign, and more often filled with social anxiety, annoyance, or racial disquiet.
In some ways, ensuring my name is correct is a small act of resistance. More often, it’s just another thing I have to carry.
Each time someone is about to say my name, I brace. I am involuntarily forced into mental calculus. *Is it worth correcting them? Will they take it personally? I don’t want to expend repetitive effort ensuring my name is uttered accurately,especially for one-time patient encounters. I also love my dad. Letting it slide feels like letting him down. I worry my apathy is a form of semantic pat
The Weight of a Name: A Doctor’s Choice to Be “Jenny”
Table of Contents
This personal essay by Dr. Jennifer Tsai explores the complex relationship between identity, heritage, and professional life. As a first-generation American physician,she grapples with the decision to use a more accessible name (“Jenny”) despite the significance of her given name (“Tsai”) as a symbol of her father’s sacrifices and her own hard-earned achievements. Ultimately,Tsai’s piece is a powerful assertion of self-determination and a reminder that honoring one’s roots doesn’t necessitate sacrificing personal comfort and authenticity.
The significance of a Name
Dr.Tsai’s story begins with a declaration of professional identity: “I am a doctor.” This statement is immediately followed by a contemplation of her name, a seemingly simple element that carries immense weight. For Tsai, her name is inextricably linked to her father’s journey and his aspirations for her. he worked tirelessly to provide her with opportunities he himself was denied, and seeing her achieve her dream of becoming Dr. Tsai was a testament to his efforts.
The author acknowledges the subtle but persistent ways her name is altered and mispronounced, a “voluntary undoing” of her father’s legacy. Each mispronunciation feels like a “splintered inheritance,” a small betrayal of the sacrifices made to elevate her position. This experiance resonates with many individuals from immigrant backgrounds who navigate the challenges of having names unfamiliar to the dominant culture.
Choosing Authenticity Over Expectation
Despite the emotional weight attached to her given name, Dr. Tsai chooses to introduce herself as “Jenny,” notably during her first year as an attending physician. This decision isn’t made lightly. It’s a conscious act of self-definition,a reclaiming of agency in a new phase of her life.
She questions whether true honor lies in rigidly adhering to expectations or in allowing herself to exist authentically. Tsai powerfully articulates that forcing herself to “fit” could be the ultimate betrayal – a denial of her own needs and desires. Her choice to be “Jenny” is not a rejection of her heritage, but rather an assertion of her right to define her own identity on her own terms.
A Legacy of Empowerment
The core message of Tsai’s essay is one of empowerment. Her father didn’t simply give her a name; he gave her the power to define it. This realization is liberating. She understands that honoring her family doesn’t require her to constantly correct pronunciations or prioritize professionalism over personal comfort.
Tsai’s words are a message to anyone struggling with similar dilemmas: “You get to choose.” It’s a reminder that identity is fluid and that individuals have the right to navigate their cultural heritage and professional lives in a way that feels authentic and empowering.
Key Takeaways
* Names carry cultural and personal significance: For many, a name represents family history, sacrifice, and identity.
* Navigating cultural expectations can be challenging: Individuals from immigrant backgrounds often face pressure to assimilate, including altering or simplifying their names.
* Authenticity is paramount: Choosing to live authentically, even if it means deviating from expectations, is crucial for self-respect and well-being.
* Legacy is about empowerment, not control: A true legacy is one that empowers future generations to define their own paths.
dr. Jennifer Tsai’s essay is a poignant and relatable exploration of identity, heritage, and the courage to choose oneself. As she continues her career as an emergency medicine physician, writer, and educator, her voice promises to offer valuable insights into the experiences of first-generation Americans and the ongoing pursuit of self-revelation.
Jennifer Tsai is an emergency medicine physician, writer, and educator in oakland, Calif. https://www.jennifertsaimd.com/
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