Reflecting on the Importance of Correcting My Name

Ever since childhood, the complexity of my name wasn't just a struggle for strangers but even for my own Dominican parents. My full name is Shaeleigh Severino, spoken as "shay-lee se-ver-ee-no," a name that often baffled others into simplifying it.

At home, my parents, with their Spanish accents, toggled between 'Shay-leigh' and 'Che-la.' In a blend of Dominican tradition and American integration, 'Che-la' transformed into 'Shayla,' an easier, Americanized version. I slowly began to accept this altered identity.

Anxiety in Educational Settings

Each new school year arrived with a lingering anxiety, anticipating teachers' attempts at pronouncing my name. Many stumbled, some avoided eye contact, while others defaulted to nicknames.

I quickly adopted 'Shae' as a nickname among classmates. Each new variation felt like another piece of my fractured identity, inadvertently moving me away from the roots my name was meant to preserve.

A Teacher's Impactful Lesson

Change came in the tenth grade, thanks to a memorable teacher. On day one, she asked me to repeat my name correctly, insisting, 'Your name is significant. Demand its accurate pronunciation or not at all.'

Her words ignited a transformation, sparking the realization that my name was an integral part of my identity. It prompted me to assertively embrace being called Shaeleigh, breaking away from what was merely convenient for others.

Embracing My Full Identity

Although correcting others remains uncomfortable at times, each instance represents a quiet act of self-reclamation. Celebrating these small victories, like when someone gets it right initially, is profoundly empowering and a step toward rebuilding my true self.

Today, various versions of my name coexist. Past friends and family still use 'Shayla,' while newer connections recognize me as Shaeleigh. This blend acknowledges that reclaiming one's identity is a continuous, multifaceted journey.

When asked how I prefer to be addressed, it's a moment of acknowledgment and empowerment — a chance to affirm my identity, one syllable at a time.