please don't say my middle name
my middle name is kind of like my little secret
many people don’t even know it exists and usually back off when i refuse to let it be known.
my name sounds fine as it is. i learned to accept it. emily kim. but when i read emily sahngah kim i feel that the western part suffocates the east. i can be emily. i can be kim. there are certainly a lot of emilys in america and certainly a lot of kims too. but the sahngah struggles to be known. so i let it be hidden. i let it be written on official documents or simply reduced to a single initial ‘S.’
i’ve heard it before. the, “wait that’s so pretty!” when i say my middle name aloud and they immediately try to pronounce it. they take the letters without permission and smush it together as if tasting something new for the first time. i hate how they contort it to make it palatable, how their eyes look away and they tilt their head saying it like a question. why, does it taste foreign? does it taste sweet? would you try it again?
they tell me i shouldn’t be ashamed of it and how much they love it, but they have it wrong. i love my korean name. i love how it sounds when my mom drags the “ah” and says it in contralto: deep and low like when it’s night time and the lone, dim dining room light hugs the walls. i love how it sounds when my grandma answers the phone excitedly, and it’s like everything will be alright.
everything sounds right. it reminds me that yes, i do have another name. but the less i hear it, the more i think it’ll lose its meaning to me. am i sahngah? or am i emily? are we one and the same? if someone called me by my korean name, would i turn around and answer? will it ever sound foreign to me? will i still believe that sahngah is me?
i hate that when i say it, im always asked “wait what?” and they wait for me to repeat it because they didn’t hear me the first time. it’s not meant to hold power or strength.
i like how the words escape my lips and how it evaporates in the air as quickly as it is released. it’s not meant to be heard a thousand miles away, but rather up close in a low whisper.
american phonetics are forced out of people’s mouths like air is unwanted and must be rid of. let the letters breathe a little. take the time to feel the voiceless sounds settle.
it’s not like “song,” it’s not like “sang.” it’s the ‘s’ when you say miss, bliss, kiss, or reminisce.
hear how the ‘s’ lingers? how it
slips past
silently
solely
seeking
solace at the tips of your teeth?
it is not like the “s” in spit, slimey, solitude, savior, or stupid.
no, the ‘a’ is not like the ‘a’ in bang, tame, yawn, or gall
it is not “song-aw” or “sawn-gah”
it is sahngah.
say it how you want. practice it in your sleep. remember how soft the ‘s’ feels. see how your lips barely move. but please,
don’t say it in front of me.
