The small act of getting someone’s name right is important. The small act of introducing young scientists to a scientific community is important. A sense of belonging begins with effectively naming people as they want to be called. 

Properly pronouncing names is the first step in how we feel included, yet people go mispronouncing or saying names incorrectly all the time. 

The most memorable time someone did not say my name right was when I was introduced to a large scientific audience (+100) for a genetics symposium. 

Moderator: “Now, speaking on the introduction of the invasive seagrass is, Kahhleeecheee.” 

Kalichi? Who is that? Did I get introduced to an entire room of my future colleagues as Kaleechiii? The heck? Did he condense my entire name into one word? Kalichii, nah, that is not my name. 

Me: “😜, uh sorry, actually, Kalichi just left the building.” 

Audience: Hahaha

Me: “Hi my name is Kelcie Chiquillo, and I’m gonna be talking to you about the wonders of seagrass and how the introduction of the invasive seagrass....” 

The talk ends and the moderator comes up to me, “Hey, great talk. Sorry about mispronouncing your name earlier,  you know with a name like Tom Smith it's hard to mess up 🤗.” 

Me: 🧐  

To be honest, I thought it was a genuine mistake. But it was his corny, xenophobic apology that makes this interaction a micro aggression. With a name like Tom Smith, what can go wrong? This is colonizer mentality. He openly admitted that “easier” to pronounce names make an easier introduction. This is not uncommon, studies have shown that names that are more difficult to pronounce are judged less positively than easier to pronounce names. Regardless, these “small” interactions cut deep. It reinforces that my name alone doesn’t belong in science, my name is foreign, and my presence is alien. If he had no idea how to pronounce my name, why did he simplify my name into something palatable? For those with “foreign like” or indigenous names, when people mispronounce our names, we are faced with three options A) correct the person or B) just let it go, or C) let them call you by a more palatable/convenient name.  The worst is having to sit through the horrible attempts of mispronunciations: 

Person X: “How do you say your last name?”

Me: “Ch” 

Person X: “Is it Cheekywillow, or Chikwillow?”

Me: “Actually” 

Person X: “Oh it must be Spanish! I got it, Cheekweeyoo” 

Me advocating for myself: “No, the correct way to say Chiquillo is Cheee- Key- Yoo.”

I know that I will have to say my own name, advocate for myself, because white supremacy culture never carved out a name like mine. Take the effort to learn how to pronounce someone’s name. Moving forward, just say, “Can you say your name for me? I don’t want to mispronounce it.” Easy, and just like that we can change the cultural climate. A sense of belonging begins when we feel included and addressed by the names we were given or choose to identify with.

I am published as Kelcie L. Chiquillo, and as my name stands right now it is not too difficult, in fact it is too little.

My initials (K. L. C.) literally say my first name, and I was meant to study the kale of the sea. In fact I do, I study the ecological and evolutionary dynamics of an invasive, underwater, sandy, salt-loving plant, called seagrass. I’m a yoga instructor, a dive master, co-founder of @awocspace, and I’m tired of feeling like the victim or marauder of xenophobic transactions. I’ll embrace Kalichi, and I’ll bring the KaleSea SandWitch to Marine Science where #RepresentationMatters. Follow me @CaptainKalichi.