In classrooms, some students offer a simplified or Westernized pronunciation of their name. The version of their name a student offers is the version you should use, period.
At the same time, it can be helpful for educators to understand that this choice is often complicated. When a student offers a pronunciation that feels easier for others to say, it may reflect adaptation rather than preference. It could also be a preference based on location and cultural context.
This does not mean teachers should insist on saying a student’s name “the way their family says it,” or attempt to restore some imagined authenticity. You don’t know their relationship to their culture, family, language, diaspora, etc.
But understanding why students sometimes simplify their names helps educators respond with care rather than assumptions.
Students simplify their names for many reasons, most of which have nothing to do with rejecting their identity. Some reasons might include…
Rita Kohli describes her brother’s experience of having his name mispronounced throughout his academic career: Sharad (‘shu-rudth’) was called Sharub, which became Shrub, during a ninth grade class, and it stuck for the rest of high school. For many South Asian Americans, if their name is repeatedly said a certain way for years, it can feel like a lot less friction to just… go with it.
For some students, offering a Westernized or even a “watered-down” pronunciation becomes a form of self-protection.
In some cases, the pronunciation a student offers is the only version they feel comfortable hearing from educators or in the school environment. The pronunciation used within their family or cultural community may feel private, vulnerable, or simply not worth negotiating in a classroom setting.
It may be that they do not trust you to say it correctly.
It may be that they do not want you to try.
It may be that the version they’ve given you is the one they want you to use.
The key is not to infer meaning from the pronunciation itself, but to respect the choice the student has made, and to recognize that choice may be shaped by long experience, not ease.
Recognizing this context does not require teachers to change what they say aloud if a student is already offering you a particular pronunciation. It just provides more insight into the reality that the pronunciation they hear may be shaped by history, power, exhaustion, or even simply contextual preference.
I am South Asian American, and I’ve been mispronouncing my own name in school my entire life. My name is actually pronounced “Pu-nee-tha.” Yet in most contexts, I introduce myself as “Puh-nee-da.” It’s not a calculated choice; if I walk into a room of predominantly Brown adults, I’ll instinctively use the “correct” pronunciation. But around mixed cultural group peers, I identify with the “wrong” pronunciation.
I’m not alone in code-switching based on context. Many South Asian Americans I know have done the same: offering Americanized pronunciations (Unn-jal-ee becomes “Anne-julie”) or using entirely different names altogether in certain contexts, and the “correct” pronunciations in other.
An aside: what’s striking is that even after offering an “easier” version, teachers still often pronounced my name incorrectly (“Pow-needa”; “Pau-nita”).
As teachers, we want to build real relationships with our students, and that starts with caring about who they are. That often requires some understanding of their world. That’s why I think it’s so important for educators to know that when a student (a child!) offers a Westernized or simplified version of their name, it doesn’t automatically mean that pronunciation reflects their preference, identity, or what they use at home. It’s just important to know there may be a bigger story there.
And no, we won’t always get access to that story. And understanding students’ experiences does not entitle us to control how they move through the world, or to influence their personal relationship to their culture, identity, or name.
But trying to understand their life does help us understand and then support them more fully.
If you share a cultural background with a student (and depending on your relationship with them), you may decide to have an open, thoughtful conversation about name pronunciation. (It is entirely possible a student doesn’t even realize they have the option of you saying their name correctly! I know that for me specifically, if I’d had a Brown teacher who could pronounce Punita correctly, it might have changed my own comfort in saying my name correctly growing up.)
Regardless of your background, some best practices apply if you’re considering following up with a student about how to pronounce their name:
If a student offers a Westernized pronunciation and you secretly suspect it may be for convenience rather than preference… then a quiet, respectful check-in might be appropriate, and still preserves the student’s agency. What matters most here is that the choice belongs to them.
Pronouncing names correctly is not about getting it right once. It’s about agency, effort, respect for their personhood. When educators stay attentive, invite correction, and keep learning, students don’t have to choose between belonging and being themselves.
Read more about why we should try to pronounce students’ names correctly. Here are some ideas from teachers on how to pronounce students’ names right. I also talk about this topic and related topics around South Asian American experiences in schools in my book Brown Voices.
