H-e-n-a-t-t-a

In Brazil, my name is just a name in the midst of other common names: Renata, Rafaela, Gabriela, Laura, Maria, Tatyana, Pedro, João, José, Gabriel, Lucas. It was an ordinary name hanging out with its peers. It was another Brazilian name used without any reverence or care. There was no curiosity about it; there was no estrangement. Until the day I moved abroad.

Suddenly, I had to explain how to spell my name. I started to say it in a very smooth way, explaining how Brazilian R’s in the beginning of a word have an American “h” sound. I had to work hard in order to make my name more acceptable. Without noticing, I became an apologist for the existence of my name. “Nice to meet you. My name is Renata. It sounds like H-e-n-a-t-t-a in English. Don’t worry if you cannot pronounce it correctly. It is hard, I know. It is a Brazilian name.”

Even though I try to convince myself that how my name is pronounced is not really important, it is not completely true. The right pronunciation sounds like home for me. Maybe this is why I effusively celebrate when a person can say my name correctly. It is like going back home. It is almost being ordinary again.