I Hid My Middle Name, Thinking No One Would Notice I Was Asian
Today I’m working to fill the void it left
For years I told no one my middle name.
I hid it instead, making sure the period after my initial, T., nailed the remaining letters shut. When pressed, I claimed the T stood for Thomas.
It’s actually Tak-Wah (pronounced “duck wah”). My immigrant parents chose the name — which means “broad virtue” in Cantonese — so I wouldn’t forget my heritage. Not that I needed the reminder growing up. My black hair, short stature, and funny-sounding last name (Yee) ensured I stood out in our nearly all-white neighborhood.
Like most kids, I just wanted to fit in. Unable to hide the fact I was Asian, I focused on toning down my Asian-ness. Besides my middle name, I wouldn’t mention my family’s Chinese traditions or visits to Gong Gong and Ngin Ngin’s house. I spoke only English, ate the cafeteria lunch, and attended Sunday School. My soccer and Cub Scout uniforms offered both belonging and protection.
Despite being born in the U.S. and my efforts to blend in, I exhibited traits that today I attribute to my Asian American upbringing. Deeply shy, I rarely uttered a word in class. I kept my head down, avoiding eye contact, and meticulously completed my work. The spotlight made me…
