WP4: I used to go by Osa
Before I came to college, I used to go by a nickname. Everyone would call me Osa because it was easier to pronounce. My full name, Osarumwnse, was much more complicated than Osa. So, to make everyone’s life easier, I went by Osa (even though I liked my full name more). It wasn’t until a guest speaker came into my school that my perspective changed.
This guest speaker went through a similar situation with her name. Until one day she said enough is enough. She said if we could learn how to pronounce historic and complicated white names, then people could learn how to pronounce our beautiful names. That sentence changed my worldview because she was right. People can and should learn how to pronounce our names. It’s only complicated because they make it that way. I didn’t realize it yet, but by going by an unwanted nickname I was erasing a part of my humanity.
Throughout this semester, I discovered how important the concept of erasure is. It started with Tim Z. Hernandez’s All They Will Call You. A book that focused on the humanization of forgotten migrant workers. Before his book, the names Luis Miranda Cuevas, Guadalupe Ramírez Lara, Ramón Paredes González, and José Sánchez Valdivia were reduced to migrant workers. Their names were forgotten and their humanity revoked, not by themselves (like in my case), but by the dominant society. All the emotions, experiences, and memories they held were reduced to a number. They were nothing more than just another person who died in a plane crash to society.
Their erasure also led to their dehumanization. It happened so quickly because of their marginalized status. It made me reflect on my status and how quickly someone like me could be erased and forgotten. That idea frightens me. I don’t want everything I’ve experienced and felt to be reduced to a statistic.
After this realization, I wanted to ensure people like me are not forgotten about in history because of our identities. If that happens, history would be missing out on so many beautiful languages, fashion, food, folklore, traditions, religions, and culture. These aspects often get lost in translation and are forgotten about. The dominant society overlooks these cultural elements that shaped individuals’ souls. But there are ways to halt this erasure process.
One of the first ways to stop the erasure process is by identifying when it occurs. This was my main focus point in my writ340 projects. I identified ways that my identities were erased in various settings. I looked at blackness, aging, womanhood, and their intersections in society. I saw how blackness was being nullified in fashion and the concept of womanhood. I saw how women aren’t given the grace of a normal aging process. I saw how womanhood was trapped in patriarchal and white supremacist ideals. All of these avenues erase an individual’s humanity and culture.
But now I can preserve their humanity because I can identify the erasure mechanism. I see how pop culture and the media can start the erasure process. I can connect structural ideas like racism, colorism, and the male gale to the erasure process. I understand how false hegemonic beliefs maintain the erasure process. With this newly founded knowledge, bestowed upon me by Tim Z. Hernandez, Freire, Audre Lorde, and Prof Dissinger, I can teach myself and my community about the erasure mechanism.
Being able to learn and teach myself is why identifying the erasure mechanism is so important. This semester, I’ve learned so much about these identities and how they work in my life. When people “compliment” how young I look, I now know it’s rooted in patriarchal ideas of beauty. This class and these writing projects have helped me better understand and put into words my everyday experiences in this society. And how much the idea of erasure plays a part in my existence.
I can teach others around me as well! It requires a community to ensure marginalized identities and cultures are not forgotten in history. One person can’t solve the erasure problem. Maybe my little community won’t be able to fully stop it from happening either. But, if others and myself can aid in reawakening one culture, I would say that’s one step forward. It helps to ensure that culture never dies as it’s passed down from generation to generation. It preserves the culture so that people a million years from now can appreciate and interact with that same culture.
If my small community can help retain a culture for a million years, it will all be due to this semester at USC. I was able to be fully immersed in subjects that are a part of my soul. I was given the tools to help me dissect these subjects in a way that preserves my humanity and the humanity of those around me. I was in a space that fostered and promoted empathy, humor, and intelligence. I can now move forward with the new knowledge of erasure and prevent it from consuming any additional cultures and traditions. It would be disheartening if I didn’t try to stop the erasure process after this semester. Because if I don’t, who will? One person at a time can help to restore kindness, empathy, and humanity. And after this semester, I hope to be a part of that journey.
Oh, and by the way, my name is not as complicated as it looks. I know seeing a w next to a m makes no sense in the English language. But trust me it’s simple to pronounce! It’s pronounced Sam-moo-say. It’s derived from the Benin tribe in Nigeria. It’s a gender-neutral name, but I see more boys have it than girls. It’s also incorrectly spelled. In the traditional Benin spelling, it’s spelled Osarumwense (Sah-moo-wen-say). Somehow, my parents forgot the e when they put it on the birth certificate. I like it because it adds a layer of uniqueness to me and it’s hard to forget. I hope in many years to come the name Osarumwnse or Osarumwense will be preserved in Nigerian culture. I’ll stop the erasure for now by putting it in my WP4.
