When I was younger, I hated my last name. Not in Korean, mind you. It flowed and made sense when spoken in the context of its home language. But in the mouths of non-Koreans, in particular those who had not a clue about how to pronounce Asian names in general (“it’s just so confusing!”), the name felt clunky. An intrusion. An interruption. An inconvenience. Or even worse, when it flowed too easily, it felt like an onomatopoeia. The kind people will use to disparage Asian names. Saying “My name is Min Kahng” felt like a punchline to a racist joke.
How to explain the pronunciation of 강? How to explain to non-linguists that that K is more like a G, but aspirated? That the “ah” is actually brighter than you think?
But it’s ok. I don’t need you to pronounce it 강. Kahng is an acceptable approximation. In English, it will *always* be mispronounced. My own attempts are colored by my American accent anyway.
I don’t even care if you get it wrong (once or twice) and make it rhyme with “hang.” Or if it’s misspelled (I get it. You’re used to seeing “Khan,” cuz... Genghis...? Star Trek, I guess? So that H gets tossed about. Sometimes even ending up on the tail of my first name. The most egregious spelling I’ve gotten? “Kahagn”). As long as you’re open to me correcting you, and I promise I’ll try to do so gracefully (for the first couple of times at least...), we’re good.
But give it an eye roll? Nuh-uh...
Talk about it like it’s ruining your day? No thank you.
Make it about you and turn my last name into an excuse to talk through all your insecurities around public speaking or name recollection? I’m a busy man, can I have my name back, please...?
강 is a river.
강 is strong.
강 is as complicated as my relationship with the man from whom I inherited it.
강 holds a history of dynasties and kingdoms that Kahng could never hold.
But Kahng has its own history too. A history of reclaiming something. Of finding confidence. Kahng is what I’ve got. In its imperfectly anglicized form.
Kahng rhymes with “song.”
Kahng is a needle. It slices into your comfortable tongue and causes you mild discomfort.
Kahng is a crowbar, wedging open space for itself to belong.
I wish I could give you a Pinterest quote about how proud I am now of Kahng. My levels of pride, love, frustration fluctuate every day. But at the very least, I no longer hate my last name. And I’ll be damned if I let you make me feel ashamed about it.
And this isn’t just about my name. But my name’s siblings and cousins and third cousins twice removed, distant relatives from other continents. Give any, any of them ‘tude, and you will see just how strong a river this 강 can be.
