That’s Not My Name!

Mirha looks forward to her first day in school, but things do not go as she imagined. Other students and even some teachers pronounce her name in a lot of different ways, but none of them is correct. It makes Mirha feel very frustrated and a little confused – why is it so difficult for people out of her family to say her name right? She has been Mirha ever since she is born, and Mama, Baba and Nani call her Mirha every single day. Mirha thinks of changing her name to a more “normal” and “common” one, one that is easier for everybody else to say. Maybe with that name, Mirha would be able to make friends.

When Mirha comes home with this idea and a sad face, Mama tells her the meaning of Mirha’s name in Arabic – it pronounces beautifully in her language, and it means “happiness”! So Mirha decides to be proud of her name as the way it originally is and won’t change it for anyone. The next day, Mirha comes back to school, proudly sharing the proper pronunciation of her name with everyone. Sometimes people still get it wrong, but that is all right. Mirha now has the confidence to say, “That’s not my name!” She is also excited to learn about the stories and meanings behind her new friends’ unique names.

I enjoyed how the author, Anoosha Syed, presents Mirha’s personality in a layered and positive way: Mirha feels excited when school is about to start, but then the reality that no one pronounces her name correctly hits, and waves of frustration and confusion appear. At first, she is shy and intimidated, playing with all kinds of possibilities in her head, but, when she returns to her loving home and is surrounded by family members, her optimistic and assertive self jumps right onto the pages! Not only does Mirha reclaim the confidence in her name and her cultural identity for herself, but she also becomes an advocate for all children at school, especially the ones with a linguistically minoritized name! And, of course, for everyone who reads her story, too.

Anoosha very elegantly states the thesis of the story through Mama’s words when Mirha reaches out to her for comfort and affirmation. As a result, young readers of the book are able to relate to and understand the reasons and arguments without the content feeling too theoretical. It’s Mama, gently sharing her wisdom, accompanied with hugs and smiles, in Mama’s sweet way – a universal language that young children are most familiar with.

And this sentence Mirha’s Mama says will stay with me for the rest of my life: “If people can remember names like Beethoven and Tchaikovsky and Michelangelo, they can remember Mirha!”

Isn’t that illuminating? It’s never about the complexity or unfamiliar spelling or strange pronunciation. It’s about whether they are listened to, seen, known, and respected.

Research shows that many immigrant parents rename their children before they enter school to avoid confusion for the people in the dominant culture and/or to shield the young ones from frustration and the feeling of being outsiders (as happens to Mirha at first). Such (re)naming practices reflect the very power-imbalanced relationships taking place in schools involving immigrant families, all of which raises the question: What can we do to make a difference?

Perhaps That’s Not My Name! and other picture books like it could serve as a starting point for us to learn, to ask questions, and to challenge the status quo.