Ask Me How To Say My Name

In a world full of noise, saying someone’s name right is the first step to really listening.

On Harvard’s campus, introductions are abundant, rushed, and awful. You can meet an incredible amount of people throughout the day, whether during a club meeting or in a dining hall, and every exchange feels the same. Luckily, we have the perfect opportunity to break this cycle, starting with the very first part of those “Harvard intros” that we regurgitate daily.

As our campuses — and society at large — become increasingly diverse, so do our names. While a rolled R or a stressed second syllable may seem intimidating at first, school is a place to learn, whether inside or outside of the classroom.

Maybe that rolled R carries a backstory of a mother tongue or a beloved relative, or maybe an unfamiliar name has a deeper meaning. Either way, you won’t know if you don’t ask.

My mom has always made sure my name was said correctly. Ever since I started kindergarten, my mother would write a Post-it note on the first day of school and hand it to the teacher. Her beautiful cursive would spell out a phonetic pronunciation: “They’ve.” It’s deceptively simple. With only three letters, my name is spelled “Dev” — but is pronounced in a way that begs a second look at the Post-it.

As I grew up, I began to appreciate why my mother insisted on maintaining this tradition. The Post-it wasn’t merely a handy pronunciation guide. It was a lesson about respect, effort, and the power of acknowledgment. There’s something powerful about having your name pronounced correctly, especially when it’s not the obvious reading. The feeling of being recognized is unbelievably gratifying.

“Dev” means “divine” in Sanskrit, reflecting its deep cultural significance for my parents and community. Pronouncing my name correctly isn’t a matter of just saying a word — it also recognizes the history and meaning behind it. Names carry weight attached to our identities, cultures, and personal histories, and for that, they should be respected.

At Harvard, mispronunciations happen all the time — whether during section roll call or at a club meeting. But just as often, there are people who pause, ask for clarification, and make the effort to get it right. From professors who double check before reading a name aloud, peers who gently correct each other, and friends who practice until it feels natural, small moments reinforce a campus culture of respect.

We can also take the start of this new semester to fill out the name pronunciation tabs in our Canvas profiles — a modern-day Post-it to help professors, TFs, and peers get our names right. And, if you still hear your friend’s name being pronounced incorrectly, save everyone the awkwardness: step in and gently correct it. That small gesture can make a world of difference.

In my case, it’s always made me happy — and often surprised — when I hear my name said correctly, especially on the first attempt. What might’ve seemed like a daunting combination of syllables is actually much simpler than it looks. When people take the time to learn and say my name correctly, it’s an acknowledgment not just of my name, but of me.

On a campus where ideas and identities converge from all corners of the world, getting someone’s name right is a small but powerful way to build a better community.

Dev S. Ahuja ’27, a Crimson Editorial Editor, is a Government concentrator in Eliot House.