Continuing to Mispronounce "Kamala" Is Painful For People of Color

Since Kamala Harris was introduced to the national stage as Joe Biden's running mate in 2020, she's faced constant mispronunciations of her name. Over the years, Donald Trump has deliberately mispronounced — and mocked — the vice president's name, and it's only persisted during his campaign for reelection. Incorrectly saying her name — with intent — is not only extremely rude, but also simply racist.

For people of color and immigrants with ethnic names, this disrespect is all too familiar. The purposeful mispronunciation, coupled with the constant questioning of her identity, is a sad attempt at othering Harris, who's Indian and Black. Pronounced "Comma-la," Harris's Hindu means lotus flower in Sanskrit.

While Harris has only expressed pride in her name and Indian culture, even having her nieces give an adorable lesson on pronouncing "Kamala" at the Democratic National Convention in August, the constant attacks on her name are particularly frustrating and painful for people of color.

My name is Yerin. It's pronounced YEH-rin — like Erin with a "Y," as I tell people — and it was chosen by my late grandfather. In Korean, "Ye" means polite and respectful, while "Rin" is defined as bright, in both senses of the word. As an adult (and a journalist with bylines), I'm grateful to have a beautiful, unique name that holds such meaning. But for years, I struggled to take pride in both my Korean heritage and ethnically Korean name.

Growing up, I always dreaded the first day of school, distressed by teachers who had mispronounced my name, though not purposely, and not bothered to learn how to properly do so. I remember coming home crying to my dad after one particular first day in middle school, asking him why my parents had given me such a "difficult" name. Despite my dad's patient explanations, I started brainstorming white-sounding names that I could adopt once I got a fresh start in college — a common practice for many POC and immigrants in an effort to assimilate into America. I vowed to give my future children explicitly white-sounding names, so they wouldn't have to deal with yet another barrier to be seen as American.

Luckily, my dad discouraged me from going by another name, and as an adult, I've grown to become proud of my Korean heritage, and proud to identify as both Korean and American. But even so, I'm acutely aware of the visible discomfort people face pronouncing my name or the assumptions they might make about my identity. There's countless studies that show the negative impact of having an ethnic name. According to one study from Harvard Business School in 2017, Black and Asian applicants who "whitened" their résumés to remove any references to their race had better success scoring interviews.

Sure, there's well-intentioned folks who have accidentally mispronounced Harris's — and my — name. But when the mispronunciations are repeated, or worse, become deliberate, they're microaggressions.

I own my name proudly, but there are times I feel embarrassed or like a burden when introducing myself at the doctor's office, interviewing for a job, and especially meeting new people in social settings. Sometimes, I don't even bother, introducing myself as "Kim" when ordering a coffee or takeout. I often have to remind myself I'm not responsible for others' inherent racism.

I refuse to allow my name to be associated with such negativity and discomfort, and refuse to let racists take away my identity. As one of the highest leaders in our nation, Harris certainly deserves the respect of having her name pronounced correctly, and so do I. Our names are our identities, and no one can diminish them.

Yerin Kim (she/her) is the features editor at PS, where she writes, assigns, and edits feature stories and helps shape the vision for special projects and identity content across the network. Originally from Seoul and currently based in New York City, she's passionate about elevating diverse perspectives and spreading cultural sensitivity through the lenses of lifestyle, style, wellness, and pop culture. A graduate of Syracuse University's Newhouse School, she has over six years of experience in the women's lifestyle space.