Role call was always my biggest nightmare in school.

While all the other kids had simple names that fit in my teacher's mouths so easily, my name caused a look of panic before they changed its pronunciation so it was easier to say. And when I corrected them, they rolled their eyes and returned to whatever butchered pronunciation they had invented. Thus I was left to swallow the altered version of a name that my parents had so carefully crafted the day I was born.

When I finally found the guts to correct all of my teachers as politely as I could, I was told that I would just have to accept the 'Americanized' version of my name because it was easier for everyone. But that wasn't what I wanted. I grew to be very protective of my name, introducing myself with a short nickname because being 'jo' was easier than hearing my name destroyed by the mouths of people who couldn't be bothered to learn how to say it correctly.

For the longest time most people in my life believed this really was my name, until one day they finally asked what it stood for. When I explained what my whole name is and why I prefer to use a nickname, they became offended and shocked that I would say something so culturally inconsiderate. "Well I can say your name!" they would say, before trying to contort their tongue to roll my 'r' and twist their lips to form the other misplaced letters in my name. Eventually they gave up, and said "We'll stick with Jo. That's easier. Your parents must have been creative".

To this I say, no. They weren't.

There are thousands of people walking around this country with my name, who have probably faced the same battles I have. And a billion more people with different names who are also facing the struggle of others white-washing the names their parents so carefully chose to reflect their cultures and histories.

My name means an abundance of light, or joy, a combination of the Spanish names Jose and Marisol. My father chose it to honor the first Puerto Rican woman to win Miss Universe, Marisol Malaraet Contreras, and as a nod to his own name. I spent my entire childhood arguing with him about how horrible my name was and how when I turned 18 the first thing I would do would be to change my name. I was going to just be Jo for the rest of my life because that was easier. My father and mother would shake their head at me, trying to convince me of the value my name had and how it honored my culture. But I didn't care, because my teachers and peers would never be able to pronounce it and so I was stuck in this cultural limbo.

It wasn't until recently, after hearing Uzo Aduba's explanation of her experience with having a culturally diverse name that I realized just how wrong I was for ever wanting to change the name I was blessed with. When she asked her mother if she could use a simpler name than her own, her mom replied "If they can learn to say Tchaikovsky and Michelangelo and Dostoyevsky, they can learn to say Uzoamaka". How right she was.

Our country is full of unique and interesting people from all walks of life. We have somehow managed to weave names like 'Kardashian' and 'Khalifa' into our day to day conversations, yet have chosen to 'Americanize' the names of our coworkers, peers, and friends.

While I understand that it may be difficult or uncomfortable to form unique sounds to create their name, it is also much more meaningful for that person when you give an honest attempt rather resorting to deeming it 'creative' or 'foreign'. I would much rather have someone ask me what I am comfortable being called than to give me an altered version of my name so that it is comfortable for them.

Our families went through so much to get us where we are at. Regardless of whether it was difficult or not, they came to a country that wasn't theirs and built a life for us. They bestowed us with beautiful names honoring our cultures, our heritage, our ancestors and for that we should be grateful. We should not allow ourselves to succumb to those who mispronounce our names so they fit better in their mouths.

So to those I introduce myself to, please do not be offended when I tell you 'That's not my name" and correct your pronunciation. My name is a gift, and should be treated as such.