Hello, my name is Jarrett.

Not Jarett.

Or Jarret.

Or Jared, Jarred, or Jarrod. Or even Garrett.

And please, do yourself a favour by resisting the urge to call me “Carrot” or “Parrot.” It lost its humorous spark approximately after the 900th time.

Let me end my mini-rant by saying that I am usually good-natured about people misspelling my name initially. I know it is a less common spelling, encumbered with two Rs and two Ts, and thus, it is easy to make a mistake. I often joke with my close friends that a good test of friendship I could use is to ask my friends to spell my name correctly.

Well, why do I now stress that my name be spelled correctly?

Firstly, my name is fairly unique. I have only ever personally known one other person with a first name spelled exactly like mine. My mom explained to me that she arrived at “Jarrett” by combining the names “Garrett” and “Jared.” My parents took an unconventional route, at least by Chinese standards, in structuring my full name. My full name, as listed on my birth certificate, is “Soon Jarrett,” with “Jarrett” my first name, and “Soon” being my last name or family name. Most Chinese names are structured to have the family name first, followed by a two-part first name. A Christian name or English first name is occasionally added in front of the family name. An example of what a Chinese name might look like is: “Luke Tan Jin Wei.” My first name was also intentionally chosen to sound similar in both English and Mandarin, which is a fairly unusual feat on the part of my parents. My name in Mandarin would be pronounced “Jia Le,” resembling the pronunciation of “Jarrett.”

Secondly, it’s my name. It was a gift from my parents. It’s precious to me; it is part of my identity, as your name should be. It would be part of common decency and showing respect to someone. Getting someone’s name correct shows that you care about them as a person.

My name is also meaningful. Ancient names held a lot of meaning; children were often named after great ancestors, or after characteristics their parents hoped they would possess. While my mother loved the sound of “Jarrett” itself, my parents picked Chinese characters that resulted in my name meaning “Good news brings joy.” There is a story behind that name.

My mother went through a miscarriage two years before she conceived me. My parents were extremely glad when I was conceived and born, and even more so as there were obstacles along the way.

When my mom was pregnant with me, she experienced complications midway through the nine months. To cut a long story short, the pediatrician was unable to detect my heartbeat over two visits, leading him to pronounce me dead. He advised my mother to schedule a time to remove the dead body. In the midst of their uncertainty, my parents chose to wait, pray for God’s intervention and obtain a second opinion a week or two later from a different doctor. To their relief, the second doctor detected a heartbeat, and pronounced the baby, me, fine.

My sister and I were both born via Caesarean section. My mother rarely speaks of it, but she went through great pain during our births. I can only imagine what went through their minds when their firstborn child was born.

“Soon Jarrett.” Good news brings joy. It speaks not only of the joy they experienced, but also the joy of God that they hoped I would bring to others.

This is my name.

This is my mission.

This is my story.