Father’s Day: Why I Changed My Last Name

hello my name is

What’s your first and last name?  Jonathan Ng. That’s spelled N-G. N like Nancy and G like George. And it’s pronounced like king, but without the k.

Since I was a kid, every time someone asked me to identify myself, I would rattle off the spelling of my last name. On occasion, I’d even copy my dad’s M.O. and throw in Nancy and George for safe measure. You learn to do these things quickly when you hear your parents on the phone, repeating tag lines after their last name. Or when you get puzzled looks from your teachers when they try to read your last name on the first day of school. Spelling and pronouncing my last name made it easier for everyone. It was efficient and anticipatory (my Chinese parents would be proud). But doing these things can only go so far.

Despite anything that I might say, I cannot hide the fact that my last name points back to my heritage and culture. Like so many other Americans from non-European backgrounds, my sovereign foundations are hardwired into my being and reflected in my skin, my person, and my name.

At times, people can choose to overlook my difference. That my last name distinguishes me as Chinese can be quickly passed over (Colorblind narrative). On other occasions, my difference can serve as a catalyst for celebration among friends and neighbors. Whether our shared experiences of diversity move past the superficial, though, often remains the ongoing question and invitation for each of us.

2 Minutes in My Shoes

When I was recently at the store trying to exchange a wrong-sized lightbulb, I experienced another approach to difference, one that shrouds itself in mainstream American expectations and the assumption that white is right.

As I walked up to the counter, I explained why I wanted to make an exchange. In customary fashion, the Lowe’s cashier lady asked for my name and contact to process my request. After spelling out my last name to her, I expected a brief silence, a quick line about how interesting my last name is, or maybe some surface-level chit-chat.

Instead, I got this:

Oh…. Huh! That’s so…You would think there’d be a vowel. There needs to be a vowel in there. I mean, I don’t get it, we’re in America.
And if you’re going to live here, you should just spell it the way the English language is supposed to work. I don’t understand why…

The Lowe’s cashier lady keeps going. I force a smirk and shake my head ever so slightly. Ignorance I can handle, but when my sense of belonging and being are called into question, we’re trudging in something much more nefarious. For a moment, I feel like I’m back in grade school again. I breathe and count to 3. But my mind has already kicked into overdrive…

I can’t believe she just said that.
Oh right, I’m not in downtown Austin.
…And she’s still talking.
Should I play this one off? Or should I call her out? Is it even worth it?

I remind myself that I still need her to give me a new light bulb. The smirk turns into a forced smile. But behind my constructed exterior, something inside of me burns. It’s been a long couple of years for so many POCs (people of color). I’m angry, and I’m tired. And all I can muster up in the moment is a sarcastic retort: “Yeah – I guess you can blame it on the people who named me.”

….And there’s that other last name….what is it … N-G-U-Y-something. That’s even worse – they pronounce it win.

Are you serious?

I try another tactic. Having just welcomed our first baby into the world, I just don’t have the energy for a full-on confrontation. So I opt for something more indirect: “Yeah – that can be tough. The English language can be tricky. There’s so many grammar rules. I used to be an English teacher for middle school in Dallas actually. And it was so annoying because I’d teach my students a rule, but then immediately, I’d have to teach them all the exceptions to the rule.”

Oh yeah – I guess that’s true. English is kinda tricky. There are a lot of rules that we just break….(awkward pause). Alright, well, we’re good to go. Here’s your new lightbulb. 

Finally.


Enduring Evil

Every time I experience racism this blatantly, I’m reminded of the lie that I’m less-than, that I don’t belong. I’m reminded of how I must fight against the powerful, dismantling forces of division, even as I struggle to love the ones perpetuating them. I’m also reminded that I can’t do this on my own. I need you. We need you.

This kind of racism shows up frequently enough in my life that I’m no longer surprised when it does. It’s what I grew up with, and it continues to remain a part of my experience. But my familiarity with this entrenched evil does not make it unimportant. The beliefs of this lady are not trivial. Unexamined, they can go on to fuel more tragedies and hate crimes that we’ve seen far too much of. Unchecked, they can rob people of their God-given glory and lie dormant within our communities.

For our communities to move forward in unity and equity, we need to recognize the lingering vestiges of white supremacy within our organizations. We need to repent of our complicity. We need to acknowledge the failings of colorblind narratives and theologies. We need people of all backgrounds and colors to step up, to use whatever power and influence they have to combat the ugly sin of racism.  When we begin to take these steps, I believe we will see the stronghold of structural racism being dismantled within us and also our communities.

But we have a long journey in front of us. Throughout this past week:

  • The Southern Baptist Convention struggled to pass a resolution denouncing the racism of the alt-right movement, and it only did so after extensive revisions.
  • The #PhilandoCastile ruling on Friday signaled yet another fissure in our society when it comes to race and justice.

Silence is no longer an option we can afford. 

A Choice in the Midst of Injustice

In a culture that only tenuously accepts us, difficult choices become our reality, and impossible situations become our norm.

With my baby daughter now in the world, there’s nothing more that breaks my heart than knowing that she will face the same things that I face. Don’t get me wrong – I’m an optimist by nature. But on this front, my optimism unquestionably yields to the sad reality that my difference, and hers, will not always be acknowledged and appreciated. Racism, both on the personal and systemic levels, is a part of this broken world that I’ve learned to endure and fight against.

I wish that all I needed to do is remind my daughter that Jesus loves her, that we love her.  I yearn for the kingdom to come in its fullness and make all things right. But in the here and now, I’ve had to learn how to cling onto the promise of Revelation 7:9 while also holding onto my present reality:

“After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands.” (Rev. 7:9)

News flash: Heaven won’t be colorblind. One day, we will celebrate, know, and enjoy each other’s differences as God intends. But until that day, I will keep striving to cultivate communities that live as a picture and preview of God’s coming kingdom. I will keep battling against the surface-level diversity that has shackled our imagination. Until that day, I will keep living in tension, making choices that I do not always like making. 

Changing my last name’s spelling is only the latest choice I’ve had to make. (Don’t worry – it wasn’t some split-second decision I made because of what happened at Lowe’s. It’s been an option for years, and ironically, we got it done a few weeks before all this happened. All that’s left is for the paperwork to be processed). The choice isn’t a great one. A change in my last name’s spelling only moves the needle slightly for my daughter. In the eyes of some, we will still be seen as perpetual foreigners.  This is the lived reality that so many POCs wrestle with, and it’s painful.

So why the spelling change? (hint: it’s not about making it easier for others)
As I teach my daughter how to courageously respond to a world that may not always value her whole being, I’ve also chosen to try and protect her, however marginally, from the injustices I’ve experienced. 

Showing Up

In pockets of our communities, racism runs rampant in our world today. It shows up in our everyday interactions, and it will show up in the way my daughter experiences the world. But racism goes far beyond interpersonal relationships. It also shows up in the structures of our institutions, our churches, and our communities. As a new father, all I can do is keep showing up, too – to pray, resist, call out, lament, teach, and hope, even when I don’t want to. Even when I don’t want to change my last name.

So that’s what I’ll do.

And the next time someone asks me to identify myself, I’ll say: Jonathan Eng. That’s spelled E-N-G.

Hopefully, when that happens, Nancy and George can stay home with their little one, Elmer. Hopefully, you’ll show up instead – to listen, to learn, and to advocate for a different world.

Happy Father’s Day.

 

 

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LGBT, Equality and Faith

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Hey bloggers,

I need your help, thoughts and input. I’ve been invited to speak to a Christian group about relating to the LGBT community. I know those two groups usually may not mesh together very well in our minds, but as I’m learning and exploring perspectives, I’d love to hear your thoughts and opinions, especially in light of the recent US Supreme Court hearings. Whether you identify as Christian (or another faith tradition), LGBT, heterosexual, etc., here are some questions:

  1. How have you been hurt or misunderstood by others (Christian, LGBT, etc.) who are different from you? What do you wish were different?
  2. How can faith and sexuality intersect, if at all?
  3. What are your thoughts, opinions and questions regarding the US Supreme Court hearings?
  4. How can the LGBT and Christian/faith communities better dialogue together?

Thanks!

Advent Reflection #1: Dishwashing

It’s humbling to know that Jesus, whose arrival two millennia ago came in the humble fashion of a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes, still comes to us in the ordinary and the mundane. This is the first year that I’m attempting to celebrate and observe Advent. I don’t particularly have a compelling reason to start now, except that I have witnessed God’s coming in so many ways leading up to the conclusion of 2012. As we celebrate Christ’s birth and patiently wait and hope for the Day when He comes to renew and restore all things, I hope these Advent reflections glorify God and encourage our faith.

One thing I’m growing to love about Advent is how it’s a time for us to celebrate how God shows up for his people. In my marriage, God has shown up in dishwashing. Yes, dishwashing! Here’s a little background: Growing up, I was the spoiled brat who loved using 10 cups a day. There was a cup for breakfast, a cup for afternoon snack, a cup for after the afternoon snack. You get the picture. But to the degree I unconsciously used cup after cup, I consciously hated washing them. I deemed dishwashing the worst of all household chores, and it was something that my brother and I left undone more often than not. My mom, being the gracious woman she is, washed those dishes day-in and day-out without complaint. It was her labour of love for us, her children, and through it, she modeled God’s sacrificial love for us.

Thankfully, I’m not that boy anymore. By His grace and especially since getting married, God has taken my brattiness and slowly transformed it into something that He molded in my mom so long ago – servanthood. Through the joyful crucible of marriage, He is putting to death my selfishness and raising up in me selflessness. He is teaching me that our marriage really isn’t about me. It’s not even about us. Instead, marriage is intended to be a reflection of Christ’s love to the Church. Just like Christ, the Servant-King, loved us and was (and is) ultimately for the other, even at the sacrifice of His very life (what great lengths Christ has traversed to love us!)we are to serve and love each other in Christ and be ultimately for the things of God in each other, dishwashing or otherwise. It’s only as we love God and others that we can begin to discover all of who He intends each of us to be. This is why marriage cannot be reduced to good feelings and romance. Of course, it includes those things, and they are very important. But far too often, we confuse them as being love’s foundation rather than love’s overflow.

It is beyond this blog post’s purpose to try to get at love’s foundation, but maybe we can just start with 1 Corinthians 13: 4-8: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

Dishwashing has become a chore I’ve learned to enjoy in marriage; it’s a way for me to love Gloria. I didn’t always think this way (and to be honest, sometimes, I still complain and procrastinate). But somehow God keeps showing up in this ordinary and mundane task: I’ve learned to use 2-3 cups a day now – having to wash and dry them has a funny way of producing conservative efforts in me…. I’ve also discovered more of what it means to love without any real gain for myself. In Christianity, we call this agape love, or the love of God that meets us for no other purpose but to be ultimately for us. Isn’t that an amazing thought? Our God is for us! Dishwashing even serves as an act of worship as I remember how Christ has washed me clean and continues to renew me.

I still have a long journey ahead of me as His Spirit molds me more into the image of Christ, but I’m grateful that I’ve witnessed Christ in something as simple as dishwashing. As we wait for the coming of Jesus, let’s remember and recall how He has shown up in each of our lives.

dishes

For a free Advent devotional, check out John Piper’s Good News of Great Joy, click here or use the links below:

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