Ten Chi'n 's poem Translucent Jade, begins

"My grandfather made me a gift when I was born,
I used it for a while until another gift, my mother's
Flashed in view"

The poet goes on to say how, having been given a new name in Australia, ostensibly to fit in, she rediscovered her old name, which she "retrieved from its silence." The rest of this luminous poem is a brief exploration of rediscovery on many levels. It is probably typical of the migrant experience, of covering up the 'old country' so as not to make a fuss, not to be noticed. My own wife chose the new name Ann when she came from Thailand, even though Arunee is both simple and lovely. I understand the impulse, though it is baleful indeed that people should feel compelled to change their identity, their precious birthright.

By way of a meandering road this reminds me of my first trip to Japan as a teacher. I was very surprised to find, upon checking the class lists, that many of the students had "Westernised" Christian names. I became even more surprised and not a little alarmed when I found out that the previous teachers had arbitrarily given students these names, because they were "too hard to pronounce."

So the first change I made to school policy was the abolition of this ridiculous imposition and the reinstatement of the student's real names, which was enacted with all discretion. After all, how much harder is it to say Keiko, than Katie? The small effort involved is worth it, to the benefit of all.