When I attend Korean gatherings, I often see some interesting scenes. In the past, many people greeted each other with English names like "Jenny" or "Mike," but nowadays, younger folks are increasingly saying, "I'm Jungwoo" and using their Korean names instead.

Curious about this change, I looked into the background of why immigrants started creating English names. It turns out that this practice has a surprisingly long history.

Whenever the topic of immigrant names comes up, the Ellis Island myth often follows. You may have heard the story that immigration officials arbitrarily changed names that were hard to pronounce, but it turns out that this is not true.

At that time, the passenger lists already had names written down, and the inspectors merely compared them with the lists; they did not write new names. Ultimately, it was not the immigration officials who changed the names, but the immigrants themselves, mostly during the process of obtaining citizenship later on.

Research shows that from the 1820s to the early 20th century, the longer immigrant families stayed in the U.S., the more likely they were to give their children American names instead of foreign ones. Scholars interpret this as part of the assimilation process rather than just a matter of convenience.

In a way, it was an expression of their desire to learn a new culture and put down roots in this land through their names.

However, the speed of this change varied significantly by country of origin. Those from Norway, Sweden, and Denmark adopted American names the fastest, followed by Southern Europeans like Italians, while Russian and Finnish immigrants were relatively slower to do so.

Chinese immigrants had a slightly different reason for name changes. From 1882 to 1943, laws prohibiting Chinese immigration were in effect, and during that time, anti-Chinese sentiment led to violent incidents.

In that atmosphere, changing names was not just a matter of convenience but was closer to a survival strategy.

Economic reasons also cannot be overlooked. One study found that immigrant children with less exotic-sounding names attended school longer, had higher incomes, and lower unemployment rates.

In modern terms, this means that having a certain name could actually disadvantage someone right from the resume stage.

A similar trend existed among Koreans. For a long time, it was a common practice to create and use English names that were easier to pronounce instead of difficult Korean names in companies or schools.

While it was convenient, I honestly think this aspect is a bit ambiguous. Although the names were created for ease of pronunciation, using them might have felt like gradually erasing one's original identity.

Interestingly, there is a counter trend among Korean companies nowadays. More IT firms are encouraging employees to call each other by English names to foster a horizontal culture.

So while immigrants are reclaiming their original names, in Korea, everyone seems to be creating new English names, which is a strangely conflicting trend.

However, the atmosphere in the U.S. is definitely changing. According to a report by the New York Times in the mid-2000s, only 16 percent of the approximately 700,000 people who naturalized that year applied to change their names.

The majority chose to keep their original names.

Recently, there has been a further step where Asian Americans who once lived under English names are increasingly reclaiming their original names. The atmosphere has shifted to one where expressing one's identity as it is is seen as something cool.

The growing societal respect for diversity and the increasing voices on social media asking to be called by their proper names have also contributed to this change.

Even when writing names on Starbucks cups, more people are choosing to clearly state their original names instead of altering them to sound more English.

Personally, I welcome this trend. A name is the first piece that makes me who I am, and there's no need to hide it just because it's a bit hard to pronounce. I think confidently introducing myself with my original name is the real expression of self-assurance.