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This past Monday was a red-letter day. I received a treasure trove of emails from folks who read my blog and watch my Stairwell Teatro Series. Few things are more gratifying than hearing from you. Maria in Tucson writes, “this weekend we learned one of our nieces is expecting a girl. So I went to one of my favorite websites (amightygirl.com) for gift ideas. I saw this book, ‘My Name is Maria Isabel.’ If only I’d had such books when I was growing up . . . oh well, I’m so pleased to know they now exist. The book stood out to me for the topic is timely to your activist art and wanted to share.” Mil gracias, Maria. So . . . I immediately visit the website and like what I see. A wide selection of books, music, films, toys for children of various ages. And it’s truly multicultural and international in scope. I’m also impressed that the section on parenting addresses such important topics as body image, child sexualization, gender research, adoption, children with disabilities, LGBTQ parenting, and many others. The one disappointment is that most purchases link to Amazon. Alas. Have a look at what amightygirl.com has to offer. I love supporting writers of diverse backgrounds and I searched for, but did not find, Wendy Diaz’ book, The Secret of My Hijab, at amightygirl.com. I met Wendy several years ago while working at New America Media. This children's book was illustrated by Wendy's son, Uthman Guadalupe, 13. It's a lovely book and makes a wonderful gift for families with young children. Wendy is co-founder of Hablamos Islam which provides educational materials and resources about the Islamic religion and culture in Spanish, and is also the Spanish Content Coordinator at Islamic Circle of North America. She has published 10 children’s books. I also highly recommend Wendy’s book De Puerto Rico to Islam With Love, a collection of poetry about identity and faith. Born in Puerto Rico to a Catholic family, her father was a career military man and Wendy's family lived in bases throughout the United Stages. At age 20 she converted to Islam. Check out her author's page (yes at Amazon) here. You can also read Wendy's journalism posts at Latino Muslim Reporter: La Voz Latina del Islam here. Until meeting Wendy, I knew zero Muslim Latinos. It is estimated that there are approximately 265,000 Latinos in the US who identify as Muslim. I got several other emails on Monday as described in Episode 7 of my Stairwell Teatro series. One attached a newspaper clipping from a Miss Manners column. The issue of family or friends’ unwillingness to make an effort to learn the names of important people in our lives is, sadly, a much too common theme. Julie’s email had the briefest of messages: “The issue is everywhere once you start to look for it. Thank you.” Thank YOU, Julie for sending along. Finally, I got two emails about the NYT’s Sunday story The Mrs. Files, https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/15/arts/mrs-women-identity.html, an interesting piece about woman’s identity in the world being more than a one-dimensional story about who she marries. Maya Angelou’s quote can guide each and every one of us when it comes to saying people’s names. “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.” Thanks so much for your emails and texts, and your comments on social media when I post stories or videos. You -- my global research partners -- are very much a part of each story. Gracias.

The name Xavier has multiple correct pronunciations. But unless you’ve heard Xavier say his name or someone who knows tells you how it is pronounced, you can’t be certain. It could be any of these three options. So if you are mistaken when you say it it's totally understandable. And there may be Xaviers out there who say their name yet another way. My friend Ana's spouse and son are named Xavier. They pronounce it Sa-vier or shortened it is Sah-vee, very pleasing and melodic. She told me that's how they pronounce it in El Salvador, her country of origin. I have also known several Ex-a-viers. Reminder: in Spanish, the letter "h" is silent as in -- hola (hello) which sounds exactly like ola, which means wave as in the waves of the ocean. More generically ola can mean surge or movement. Spanish keeps it interesting by giving the "h" sound to two letters "j" and "x." Examples, jalapeños, José, or Mexico (Meh-he-co). Do you get irritated when you hear names mispronounced? Some folks don't unless it's their own name, and some say even that doesn't bother them. Not me, it bugs me big time. I’m watching the local news when I hear this: "Today, California Attorney General EX-a-vier Becerra, sued the Trump Administration over its policy . . . blah, blah, blah." I tuned out within a flash of hearing Ex-a-vier. For me, it's like nails on chalkboard. Wha? How can she not know how to say the name of the state's Attorney General? Well, whatever, she doesn’t, so I set out to teach her. I Google her and immediately find her email address at the local network affiliate. I write her a polite note telling her that the AG pronounces his name HA-vier, providing that phonetic guide. I explain that I know him personally and this is how he says it. She writes back shortly after coming off the air with a genuinely warm response. She did not know she was mispronouncing it and no one had brought it to her attention. She thanks me and says moving forward, she'll get it right. Mission Accomplished. I appreciated her openness to receiving this. One of my favorite mantras popped into my head: "we don't know, what we don't know." But someone around her should know -- they are in the news business -- and this Xavier Becerra is often in the news. Before being named California's Attorney General, he served in Congress for 24 years and led the Hispanic Caucus for several years. Surely more seasoned newsroom veterans know his name. Maybe they never said it when discussing the lineup of that evening’s news stories, The incident reminds me of the importance of diversity in the newsroom. When there are few or no editors, producers, and reporters from the communities where these “ethnic” names originate, you can be sure they won’t know how we say them. And you can also be sure that the issues that affect our communities are likely also getting short shift. Although we comprise a huge swath of our state’s population, Latinos just aren’t in the newsroom in numbers one would expect. It’s a well-documented fact that newsroom employees are less diverse than U.S. workers overall. I loved these images from the Columbia Journalism Review article, The Disparity Times: 17% of US Newsroom Staff Is Not White (Fall 2018). “The structural forces that contribute to the problem are well known and largely reflect how race and privilege intersect. The main entry points into the profession—unpaid internships and journalism schools—tend to favor people who come from wealthy backgrounds. Many jobs are never posted; hires are made through existing networks, in which people tend to affiliate and empathize, with those like themselves. When people of color do manage to get hired, they find a lack of formal mentorship and they are infrequently promoted into management positions. When job cuts come along—in the past 10 years, the newspaper workforce has been sliced in half—minorities are often among the first to go.” Got some time on your hands? Want to read the article, click here. So much work needs to be done to give our kids the opportunities they deserve. The Covid-19 pandemic has only made more evident the enormous disparities in income, education, health, access to safety and safety nets, between the haves and the have nots. We gotta keep working to make these much-needed changes. When I get discouraged, something else quickly reminds me of the positive changes I’ve seen in the past decades, and the second vignette in Episode 6 of this Stairwell Teatro Series is about one such positive change. When Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger appointed Appellate Judge Tani Cantil-Sakauye to the post of Chief Justice of the California Supreme Court, lawyers were scrambling to learn the correct pronunciation of her name, especially those who argue before the Cal Supreme Court. This picture of the Chief Justice brings me joy, and seeing a picture of the entire California Supreme Court keeps me smiling for days. Change is inevitable and sometimes those changes are huge. And those changes happen at the ballot box. Who gets appointed to these judgeships at the state level depends on Governors and at the federal level on the President and the US Senate. YOUR vote matters immensely, and never more than this November. When I arrived in San Francisco in 1980 to work at the Mexican American Legal Defense and Educational Fund, the California Supreme Court was led by its first woman Chief Justice, Rose Bird, who was also the first woman appointed to our state Supreme Court, and the ONLY woman serving at that time. Justice Wiley Manuel, also on the court was the first African American on California’s Supreme Court. The remaining five justices back in 1980 were white men. (Btw, it was at MALDEF where I met Xavier Becerra when was a summer law clerk when I worked there). But back to the California Supreme Court. Up until two years ago, women were a majority of the justices and this was the case for several years. Wha? Yes for a period of time there were no white men on the California Supreme Court. When Justice Kathryn Werdegar retired, that seat was filled by Justice Joshua Groban. Who can forget US Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg's famous words: “When I'm sometimes asked when will there be enough [women on the Supreme Court] and I say, 'When there are nine,' people are shocked. But there'd been nine men, and nobody's ever raised a question about that." I have great confidence that the life experiences of justices who hail from different backgrounds are likelier to yield better decisions whether they are considering cases involving fraud in financial institutions, race and gender discrimination, environmental regulation, access to health care, or criminal justice. What does the Supreme Court look like in your state? California's Chief Justice hails from farm working families who toiled the agricultural fields of California and the sugar cane and pineapple plantations of Hawaii. She is married to a Japanese-American whose career was spent as a police officer in Sacramento. Both she and her spouse were educated in the public schools and universities of our great state. This Chief Justice's educational background is quite a contrast to the fact that most folks selected for these high-level judicial positions were educated in Ivy League schools. It’s no surprise that Chief Justice Cantil-Sakayue's annual State of the Judiciary delivered in March 2020 reflected on the importance of using the courts as “Places for Social Justice.” Click here for more info on her remarks. Thank you for watching my Stairwell Teatro Series and reading my blog, if you enjoy them, please share with your friends and continue to send me your comments and ideas for future episodes. It's now been two months since the seriousness of Covid-19 really hit home. Even though some areas of the country are starting to open up, let us proceed with great caution. By staying the course we reduce the losses, every death and illness caused by Covid-19 brings heartache and extraordinary pain to the families and friends directly affected. So please let's avoid unnecessary trips outside of our homes and when we must leave home, wearing masks is essential and is most places required. Let's keep washing our hands often. Be kind and considerate to all our essential workers, and generous to those in need. The safety of our nation (and the whole world) depends on each of us doing our part to stop the spread of Covid-19.

Looking for a quick binge-watching adventure this weekend. Check out the Stairwell Teatro page on my website, where you can binge-watch my entire series in one sitting, five episodes. Click here. Since each episode is between three to five minutes, you'll be done in under a half-hour. AND . . . if you want to read the accompanying blogs (I post a blog along with each episode), that will add another 25 minutes. So guilt-free bingeing experience in less than one hour. Money-back guarantee that you will enjoy it. For those of you who have already seen some or all the episodes, gracias. I appreciate hearing your reactions to this new story-telling venture. I love ALL y’all's emails and look forward to your name stories. Coming soon, I'm working on these stories: Hurricane Irma, Name Discrimination in employment, Barbra Streisand’s request to Tim Cook that Siri pronounce her last name correctly, Nick Names, and many many more topics. Have some ideas for future Teatro Episode? I wanna hear about that, so write to me at irmadherrera@gmail.com or via my website. Wishing all a good weekend. Here's the first episode.

Six long years. That’s how long it took for the Associated Press and the New York Times to respect Muhummad Ali’s wishes and call him by the name he took when he became a Muslim. People change names for a variety of reasons: many women (and a few men) change their last names when they marry and later when they divorce. Some folks change first names that reflect their gender identity, and laws are changing to make this process easier, which is a good thing. And many entertainers take on new names, but this is usually done early on in their careers before achieving wide-spread recognition. Navigating a name change is far more difficult for someone who is already a public figure, and Muhammad Ali paved the way for those who followed. It wasn’t just about his name, it was about the religion and the fact that he was a proud black man who didn't back down. When Kareem Abdul-Jabbar changed his name, the press was less hostile, but the experience had some similarities to Ali's. In a thoughtful opinion piece, Abdul-Jabbar speaks about his conversion to Islam and I include it here as it touches on issues I explore in my blog and the Stairwell Teatro episodes. It's about identity, respect, and social justice. Click here to read. When Cassius Clay changed his name to Muhammad Ali, he was already quite famous. The 18-year old won the Gold Medal at the Summer Olympics in Rome in 1960. He was 22 when he dethroned the Heavyweight Boxing Champion, Sonny Liston, considered one of the finest boxers ever. Ali’s face had been on the cover of many major national magazines and he had appeared in hometown newspapers, big and small, all over the United States. Not only was he a great boxer, but Ali was also a handsome, charismatic, and a proud trash-talking showboat. He was a magnificent quote machine, who often spoke in rhyme. Among my favorites: "Float like a butterfly, Sting like a bee. His hands can't hit What his eyes can't see." "I've wrestled with alligators, I've tussled with a whale I done handcuffed lightning And throw thunder in jail. You know I'm bad. Just last week, I murdered a rock, Injured a stone. Hospitalized a brick. I'm so mean, I make medicine sick." ~Muhammad Ali Cassius Clay shocked the sports world when he announced he had joined the Nation of Islam, and changed this name. This was just days after winning his first Heavyweight Title. He told the press that Cassius Clay was a slave name. He didn’t pick it and he didn’t want it. Moving forward he was to be addressed as Muhammad Ali, a name that meant Beloved of God. The name was given to him by Elijah Muhammad. Clay was named after his father, who in turn had been named after Kentucky politician and abolitionist Cassius Marcellus Clay. That Clay, who was from a wealthy Kentucky family, heard William Lloyd Garrison give a speech at Yale and that led him to oppose slavery, which made him very unpopular in his home state. He was friends with Abraham Lincoln and served Lincoln’s Administration as the Representative to Russia and helped the United States acquire the state of Alaska from Russia. Muhammad Ali’s ancestors had ancestral ties to the plantation owned by the Cassius Marcellus Clay family. They had lived there in the 1800s. But I digress. The Heavyweight Champion's wishes were disregarded by the press and other boxing opponents as well who continued calling him Cassius Clay. In a famous Heavyweight Title Fight, Muhammad Ali punished and taunted Ernie Terrell calling out, “What’s My Name?” while landing brutal angry punches. The fight became known as the What’s My Name Fight. There was one notable exception among the press. Howard Cosell, a loquacious lawyer turned sportscaster respected Ali’s wishes and addressed him by his chosen name. The two hyper talkative men were fixtures on television, jousting and insulting each other, and became life long friends. Ali was famous not just as a boxer but also for refusing to serve in the US Military at the height of the Vietnam War. Although he reported to the Induction Center in Houston, Texas as commanded by law, he refused to be drafted because it violated his religious convictions. He also made clear that he had no quarrel against the Vietcong. “My conscience won’t let me go shoot my brother, or some darker people, or some poor hungry people in the mud for big powerful America,” he told the press. “And shoot them for what? They never called me n-----, they never lynched me, they didn’t put no dogs on me, they didn’t rob me of my nationality, rape and kill my mother and father . . . Shoot them for what? How can I shoot them poor people? Just take me to jail.” His refusal to serve in the military came with a very heavy price tag. He was immediately stripped of his Heavyweight title and banned from boxing for three years. Two months later he was convicted of draft evasion, a felony, and sentenced to five years in prison and fined $10,000. He was allowed to remain free on bail while he appealed his case. Ali was viewed as a radical and polarizing force by many in this country. Ali preached black pride and never shied away from calling out racism and criticizing the United States for its many shortcomings. “Why should they ask me to put on a uniform and go ten thousand miles from home and drop bombs and bullets on brown people in Vietnam while so-called Negro people in Louisville are treated like dogs and denied simple human rights?" The views about Muhammad Ali changed over time in our country, probably in no small part because the Vietnam War became unpopular, and because the racism that Ali called out became more and more evident to all Americans as the civil rights movement brought greater attention to the inequities and injustices, Ali pointed out. He became one of the most celebrated and recognized people on the planet. He used his fame to raise awareness about issues that mattered to him, among them civil rights and Parkinson's disease. He was a beloved activist, humanitarian, and philanthropist. Muhammad Ali, The Greatest, died in 2016. Click below to watch Episode 6 – Float Like a Butterfly. If you enjoy this Stairwell Teatro Series, please share it with friends. To see a beautiful tribute to Muhammad Ali by Sports Illustrated, click here.

Being asked to say your name in English is a bit jarring. Equally astounding was a law librarian (my supervisor at a part-time job during my first year in law school) asking me how I would say the name Granville Cleveland in Spanish. Mr. Cleveland was one of the other librarians. I wondered why someone’s name would need translating. “It’s his name,” I explained, “and If I were speaking Spanish and introducing him, I’d simply say, te presento mi amigo, Granville Cleveland.” The exchange was much more interesting than that . . . but I’ll leave that for a future Stairwell Teatro Episode. If someone were to ask Jaime Cuervo to say his name in English would he say, Jim Crow? Take my name Irma. My quick and dirty research says it derives from the Germanic irmin, war goddess. The Herrera surname originates in Spain’s regions with mines rich in iron ore, where blacksmithing was common, so I suppose Herrera could translate as Smith. When asked to say my name in English do introduce myself as War Goddess Smith? The history of conquest and oppression has stripped people of their language, their culture, their very names. In Roots, Kunta Kinte is beaten within an inch of his life for refusing to call himself Toby, the name he is given by the slave masters. Less extreme forms of coercion existed throughout the Southwest where Anglo teachers and administrators imposed English names on Mexican-American students. Juanita became Jane, Graciela was now Grace, Rodolfo was Rudy. We were also punished for speaking Spanish. There’s a wonderful short movie you can stream on HBO on this very theme: My Name is Maria De Jesus, by Marcella Ochoa. The movie is described as follows: “In 1950's Texas, Mexican American children were forced to abandon their Spanish language and culture. Thirty years later, one mother realizes the impact Americanization has on her child who is struggling to connect with her Latin heritage. Marcella Ochoa wrote, directed, and stars in this short film.” Click here to link to this movie. The right to our names, our languages, and our cultures is very much a social justice issue. A request to say one’s name in English is the subject of Episode 4. If you enjoy reading my blog and watching these mini-episodes, please share them with family and friends. If you are a subscriber to my blog, each new episode will be sent straight to your inbox. Muchas gracias. Here's Episode 4 - Say Your Name in English.

Today’s Stairwell Teatro Episode is about the Soul Queen of New Orleans: my namesake Irma Thomas, whose first name is pronounced Ur-ma. My parents gave me the Spanish language version where the first syllable is pronounced like "ir" in iridescent. While I'm quite insistent on how I’d like people to say my name, I also stand up for all the Urmas who use the English pronunciation. When I launched my mini-video storytelling series last week, I was not aware there was a performance group called The Stairwell Theater in New York City. Fortunately, I did not get a "cease and desist" letter from them. I learned this in a simple google search which I should have done before using the name. I've renamed mine the Stairwell Teatro Series and since most of my thinking is done in both English and Spanish, that seems a more fitting name. I was pleased to hear your feedback about the first two episodes; thank you for taking the time to watch. If you aren't a current subscriber to my newsletter, which will get the latest installment of a video or blog to your mailbox, please sign up to receive it via my website, irmaherrera.com, or by letting me know at irmadherrera@gmail.com. I imagine it will be many months before my one-woman show, Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name? will be back on stage, so in the meantime, I'm sharing stories about names directly with you via three to four-minute videos. Some vignettes are about the ways we show respect when we say a person’s name correctly, and other stories display the dismissiveness some folks encounter daily around their names, and some are just fun stories. I'm a big fan of Irma Thomas' song Time Is On My Side, and love both the Irma Thomas and Rolling Stones' versions. Irma was just 23 when she recorded that song. While touring in England in 1964, Mick Jagger and Keith Richard attended one of her shows in Manchester. In a conversation on the side of the stage, the Rolling Stones expressed their love of her song and told her they planned to record it as well. They did, and it was the Rolling Stones' first Top 10 hit in the United States. When they came on tour in the US with their BIG hit, the Stones invited Tina Turner to be their opening act, which understandably did not sit well with Irma. Time Is On My Side became a Rolling Stones classic immediately and Irma Thomas quit performing it. In 1992 Bonnie Raitt invited Irma Thomas to be part of Raitt's New Year's Eve show in New Orleans and encouraged her to start singing that song again. They sang Time Is On My Side in a duet that evening and Irma Thomas reintroduced her beautiful rendition. To get a fuller picture of how this impacted her early career, click here. In her long and distinguished career, Irma Thomas has recorded many songs and won her first Grammy (Best Contemporary Blues) in 2007 for After the Rain, a studio album recorded shortly after Hurricane Katrina extensively damaged her home and temporarily displacing her and her family. Note that in my video I say her home was destroyed, but in fact, the brick home was still standing, its interior completely destroyed. To read more on her reflections about Katrina and other hurricanes, and how she and other New Orleans musicians fared after the Hurricane Katrina, click here to read this American Public Media story. During the time of the Covid-19 pandemic, it is important we shelter in place, por favor, quedense en casa. If you must go out, wear a mask and gloves, and get some exercise and sunshine whenever you can. Continue to observe the necessary physical distance and keep any trips for essential errands (groceries/pharmacy) to a minimum. These measures will keep you and your family safe and protects vulnerable people in our communities. Thanks for watching this episode.

Someone you have just met tells you, politely, that you've mispronounced their name. What do you do? The most welcome response is, “thanks for telling me, can you say it again so I can get it right.” Too often, many of us with names that are not considered "real" American names hear something quite different. “Wong? It should be pronounced Wang, look at the spelling it’s W-A-N-G.” Joe Wang well knows the spelling of his last name, and he also knows that his family pronounces it Wong. Take his cue and say it as he does. I think we can all agree that it’s just as easy to say Wong as it is to say Wang. So if Joe tells you it’s Wong, that’s how you say it. It can be confusing; I get that. Take the last name Levine. Some folks pronounce it Lah-veen, others say Lah-vine. Is one wrong and the other right? No, they are just different versions of the same name. You say tomato, I say tomatoh, let’s call the whole thing off. Ever seen Saoirse on someone’s name badge? I wouldn’t know where to start on that beautiful Irish name. “In the words of the very notable actress Saoirse Ronan, who spent her childhood in Dublin and Co. Carlow, her name is pronounced ‘Sur-sha’, like ‘inertia’.” But this article (click here to read) explains that there are multiple pronunciations of this name in Ireland. “In Galway, however, you will likely hear ‘Sair-sha’, while in Northern Ireland, ‘Seer-sha’ is much more common. In another corner of Ireland, ‘Sor-sha’ might be the norm. It really is a matter of dialect.” My friend Paven who is of South Asian ancestry, and as American as apple pie, has heard many attempts at his name: PAY-van, Pave-in, Pah-VON. “It’s like oven with a P in front, it’s pronounced Poven.” Not hard, just need to remember and practice. If you can say oven, you can say Paven. When we are learning to read, we are taught to break a word down into syllables and to sound them out. So it’s natural that native speakers of English will give a word the sounds associated with the letters they are seeing. Our frame of reference for written language is rooted in our native tongue and the sound system associated with that language. We all have experience pronouncing a word in more than one way. take R-E-A-D, for example. I'm going to read a book this evening. Oh yes, I read the Murmur of Bees, last week and loved it. OK, let me get out of the weeds here . . . Getting a name wrong when you first meet someone gives you a pass. You can’t know until someone tells you. You will not be judged as a “bad person” for having said it the "wrong" way. A simple, “OK, thanks for telling me, can you help me say it correctly,” is all that's needed. But once someone tells you how they pronounce their name, it's on you to do your best to say it right. Ask if they have any tips that might be helpful (like oven with a P in front). And it's OK to ask someone to repeat their name and to say it more slowly. Here, however, are a few things, that you best stay away from. And you might be surprised how often people say these. Don’t you have a nickname? Your name is too hard, I just can’t say it. Can I call you something else? Don’t you have an English name? You should change your name to something people can say. Why are you so sensitive about people getting your name right? If you enjoyed Episode 2 of my Stairwell Theater Series or this blog, please share it with a friend. I plan to post two videos weekly. And remember during the Covid-19 pandemic, stay home, quedense en casa, and wash your hands often. If you must go out for essential errands, wear a mask and gloves. Stay safe, stay healthy. Your family and our whole world depend on each of us doing our part.

Introducing my new Shelter In Place Project, The Stairwell Teatro Series. We hear and read it everywhere. Quedate en casa, stay home, shelter in place. The Covid-19 Pandemic has most of the nation hunkered down, and that’s exactly where we need to stay for as long as necessary to protect the lives of our loved ones, and our entire planet. This pandemic is taking a huge toll, and it is falling more heavily among the African American and Latino communities. The racial disparities that define our lives and opportunities are right before our eyes, and we must stare right back at them, and do everything in our power to address these inequities. Our deepest gratitude to all the essential workers who are out there providing medical care, harvesting our food, stocking store shelves, and delivering mail and packages of all sorts. They are risking their lives for us. Show your appreciation in whatever ways you can -- tipping generously and above all extending kindness and courtesy to these dedicated workers. Super important that you stay home if you are not an essential worker. Por Favor. And if you must go out, wear your mask and gloves and keep your physical distance. I look forward to being back on stage, quien sabe cuando, whenever the theaters open up again. In the meantime, I will be sharing short video clips (under 5 minutes) from my very own performance venue: The Stairwell Theater at my home in Northern California. These will be stories and vignettes about names, but they are much more than that. These stories are about othering and belonging, and showing respect to each other. Click below and have a look.Let me know what you think. I’d love to hear your name stories and with your permission I might share them with my viewers. You can write to me at irmadherrera@gmail.com. Or you can subscribe to my blog on my website, irmaherrera.com.

April 1, 2020, was Census Day, the official beginning of the decennial count. Our nation has been conducting a census for 230 years, it was first done in1790. Every ten years, an effort is made to count every person living in the United States. If you haven’t yet completed your online form, there's still time to do so, but don't put it off. It’s more important than ever, that everyone is counted. There are many unknowns as to how the census will be conducted in light of the Covid-19 pandemic. For all us of fortunate enough to have computers and internet access, the task is simple. Log on to the official website and complete the form for yourself and your household. Everyone should have received information by mail, providing what you need to complete your census forms. Even if you have misplaced that piece of mail or never got it, it’s easy enough. Here is one of many interesting articles with useful how-to information: https://www.vox.com/recode/2020/3/12/21168139/2020-census-online-how-to I completed the forms for our family the first week that Northern California’s six Bay Area Counties were Shelter In Place. I decided that each day I would have at least one tangible task completed. Answering the census questions is straight-forward. Is Irma D Herrera of Hispanic, Latino or Spanish ancestry? That’s simple enough to answer but it also got me to reflect on the names and labels adopted by and or assigned to different groups, neutral and derogatory. Think for a minute of the racial slurs you know. YES, all of them, for our own groups, and for others. There’s a scene in my play where I list all many names I've heard white people call Mexican-Americans. When I first say beaners – there’s often a few laughs, and as I add other names -- cucarachas, greasers -- the discomfort is palpable, and the audience grows very silent. I’ll spare you the full litany of names. If you saw my play you have experienced this for yourself. If you are interested in learning more about racial slurs and their known (or likely derivation) look no further, click here for The Racial Slurs Data Base. It is extremely eye-opening to read these obnoxious and odious terms, many of which were unfamiliar to me. There is even an alphabetical listing to make it easier to look up slurs directed at particular groups. Although called “racial” many of the slurs are specific to people from countries of origin whose populations are recognized as whites in this country. Back to the census. My friend Bill from San Antonio called last week: “I’m filling out my census form and I’m stumped. The Hispanic Origin question, that was easy. But the race question, how did you answer that?” I tell Bill that I think it’s the first time the Census has included the word Chicano as a designation for people of Mexican origin, and since I strongly identify as Chicana, I gladly checked that option. If I’m wrong, and Chicano has appeared before, one of you dear readers will let me know. The Census form notes that For this census, Hispanic origins are not races. Hispanic origin can be viewed as the heritage, nationality, lineage, or country of birth of the person or the person’s parents or ancestors before arriving in the United States. People who identify as Hispanic, Latino, or Spanish may be ANY race (CAPS added by me). I hear a sheepish and tentative quality in Bill’s voice: “for race, did you check white?” “I did,” I tell him, “for the first time, usually I just put other. But this time I checked all the appropriate boxes, White, Native and Other. “ And in the area that allows further explanation for “Other,” I noted that most Chicanos are a mix of people with ancestry in the Iberian Peninsula who colonized the Americas and who mixed, usually by force, with indigenous folks whom they subjugated. As I’m typing away it feels somewhat silly, as I imagine a computer simply looking for buzz words, and here I am writing a brief discourse on colonization. Hispanic, Hispano, Latino, Latina, Latinx, aargh, which one to use? Latinx seeks to be the all inclusive gender-neutral identifier for anyone whose ethnic background has roots in Latin America. Some embrace Latinx with great zeal, even to the point of expressing hostility to those who reject the use of the term for themselves or generally. There have been heated exchanges on social media and at universities, often as it relates to the naming or renaming of ethnic studies programs. Should Chicano Studies call itself Latinx Studies? While the use of Latinx is popular among academics and the younger well-educated, particularly in college campuses, it is not the term that most of us gravitate towards. Maybe someday it will be, pero quien sabe? I felt that way about the term “Hispanic,” and I remember the very moment I saw it so clearly. I was at a conference and a keynote speaker, a woman about my age, made the following statement: “As my Hispanic grandmother used to say . . . “ I had never met a Hispanic grandmother. Our abuelas were Mejicanas, Puerto Riquenas, Guatemaltecas or Cubanas – they were not Hispanics. The vast majority of Hispanos, Latinos, Latinx people typically have a strong identification with their family’s country of origin, no matter how far removed we have been from nuestros paises. I don’t love the term, Latinx, but I do find myself using it, as a shortcut to refer all mi gente, nuestra Raza, you know who you are. Yes, those of us who checked the box that asked if you or Hispanic, Latino, or Spanish ancestry. Once, a group of us were having lunch together in the conference room in our office when our co-worker, an African American colleague asked, “what do you people want to be called?” I know the “you people” sounds jarring, but in the context of our lunchtime conversation, it was not. Several of us were of Latinx origin (although the word Latinx was not yet in use). I suggested we answer her question by going around the room and letting everyone say how they identified. One said Colombiana, another Latina, one Mejicana, and I said Chicana. All of us were United States citizens and only one, the Colombian, was actually born in her country of origin and had become a naturalized United States citizen. Plenty of folks, particularly those in urban areas in California, NY, Illinois, Florida, Texas have parents with roots in different Latin American countries. I have friends with one parent who is Guatemalan and another Salvadoreño. A native-born Chicana marries a Puerto Rican or Ecuadoran or a Cuban. So the “what are you?” question (which you really shouldn’t ask) may not yield an easy answer. I am often told by friends who aren’t of the Hispanic persuasion that they feel insecure about which term to use when referring to my group and that they don’t want to offend. What term should they use? I feel for them. I find that many Texas family and friends are likelier to use Hispanic and that Californians prefer the term Latino. Not surprising given that so many people fled the civil wars in Central and Latin America in the Seventies and Eighties and gravitated to urban areas in California. Tejas and California are the two states with which I have closest ties. I’d be interested in hearing from Raza who live elsewhere, East Coast, Mid-West, the South? as to the term you prefer and wish that others would use when referring to our communities. The only guidance I can offer to those of you who aren't sure which term to use: Latino, Hispanic, Latinx, is to be open to the possibility that someone will tell you they prefer a different term. One of the reasons I love the term Raza which simply means our people rather than the literal “race” is that many of us immediately feel the warmth and kinship upon hearing that word. Raza encompasses all people who have roots in Spanish speaking countries and cultures. Latinos are from all racial groups and we are often of mixed racial ancestry We are blond and blue-eyed, indigenous and Asian in appearance. And some of us are Afro Latinos. We come in every shade and hue and our physical characteristics resemble the world. There are two paintings in our home, on opposite walls in our living room. The two girls piece we bought in Antigua, Guatemala, and the older woman is a painting we purchased in Chongqing, China. I think of the older Chinese woman as their abuelita, they look like family, yet they were painted by local artists from totally different parts of the world. Bill and I ended our Census 2020 conversation by comparing notes about our DNA results from the likes of 23 and Me and Ancestry.com. Our findings were quite similar. Mine was 42% Spain, 40% Indigenous American from Northern Mexico and South Texas, 3% European Jewish and 1-2% from places as diverse as Senegal, Turkey, Northern Europe, Ireland, Scotland, and Nigeria. The interesting thing about genetic testing and what I see in the two paintings in my home is that the history of migration and globalization is tens of thousands of years old. People have been coming and going as a result of famine and floods, wars and political upheaval, religious persecution and a desire to seek new fortunes. No matter that borders change and walls are built and torn down, globalization will continue. The Covid-19 pandemic is teaching us the importance of hard data. It is critical for us to know the number of people who live in our cities and counties, and in our state. Who are these folks, how old are they, what type of housing do they live in? Who is unsheltered, how many people are living in our jails, prisons and detention centers. The answers to these and other questions in the Census. And the Census determines the resources allocated for all types of services: schools, free lunch programs, fire and police, hospitals, community clinics. The Census data on race, reveals the racial disparities and access to services and outcomes. We are now seeing through this pandemic that these are matters of life and death. The filling out a form may seem unimportant at this moment, given the major disruptions and extreme hardships so many are facing. But our answers determine how electoral districts are drawn, how and if our voting rights are protected, and who gets elected and appoints federal judges and so much more. I am counting on YOU to complete your form. Please, everybody, let's all do our part.

Merriam-Webster’s Word of the Year for 2019 was the pronoun THEY and here's why. “It reflects a surprising fact: even a basic term—a personal pronoun—can rise to the top of our data. Although our lookups are often driven by events in the news, the dictionary is also a primary resource for information about language itself, and the shifting use of they has been the subject of increasing study and commentary in recent years. Lookups for they increased by 313% in 2019 over the previous year.” Earlier this year, the American Dialect Society named they as the word of the decade recognizing the plural pronoun's growing use as a singular form to refer to people with nonbinary gender identity. The winner was decided in a vote by the body's 350 members at their annual gathering. "People want to choose something that stands the test of time and sums up the decade as a whole," said linguist and lexicographer Ben Zimmer. Click here for more about this decision. Whoa. That is big and confirms the changes we have been witnessing. For several years now, folks have been letting us know their identifying pronouns. They’ve told us in their name tags: my preferred pronoun is they/them, in their email signatures, and in social media. And we’ve also been told in one-on-one conversations or at meetings and gatherings where people go around the room and introduce themselves. Earlier this week KQED Forum (San Francisco’s NPR Affiliate) had linguist Dennis Barron discussing his recently released book, What's Your Pronoun: Beyond He & She. I haven’t yet read it and look forward to doing so soon. Hear the interesting conversation and audience questions and comments during this hour-long program at this link. Perhaps the quickest way to get the low-dow on this topic is an enjoyable six-minute listen (or read the text) of linguist Geoff Nunburg’s Opinion Piece in Terry Gross’ Fresh Air. Click here. No question that initially most of us find this usage jarring. Take this conversation. “Stevie is home for the holiday break. They arrived yesterday.” “Oh, great, did she bring a friend with her?” “No, Stevie is here by themselves. Stevie uses the pronoun they.” My first reaction - like that of many people - is a bit of confusion and head-scratching. Often this is followed by protestations. “But it’s grammatically wrong. You can’t use a plural pronoun to refer to a singular person.” Oh yes you can, and we have been doing this without a second thought when we refer to an unspecified individual. “Someone slipped a note under my office door. I wonder why they didn’t just knock.” Living in the SF Bay Area, many of us get ample opportunity (and reminders) to practice the use of the nonbinary they and them, and little by little we are getting comfortable. As if to punctuate my point, here's a sign I saw yesterday at a cafe on Valencia Street in San Francisco. Eventually, the use of they/them/their as singular pronouns will most likely become second nature, because language is very much alive and changing organically. These changes reflect the fact that our understanding of the world is always in flux, and that is a great and exciting thing. My godchild Stevie asked family and friends to use the pronoun they when referring to them. And sometime after making this request, Stevie posted the following on Facebook. Please note I am sharing this with Stevie's permission. “Hey folks, so just wanna be clear with everyone and say my name is Stevie, I am non-binary, I am trans, I use they/them pronouns. Please respect that or try your best to . . . I am more than happy to have a conversation about this, I have a lot to say, and I promise not to yell at you if you say something dumb, lol, good day.” And Stevie has shared some of their experiences. Yes, some people are uncomfortable with this usage, and others have downright rejected their request. “What’s more important," Stevie asked, "to feel you are speaking grammatically correct English, or to treat me with respect?” Hands down, respect wins the day. And according to Merriam-Webster, Heritage Dictionary, the Associated Press Style Guide, and various authoritative sources, they is now a singular pronoun . . . and that means it's grammatically correct no matter that it may not yet sound right. Speaking of respect, I am reminded that in Spanish -- one of my native languages -- there are two forms of you, the familiar for use with peers and family and the formal which we use with elders and persons we do not know. I always feel a bit awkward saying the word you in English when I would have used usted in Spanish. It takes my brain a millisecond to recalibrate. And then it remembers, this is how English works, go ahead, say the words, "it is an honor to meet you, Justice Sotomayor.” Once upon a time, English used both formal and informal second-person pronouns: but thee/thou/thine/thy went out of favor centuries ago. And according to linguists, sticklers for grammar got plenty worked up about it back then also. And for decades everyone who cared about grammar was perfectly content with the fiction that the pronoun he, when referring to a mixed group of people, included me and all other females. Change happens, we get used to it, and move on until the next change comes along. Rinse and repeat. Of course, there are slip-ups and apologies are in order when I revert back to the pronoun I once used for Stevie. When we approach this with kindness and good intentions, folks are very understanding. Last week Congresswoman Pramila Jayapal was interviewed at San Francisco’s Commonwealth Club on a variety of topics. She was asked about how and why she shared information about her child’s nonbinary identity on the floor of Congress. Click here to see the video of her statement as the Judiciary Committee was considering the Equality Act to protect the rights of the LGBTQ community. Her words and the emotion they convey say it all. Individuals must have the right to be who they are, and to be treated with the utmost respect, the way each of us deserves. My one-woman show, Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name? is all about respect and fair treatment. We show respect by learning how to say someone's name and their pronouns. My show has a limited weekend engagement in the San Francisco Bay Area, March 6-8, 2020. If you haven't seen it check it out. Click here to get your tickets.

Every time I see those words, New York City, I hear the incredulous and judgmental tone of the cowboys in the Pace Picante Sauce commercials that were popular on TV decades ago. Authentic Mexican salsa was made in San Antonio, NOT New York City. Thanks to Jet Blue’s free wi-fi, I googled and watched several of those old commercials while en route to New York. They were entertaining then and continue to amuse. For a flashback, click on the numbers to watch one, two, three of these commercials. In addition to the commercials, my google search found an article titled: Did the Pace Picante commercials of the 1990s predict our current culture wars? An interesting read, available here. The iconic Pace Picante New York City ad also served as a springboard for a piece about why Michael Bloomberg’s $12 million gun violence ad campaign didn’t fly in regions outside of New York. Read here. But I digress. I’m in New York attending my first Association of Performing Arts Professionals (APAP) Conference and doing a 15-minute showcase of my solo show, Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name? Three other Bay Area solo artists are also attending as part of The Marsh on Tour Showcase. The Marsh Theater (San Francisco/Berkeley) is where I had a five-month run of my show in 2018-2019. My APAP performance will be on Sunday night, Jan 12th @ 7:20 pm at The Midtown Hilton, Gibson Suites, 2nd Floor. If you are in New York, you are welcome to attend, no charge. Learn more about The Marsh on Tour and my fellow Marsh performers Candace Y. Johnson, Lorri Holt, and Stephanie Weisman here. There are hundreds of showcases during APAP since the conference brings together performing artists, venues that exhibit their work, as well as agents and managers. It’s an opportunity for presenters of all sizes from different types of venues to see artists they might be interested in booking for their organizations. It’s my first time at APAP, and I am always happy to spend a few days in New York, catching the sights and seeing friends who live here. I am eager to learn and given that I am relatively new to the performance art world, I'm hoping to meet lots of people and to see other showcases as well. On a final note, I was thrilled that the Drama Guy at Bay Area Theater named, Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name? as one of the Ten Best Shows of 2019. Read his year in review here. If you haven't yet seen my show, or if you want to see this newest version I have three Bay Area performances as part of Brian Copeland's Best of SF Solo Festival in San Leandro, CA on March 6, 7, and 8. The Best of SF Solo is a subscription-based program, but they have made 25 tickets available for each of the shows. Click here to buy tickets. I'm eager to see what this new year has in store for me and I wish you much success and good fortune in 2020.

Re: Your work is done That was the subject line in the email I received earlier this week from my friend and colleague Eva Paterson. Ha! If only. She attached the tweet posted by Dr. Chirumamilla sharing her delight that her new colleagues had the good sense to learn to say her name. Thanks Dr. Chirumamilla for allowing me to share your tweet with my readers. As she reports, one feels seen and welcomed when people make the effort to learn our names. How I wish everyone was treated with that level of respect. By contrast, a young woman told me this story. Her husband, a recently minted MBA from a highly ranked school, was so excited to start his job with a venture capital firm. Alberto Joshua Garcia (not his real name) used his full name on his resume, but was called Alberto his whole life. First day at his new job he finds a box of business cards in the middle of his desk. His mentor from the previous summer had welcomed him warmly and was showing him his new office. He explained somewhat sheepishly when Alberto picked up the business cards: “We took the liberty of using just your middle name. We hope you don't mind. We think the people you’ll deal with will be more comfortable with that. “ Alberto didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. Starting then, his work name was Josh. Didn’t really feel comfortable with his new name, but perhaps this was what was needed to succeed in this coveted position. One of the greatest joys of performing my work or distributing my blog is hearing from folks. After a recent performance I got this email. “My work colleague and I went to see your play in San Rafael a couple of weeks ago. It was amazing and so powerful!! It touched me in such a personal way. My mom who is in her mid-70s legally changed her name back to her birth name, Maria Eugenia, a few years ago. I have to be honest and say that until seeing your play I had considered her decision to be mostly an inconvenience. She had 60+ years of personal and business documents under the name Mary and getting that all sorted out has been a nightmare for her and my dad. I never understood that she had lost a part of her identity when she became a naturalized citizen as a child and her name was taken from her.” To be clear, the government does NOT force a new name upon you when you become a naturalized citizen. It gives you the chance to change your name without further legal proceedings. I had no idea that the naturalization application provided this option and researched it after reading, America, Say My Name, an NY Times opinion piece penned by Pulitzer Prize winning author Viet Thanh Nguyen. Click here to read the full column. Here's what Viet Nguyen had to share about his own family experience. "When my Vietnamese parents became American citizens, they took the pragmatic route and changed their names to Joseph and Linda. My adolescent self was shocked. Were these the same people who had told me, repeatedly, that I was “100 percent Vietnamese?” “They asked me if I wanted to change my name. There was good reason for me to change my name, for throughout my childhood my classmates had teased me by asking if my last name was Nam. As in “Viet Nam.” Get it?” Viet reports that he gave this much thought and tried out other names, but all the contenders seemed alien. “That, in the end, was the choice I made. Not to change. Not to translate. Not, in this one instance, to adapt to America. It was true that I was born in Vietnam but made in America. Or remade. But even if I had already become an American by the time I took my oath of citizenship, I refused to take this step of changing my name." The author's family came to the US when Viet was four years old. “Instead, I knew intuitively,” Viet Nguyen continues, “what I would one day know explicitly: that I would make Americans say my name. I felt, intuitively, that changing my name was a betrayal, as the act of translation itself carries within it the potential for betrayal, of getting things wrong, deliberately or otherwise. A betrayal of my parents, even if they had left it open to me to change my name; a betrayal of being Vietnamese, even if many Vietnamese people were ambivalent about me. A betrayal, ultimately, of me.” “I render no judgment on people who change their names. We all make and remake our own selves. But neither should there be judgment on people who do not change their names, who insist on being themselves, even if their names induce dyslexia on the part of some Americans.” I share Viet Nguyen's view that it is entirely up to the individual to decide whether they change their names. Likewise, I leave to each person to decide how they want to say their names. I don’t know how old Maria Eugenia was when her parents changed her name to Mary, or if they asked her if she wanted it changed. But somewhere deep inside she knew she wasn’t Mary, and although it took her many years, she did eventually reclaim her name. Felicidades Maria Eugenia, and thank you, Missy Dominguez, for sharing your mother’s story. I love hearing your name stories, so please keep sending them. #Diversity #Inclusion #socialjustice #Prejudice #CivilRights #MispronounceMyOwnName