Call Me by My Name: A Workplace Story

My full name is Madhumita (pronounced “ma-doo-me-tha”) Mallick. For most of my life, my name has evoked a constant swirl of emotions for me: shame, pride, anxiety, and joy. At an early age, it was clear that my name caused discomfort with others around me.

My elementary school teacher would call my name on the first day of school:

 “Maa … Ma? Di? Ma-hoo?” A short pause, followed by one last attempt: “Ma-hoo?”

“That’s OK, that’s OK — just call me Mita!” I would exclaim.

My calculus professor tried to pronounce Madhumita over and over again, but kept saying “Mahu.”

“You can call me Mita. Don’t worry about it,” I said reassuringly. 

Finally, my career counselor told me what I had known for much of my life.

“Honestly, go by Mita Mallick,” he said, striking through my full name in red on my resume. “No one can pronounce this, you won’t get callbacks.” 

So for most of my life, I just went by Mita. Even when I tried to go back to Madhumita, my cultural upbringing taught me to put others’ comfort ahead of my own. Over time, I stopped bothering to teach people how to say my full name or demand they learn; I just chopped it down.

But when I graduated from business school and rejoined corporate America, I attempted to reclaim my full name. I got used to having my name be mispronounced, misspelled, and being repeatedly mistaken for the only other Brown woman in my town or team. I wanted to reclaim my name as a source of pride, identity, and heritage. I wanted to embrace and honor my full name.

When Mispronunciation Turns into Bullying

In my latest release “The Devil Emails at Midnight,” my former boss, who I’ll call the Sheriff, was the popular bully everyone liked at the company. He targeted me from the beginning, knowing that I had my head down, worked hard, and wanted to do well in my job. When it came to my name, the Sheriff decided to completely rename me, instead of repeatedly mispronouncing my name or using a nickname that was short for something else. 

Because he couldn’t pronounce my full name Madhumita and didn’t want to learn how to pronounce it, he decided to call me Mohammed. Because he could and he wanted to.

“Mohammed, did you pull that Nielsen data the team asked for?”

“Mohammed, can you join us for the 4 p.m. call?”

“Mohammed, make sure the agency knows to dial in for the kickoff.”

He called me Mohammed in our one-on-one meetings behind closed doors. He shouted “Mohammed!” down the hall to get my attention. He called me this name in front of my peers, and even his own boss. This bullying, like the flu, became contagious. Two of his deputies also started calling me Mohammed, waving as they passed by my cubicle.

Some days, I went to the bathroom stall to quietly cry. Some days, I would take alternate, longer exits out of the building to avoid walking by his office. Some days, I called in sick. Even then, he once typed an email to me addressed as Mohammed. I couldn’t escape it.

“You can call me Mita,” I said in his office, after I’d mustered up the courage after weeks of this happening. “That would be fine.”

“Oh, Mohammed is funny. Everyone loves it. Don’t be so sensitive!” he said, flashing his famous smile.

I’m embarrassed to admit that for many, many, many weeks, I responded to a name that was not my own. I stayed because I wanted that big company brand on my resume. I stayed because everyone else around me seemed to be doing so well in their jobs. I stayed because I thought I was making a bigger deal of it than I should have.

And I slowly felt myself disappearing. I found it exhausting to do the bare minimum at work. I wasn’t interested in speaking up and proposing new ideas. I finally quit and moved on to another company. 

Being Different from Silent Bystanders at Work

Years later, I still wonder: Where were all the other people who said and did nothing when he decided to call me this other name?

Rather than placing the burden to speak up on the person who is the target, let’s do that for each other. If you observe someone being renamed or nicknamed, or having their name repeatedly mispronounced, consider how to intervene. Remember that context and situation matters when you think about how to implement these three things:

1. Give them a dose of their own medicine. When you watch this happening in the moment, you can say:

• “How would you like it if we nicknamed you?”
• “Has anyone ever repeatedly mispronounced your name? Should we start doing that to you?”
• “I just thought of the best name for you! Do you want to hear it?”

You can use this approach to be a mirror to show them how they are behaving. You can also use humor as a way to distract and deflect, and to get the attention away from the person being targeted. By using humor, you may be able to help take control of the situation. The bully may be embarrassed by this mirror approach and move on.

2. Address them directly. You can let them know calmly and firmly that this behavior is not OK: 

• “Please call them by their name. Do you need help learning to pronounce it?”
• “This isn’t funny.”
• “Totally not appropriate.”

They might come back and say, “Oh, it’s just a joke.” In return, you can repeat firmly, “I don’t appreciate that comment. It’s not OK.” This reinforces that you won’t allow them to discredit your response and reaction.

3. Say nothing in the moment, but talk to the person who is the target of this harassment.

Sometimes the individual bullying in public can be junior or can be a peer. Other times, the individual bullying us can be more senior. Power dynamics in our workplaces can impact our ability to speak up in the moment. We can be afraid of retaliation during or after the incident.

Check in with the person being targeted. See how you can help support them. Help them document what’s been happening, and find someone else you trust in the workplace to help with a plan of action. Someone more senior may be able to intervene.

Why Calling Us by Our Names Matters

Ever since my experience with the Sheriff, I have moved forward and gone by Mita in email, organizational charts, and at any work function where names mattered. 

For all “the areas of opportunity” I worked on to have a successful career in corporate America, I am reminded of my full name in many other areas of my life: my passport, my wedding album, and my driver’s license. After so many years of being known as Mita, I don’t think I will ever be able to reclaim my full name at work. At times, I have moments of nostalgia, but I don’t mind them since I love who Mita has become and the name she uses in her career.

In our workplaces, calling individuals by their name — the name they want to be called — shouldn’t be such a difficult request. It’s the most basic form of respect. Remember that names were given to us by someone who had big hopes and dreams for us. Call us by our names.

Order Mita Mallick’s next book “The Devil Emails at Midnight: What Good Leaders Can Learn from Bad Bosses,” available Sept. 30 online on Bookshop.org or at your local bookstore.  Learn more about Mallick at www.mitamallick.com, and follow her on LinkedIn.