For me, the memorable nicknames include Ya Qian (โToothpickโ), Zhi Qian (โPaper Thousandโ) and my personal favourite, Lao Qian (โSwindlerโ). The privilege of teasing me, of course, was reserved for those who could pronounce my name.
Many Singaporeans couldnโt, so my name often became Zi Qiang (โhe who is powerfulโ) or Zi Qian in a falling tone (thereby downgrading the meaning to โhe who owesโ). And as Singapore got busier globalising (read Westernising), I noticed the pronunciation gap widening โ including among ethnic Chinese who didnโt speak Chinese. To them, Zi Qian just didnโt roll off the tongue as easily as an English name.
Sometime during my third year in law school, someone somehow decided that Zi Qian was a mouthful, and that was that. I became Chang to one group, Qian to another. By the time I entered the workforce, Zi Qian was mostly a historical footnote, and Chang had taken the lead โ though on occasion, I would still be hailed from across Raffles Place in downtown Singapore by a primary school classmate with a cheerful โEh, Lao Qian!โ (โHey, swindler!โ)
Not quite the personal branding I had in mind, but at least it provided my colleagues and I with a lunchtime conversation piece.
But then I moved to the United States, where my name has turned into a โGuess where I am from?โ quiz.