Names

In Korea, the family name comes first, which is not surprising given the group-centered culture. My first Korean language teacher in LA told the class that about 40% of Koreans are named Kim (김), Lee (이--the "L" is added in romanization), or Park (박--the "r" is added in romanization), due to the abundant progeny of the kings of old. Wikipedia says it's more like 45%. The fourth and fifth most popular names are Choi (최) and Jung or Chung (정). There are only about 250 family names for Koreans. A family name usually consists of only one syllable.

Given names generally have two syllables. Their romanization can be made into one word, a hyphenated word, or two words, depending on personal preference. There are no middle names. Until about ten years ago, it was common for each generation of a family to share a specific syllable in their names, but recently parents have largely discarded that practice in favor of more individual names. This seems to be one of the ways the country is slowly assimilating Western practices, beyond fashion and food.

Given names are influenced by Chinese names, and can be written in Chinese hanja or in hangeul. Only in the last few decades has naming involved using native Korean words, but it doesn't seem to be very popular. I don't think I've heard a Korean name yet that meant anything in Korean, and they certainly wouldn't mean anything to me even if I had, my Korean vocabulary being so minimal.

When married, Korean women keep their own names, and the children take the father's name. Due to so many people with the same three names, people with the same family name often get married (my boss' parents are both named Kim, for example). One of my other Korean language teachers told me in cases like this, there is an inspection of the family tree to ensure the two aren't actually related before they start dating.

Oddly, it's rude to call anyone just by their name in this culture, except among children and close friends. When referring to or talking to someone with a job title like "principal" or "manager," the title is added to the family name, usually with the suffix "nim" (님). "Nim" can be used without the title, too, though I'm not sure if it's actually for the given name or family name. Whenever I go to the doctor or something, they call me Alia-nim, but I'm not sure if they do that only for lack of a last name, as my boss usually fills out the paperwork for me and she can't remember how to pronounce my last name and just leaves it out. Haha. For people of similar age or rank, the suffix "ssi" (씨) is added to the full name. In addition to suffixes and titles, people are also referred to in relation to other, as opposed to by their names. For example, a woman might be referred to as "Jiho's mother."

Children who are learning English and teachers and staff who work at English language schools in Korea usually adopt Western names for the benefit of us foreign teachers. I've never had a problem pronouncing Korean names, but I guess some foreigners do. It's also fun for the kids to get to choose their own names. They frequently name themselves after movie characters or famous people: Jack Sparrow, Britney Spears, Jessica Simpson, and especially Harry Potter are some examples. Children like to change their names sometimes, too, but I don't allow it in my classes except in cases of two kids having the same or too similar names. Steven, the Canadian teacher who just left, let his kids change their names every month, but I think that's just stupid.

Koreans have a rough time with my name, and with other names Westerners have. Not that my name is really Western. Instead of calling me "uh-LEE-uh" they usually call me "AL-ee-uh," the first syllable sounding like the first syllable in Albert. Due to the lack of certain sounds in their language and restrictions on consonant combinations, some names get mutilated worse. Steven becomes "seu-t'i-ben" (remember, the apostrophe indicates aspiration), Kate becomes "k'e-i-t'eu" and Scott becomes a three-syllable word: "seu-k'eo-t'eu."

Beyond having trouble saying the names, they also have trouble spelling them when they choose their own names. I have one student named Annie, but she spells is "Any." One of the Korean teachers who has just left the school to get married and become a housewife called herself Christine, but she spelled it "Kristen." It's really weird. I also have a boy named Pam in one of my classes. I didn't have the heart to tell him that's a girl's name. No one except his English teachers will ever know, anyway.