Life

Na-ve-min (My Name): On Gifts, Nicknames, and Assumptions

Oct 25, 2025 • 7 min read • life

I want to discuss my thoughts on names, and to ultimately turn this post into a standup routine. My first goal is to write a series of posts, which describe my life and experiences. My second goal is to then perform a standup routine for each area. The first post focuses on names, specifically my name Mohammed, and my observations of others with foreign names. I leverage analogies heavily as I think to compare and relate something to what I can understand.

The First Gift

I consider a name to be the first gift you are given in life (besides life itself). I think of names as a kind of physical gift that you are expected to display front and center. I joke that names are non-returnable, however they are exchangeable to an extent.

Mohammed

My name is Mohammed Ahmed. As you may be aware, this is the most common name in the world with (150 million people sharing this name). I'm always intriuged by what others think or assume when I tell them that my name is Mohammed.

What does the name mean to others, and to myself?

To many, it's the name of the Prophet of Islam. For some, it means a messenger. For others, it can be a homage to the religion that they have submitted to. For me, it's a complicated journey. It brings up the theme of assumptions and expectations. What do you think/assume when you hear 'Mohammed'?

I've already lost the war on naming

My initial reaction is how the person pronounces my name and the impact a mis-pronunication has. Growing up, pronouncing someone's name right was instilled in me as a sign of respect. It is the entry-point of a conversation or an introduction, and this initial step must be done correctly. Coming from a culture that is very proud and the people themselves even more prideful, pronuncing names and getting them right is an important aspect in the culture. It is your identity, and it is a sign of respect to say it correctly.

The issue I faced was that my name is pronounced differently in Kurdish than English. It uses a Maa sound instead of a Moe sound at the beginning. That is how my parents, family, and others had addressed me until I came to America. My spelling was different than how I would phonetically spell my name, my father (Mohamed) and neighbor (Mohammad) had different spellings, and I noticed there were even more spellings (with Muhammad). Muhammad Ali helped shape millions of people into saying his name a certain way. This became something I realized early on that I've effectively lost the war on trying to get others to pronounce Mohammed the way my parents do. The name is too common and too many people have their versions of the spelling or pronunication. I cannot feasibly (nor do I intend to) stop each person talking to me and try to correct them on my name. I've tried having these battles, but it usually ends with the person giving up, not prounouncing it right, or pronuncing it right and then moving back to the original pronounciation soon after. I feel weak in this aspect to have given up this war, but I feel it wasn't an effective use of my time. Maybe my lack of will to fight these battles says other things about how I view my name.

On the flip-side, my younger sister Karozh, is someone who fights every single battle for her name. I admire her tenancity and strength to continue the fight on a daily basis. I tell myself she has it easier because she has a more unique name and doesn't have to battle all the previous iterations of her name. I've witnessed these battles first-hand, and she does not relent until the person is able to say the name right. If you can't manage to pronounce her name right, she doesn't have much time for you. It's quite remarkable really. Jokingly, she makes fun of someones name to get her point across (Pronouncing Karen as car-in).

Just Exchange It

I've been told and recommended to change my name on countless occassions. I do not want to as I know this only increases the amount of questions and paperwork and I'm not about to give myself extra work for the rest of my life. I also joke how since the name is the parent's first gift and how it's expected to be publically displayed, it's really hard to return the gift or exchange it. Also, I had the experience of my older brother changing his last name (Ahmed -> Zakholy), however I soon realized the amount of paperwork involved, and many official forms ask if you've had a name change, which renders it pointless in my mind as now I have to divulge two names.

To my benefit, since Mohammed was difficult and too long for Americans, I was given the gift of a shorter, American nickname - Moe.

However, I've come to notice that American nicknames seem to follow some basic rules (exceptions always apply). Often times, it reducing names to one syllable, or 2 it's catchy or repeatable. William -> Will or Bill. Mohammed -> Moe. Joseph -> Joe, Michael -> Mike, Robert -> Bob, David -> Dave, etc. The nickname I was given was Moe by a lot of people and some decided to make it more catchy by repeating Mo and calling me MoMo.

These nicknames were my adopted names to be more easily presentable to Americans. It's sort of a disguise to allow me to blend in more.

Watermelon

Growing up, I had a different nickname in Kurdish. My father's friend gave me the nickname Watermelon, and it has stuck around to this day. I grew up in my community known as Watermelon, and it was something endearing when I was little. As I grew up and came to America, the nickname stayed with me. I continously felt like a child when my father's grown friends would refer to me as the Watermelon.

I would see their eyes light up and they would always get a smile when they mentioned the nickname. It was a nickname that made others happy and smile, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on me. As a teenager, it felt like I wasn't being given the respect and I was continously treated as a child/kid. As I grew up, I realized you sometimes never grow up to other people. That memory that they have of me as a child with the nickname brings them a lot of joy, and I was initially a fool for resisting so much. To me, Moe was a better nickname. It had logic (Shorted from Mohammed, easier to pronounce) and felt more American. Funny enough, Moe was the same nickname they have to my older brother. Even more of a coincidence, his friends also named him Moe Moe (Ahmad Ahmed) and they spelled both the same.

Battling Assumptions and Expectations

I've constantly felt like my name and being non-Arab (Kurdish) gives me interesting encounters (ironic given the popularity of the name) in San Diego. I am far from the only Mohammed here.

I would often take Uber or Lyft when I was going out and I ran into a lot of Middle Eastern men which usually had the same encounter. The men will always be cordial and friendly, call me Habibi and are excited to take on a ride for someone that maybe shares their culture and way of life. The disappointment that follows is interesting. The drivers will soon find out that I'm Kurdish and I don't speak Arabic. This becomes the first level of disappointment as the conversation will almost always shift to Arabic, but I don't speak it. Their surprise and disappointment at me not speaking Arabic is interesting as it feels like I should learn/know Arabic, but I speak a different language. I do feel that it's a language I have avoided to learn (I took Spanish and can still hold conversations and get around). I hear my mother and father speak Arabic to their friends, and I feel left out (due to my own fault). I need to set a goal for myself to learn an elementary level of comprehension for Arabic in 2026.

The other assumption/expectation is that I am religious. While I will dive into my thoughts on religion in a separate post (mainly trying to compare it to alcohol consumption), religion is something that never really resonated with me strongly. I enjoyed calling myself a "Lite" Muslim and I honestly feel like most people are "Lite" versions of their respective religions they were born into.

Once individuals hear that I fail to meet their expectations, they seem disappointed and the conversation kinda dies after that.

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