That's not my name.

In this brief article, the author states that beyond her family context, she has come to rec ognize the privilege and responsibility she has as a provider and an educator to promote inclusivity. When she meets a new patient or a new learner, particu larly those from different linguistic backgrounds than her own, she acknowledges that it may be hard for her to say their name, placing the burden to practice and be open to correction on herself. Some might argue names are trivial-what does it matter if someone pronounces your name cor rectly?-but we know it's not. Our names are one way we become visible or invisible to those around us. When we ask someone if we can call them something other than their name, we are communi cating (oftentimes, inadvertently) that their name is not worth the effort, that there is something wrong with it, something wrong with them. We have a responsibility to engage in culturally and lin guistically congruent practices and an obliga tion to model what it means to treat our learners and patients with dignity, starting with saying their names. (PsycInfo Database Record (c) 2021 APA, all rights reserved).