Non-Native Species

Photo by Zach Kirby on Unsplash

When I wrote Until the Walls Come Down, I chose a slightly unnatural spelling for the protagonist's name, Tammar. An Israeli expat would spell the name with one 'm' (Tamar), but I wanted to give my English readers a chance to pronounce it correctly. I am fierce about all my characters' names being pronounced right.

Which is curious, because my name is often mispronounced. It's one thing when it's the Starbucks baristas, who seem to have issues with any and all names. When the receptionist at the clinic calls me Gail, I smile and nod, mostly because I prefer to spend my time on other things. But lately I've realised I don't correct even the English-speaking people who get my name right. Almost all of them would get the sound wrong and pronounce it in the English way rather than the Israeli way (which sounds more like Gahl), and I let them, even when they're my friends.

My name pronounced wrong makes sense to me. It's a reminder that I'm a non-native species on this wet island. My Israeli friends get Gahl, who is blunt and sarcastic, because they understand her. My English-speaking friends get Gal, the quiet immigrant. Sure, I could teach them to say it the way that sounds right to me. But I need to trust that a friend is ready for the Israeli Gahl before I cross that border. And so, until I decide it's time, they call me Gal. For them, at the beginning at least, I am the unnatural version of myself.