Hello: My name is…

Words by Aroha Witinitara (they/them; Ngāti Kahungunu)

The best thing about working for a business that operates as a franchise is that if you move, you can transfer between stores. That’s exactly what I did when I came to Wellington. With three years of experience under my belt in my previous role, I was an attractive candidate, and the Wellington branch was happy to take me on. There was one downside to this arrangement: Back home, as my position mainly involved working in the back, I had managed to sneakily phase out wearing my name badge. I definitely wouldn’t be able to get away with that here. 

I made the decision to stop wearing my name badge because of all the uncomfortable remarks customers would make when they noticed my name. My Māori name. The power imbalance between customers and servers in the hospitality industry gives people a tendency to voice particular opinions they usually would keep to themselves. Unless I’m prepared to lose my job, I can’t speak up for myself. It’s disheartening that so many people choose to express such ignorance the moment they know they can’t be held accountable for it.  

I was holding out some hope that this wasn’t happening to other people with the same frequency that it was happening to me. I hoped that maybe I was just unfortunate, maybe my workplace just serves a particularly entitled demographic. So, I asked some of the other Māori students about their experiences in hospitality; unfortunately, they found it very relatable. At work, we’re putting up with people reacting to us and our names with things like:

“That’s too hard, there’s no way I can pronounce that.”

“Do you have a nickname we can call you?”  

“What a mouthful, I’m not even going to try and wrap my tongue around that one.” 

“Have you considered changing it to something more normal?”

 “Can you teach me more of your language?”

The assumption that having a Māori name is synonymous with fluency in te reo adds to the reality of being Māori in the hospo industry. It is not in my favour to teach you “Māori phrases every New Zealander should know!” That is not my job both as a server and, most notably, as he Tangata Māori; educate yourself e hoa, both in te reo AND in being a decent person. 

These experiences have become part of everyday life for many of us. It might not seem like a big deal, but it’s alienating to endure these experiences. Up until now, I’ve tended to keep these experiences to myself; I’ve listened to my non-Māori colleagues be the perpetrators of these microaggressions when talking about customers behind their backs. Sharing these experiences sets me up to be rejected a second time based on that past behaviour. These incidents may seem small, but they are reminders that the culture of our everyday society doesn’t accept us as our authentic selves.