Changing My Surname Might’ve Helped My Career, But At What Cost?

I never took my husband’s last name, simply because I never got around to it. I’ve been reflecting lately on my decision to stick with my own name, and wondering how it could have impacted my life. Over the years, I’ve realised that my Chinese surname Choy has helped keep my connection to culture and home, whereas if I were Rachel Garland, some aspects of life might be slightly easier. To be honest, I never really believed changing my name was a big deal. I grew up in a religious family and got married when I was 23, so for me, it was a simple tradition that everybody just followed without blinking. Now, of course, I understand this tradition is rooted in patriarchy, stemming from the idea that a woman is a man’s “possession”... so I’m pleased that my disorganisation and abhorrence of paperwork stopped me from becoming Mrs Garland.

However, if I had an English-sounding surname, I can’t help but think I’d be treated differently in Australia. I’m convinced job applications would be easier due to people’s subconscious bias, and while I hate the sentiment, I could be seen as more “valuable” because I wouldn’t be ethnic on paper. I can sometimes assume that my CV falls through the cracks when it comes to the first step of a recruitment process, as some HR professionals prefer a more English-sounding name. But if my surname is the reason an employer doesn’t reach out, I don’t want to work for their company anyway.

A Monash University study tackled the topic of glass ceilings and ethnic discrimination when it comes to recruiting for leadership positions in 2023, and the results are grim. Professor Andreas Leibbrant and Dr Mladen Adamovic carried out two years of field research as part of the study, with over 12,000 job applications submitted for over 4000 Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane jobs, across 12 occupations. Despite identical resumes being submitted, ethnic minorities received 57.4% fewer positive responses than applicants with English names for leadership positions. For non-leadership positions, ethnic minorities received 45.3% fewer positive responses. 

“Understanding the different barriers that ethnic minorities face is a crucial first step in levelling the playing field,” Leibbrant and Adamovic wrote in the published study. “Our study shows that a job applicant’s name influences the likelihood of receiving a positive response from recruiters in Australia. To reduce ethnic discrimination in recruitment, organisations could use anonymous job applications, in which the applicants’ names are hidden in the initial recruitment phase.”

Monique Jeremiah, founder of Exceptional Tuition and Resumes, works with many Australian and international healthcare workers, nurses and NDIS participants looking for jobs. She tells Refinery29 Australia she has “repeatedly seen and heard” that those applying with non-English names are disadvantaged when it comes to getting through the recruitment process. “From the years I’ve spent in recruitment, I’ve definitely seen that some hiring managers are prejudiced and pre-judge non-Anglo names. I used to hear it all the time, direct from international graduates, especially about this experience during their continuing rejections, before they came to us,” Jeremiah says. “That's why these students come to us, to try [and] overcome any barriers… they can do the job and have strong academic performance at University and in their practicals, but they seem to never get employed.” 

She notes that some non-English names can “unintentionally indicate” the applicant is on a visa or there are limitations around their work rights. For this reason, Jeremiah recommends that applicants use their English name if they have one, to get past any gatekeeper recruiters first. “However, during the interview process and post paperwork stage — after they succeed in any interview, proving their competence as a nurse — [I recommend they] put their traditional name [down],” she adds. 

Aliyah Jones, a creative from Washington, DC, created a documentary called Corporate Catfish, exploring the barriers people of colour face when applying for jobs. The young African American woman made a fake LinkedIn account of a white woman and noted that the catfish profile received more recruiter enquiries than her actual profile. “I was tired of not getting hired and being overlooked,” she told Unbothered. “I studied for interviews religiously, showed up on time, got stood up, travelled across cities, made it to the final round, and still got nothing. After a while, it stopped feeling like a coincidence and started feeling like a pattern... what keeps me going is realising that this wasn’t just my story, as many people have felt unseen, unheard or undervalued in corporate spaces.”

Even with all the cold, hard facts laid out in front of me, I don’t regret keeping my Chinese last name. I am fiercely proud of who I am. The name Choy connects me to my Chinese heritage, and so many people who fought for me to have a better life, or shaped who I am. From my grandfather, who fled bombs in China during the Japanese invasion, my great-grandfather, who became the first Chinese person to obtain a pilot’s license in Wellington, my uncle, who was murdered in one of New Zealand’s biggest crime cases, to my siblings, who held me through my grief.

As a third-generation Chinese immigrant, I’ve found myself desperately craving that link to my culture. I can’t read, speak or even understand Cantonese — apart from naming some dishes at Yum Cha — and I’ve been drawn to watching more Chinese films and TV, and hoping I can make a second visit to my grandfather’s village in Guangzhou, China. I grew up wishing I were less Chinese so I could fit in, but now? I wish I were more Chinese, and I have grand plans of learning Mandarin and spending months exploring the vast country. 

It’s been over 12 years since I got married, so spending time thinking about my last name isn’t really a habit. It was only when I was recently asked why I didn’t take my husband’s name after getting married that I realised, deep down, I must have known I didn’t want to lose that link to my culture. Losing some job interviews along the way is a price I’m willing to pay.