I just retired from 30 years teaching at a high school with a very diverse student population. I couldn’t agree more: it is so important to show respect through the correct pronunciation of each person’s name (and then remember all of them!). On more than one occasion, on asking for the correct pronunciation, some students would respond hopelessly, “It doesn’t matter.” And then I would say, “Of course it matters: it’s your NAME.”
Thanks, also, for giving me the word dispronunciation for willful mispronunciation. My dear neighbor is an 87-year-old US citizen who grew up in England. Over the years, as we have become friends, one of my peeves is his habit of wild mispronunciation when he encounters any unfamiliar name. He refuses to be corrected, as if learning to say the name correctly is an inconvenience that the individual has been so inconsiderate to put in his path. I’ve long since stopped trying to correct him—chalking it up to an unconscious learned colonial mentality.
Thanks for this. I have followed you since you appeared on "On Being" and then I read your book "Winners Take All." Since I've never actually had to speak your name, I've never tried. But this morning I took the time to speak it and pronounce it (both first and last). Everyone's name is a treasured gift, and therefore should be honored as such.
This is marvelous, revelatory. I've been reading the name "Anand" for decades (probably mostly in New Age contexts 😂; I've never had an Indian friend by that name) and this is the first time I've learned how to pronounce it correctly. I was in the "a-NAAND" camp—in our untroubled ignorance we turn everything into galumphing iambic pentameter. The real way to say it has such a gentle sound to me, as if the second syllable took shelter under the tree of the first.
I couldn't be more blessed than to live in the world you describe at the end of this piece.
I am an educator who works internationally on the concepts, and language of, emotional and social intelligence. I argue that these are the key, even essential "intelligences" to develop and teach for an interdisciplinary, interdependent globalizing world to be sustainable. And I believe and teach under the premise that these, like all human intelligences, are innate in the human brain. "Education" then becomes the process of opening and lighting up the amazing and creative ways these intelligences disperse themselves in all beings, in humans across both brain hemispheres and encompassing far more than we ever valued, validated or taught or even learned ourselves, certainly in the left-brain laser focused, subsequently empathy-damaging American education, my own. As I grew older having taught 4 decades and traveling further and longer from my California home and talking to adult educators around the world, I kept my hope and spirits up by retaining my credential and substitute teaching in my local schools, re-energized by all the open, learning-hungry minds (sadly, dimming at earlier and earlier ages but still I believe the innate human deep-layered design for species survival) whenever I was home. But excitingly, through the decades one thing obviously changed in the roster I would literally introduce myself to these young children by, in my essential "first" act as a stranger-with-power-over-them, the dreaded "Attendance." And as I unfortunately began to stumble on increasingly foreign-to-me and diverse names, I happened to stumble on something else key to my teaching and learning these children and all human beings in the ways I believed most essential: what I did to their names, the care I took in learning and saying their names -- was the care I took in "learning" them. But, as time went on those 30+ names were more and more unknown to me though there was a 3-5 year time lag in many of the most unusual changes. At any rate, something inside me told me I had to honor this "learning moment" in an emotionally intelligent way to introduce how much I was interested in learning for all of us in that classroom, that day, that way. So, I told them how much I valued that process of my first learning and to my best ability, remembering of all of their names and I asked for 3 things from them all to help me do that: respect and real silence (no laughter at my mistakes) from all the rest so my brain could hear well, a hand up in their air and a response of "here or present or hi" as preferred so I could find their faces and see their eyes and, most importantly their AND ONLY their repetition of that first name until I said it correctly. "No letting me off the hook," I warned smiling, "I want to say your name correctly" and I they believed my smile and my sincerity because I had indeed learned how much that "simple" act said about all the rest of their, and my, learning day. For children (and still true for all the children in the adults we all meet every day), this was my way to introduce myself and them to a hopefully more emotional intelligent and loving classroom, to the extent I could make that more true for all in that classroom, for that day. The amazing part to me was HOW MUCH difference it did make for all the subsequent learning we did that day or as long as I was there to teach.
Thank you for reminding me Anand, for all those children we still all are inside at our cores, what is truly necessary in the care needed to learn well another's name.
What I experience as someone named Walter is nothing as severe as the tax you pay. When I was a teen "Walter" was something from another era, and not sufficiently macho; it automatically labeled me as someone who should be harassed on suspicion of not being straight.
If I introduce myself as "Walter" some people come back with "How ya doin' Wally?" or "Nice ta meecha Walt" or some other way of immediately changing my name. There have been reports of presidents who bestow nicknames on people. I cannot understand the arrogance of that. In the tradition of the Abrahamic religions bestowing a name is a sacred responsibility, and it only happens once, often with a major life ritual like a baptism or a bris.
As a former university instructor, I had students from all around the globe. It was a point of pride and achievement for me when I learned to pronounce names correctly, accent on the right sy-LAH-ble (hah!) and all! I think my efforts didn't simply stem from the fact that I taught foreign languages and have a deep, abiding love of them. I also tried continuously to put myself in their position. As Anand reminded us recently on MSNBC, this country is trying something radically new: to be truly a democracy that, unlike India or China (to use his examples) will embrace citizens from a myriad of different cultures and ethnicities who share a transcendent, common purpose. The sooner we all realize that humanity, not just the United States of America, is on the brink of failure and ultimate destruction, the better chance we have of saving it. What a wonderful example that would present to the world.
I largely enjoyed this article. I spent over 10 years traveling all over the world for business: Europe, Asia, Central America. I still have very many good friends in the countries I visited. Learning the language even a little bit shows people you care about them and love them, and that includes trying to pronounce names correctly. Being teachable is very important. We all have a choice to either draw people closer or push then away. Life is hard. Let's do all we can to care for each other.
"...the subtext is you apologizing to them for existing in a way that makes them have to apologize."
How much of the conservative ethos, I wonder, boils down in the ultimate reckoning to--if you'll pardon the paraphrase--standing athwart complexity and diversity yelling "be simple instead!"? Being unable or unwilling to grasp that the correct pronunciation of another person's name is other than how you do it is not substantively different from being unable or unwilling to grasp that how another person worships; loves; votes; conducts their sex life; experiences their sex, gender, or gender expression; finds themselves treated by society; or constructs their relationship to life, liberty, and the pursuit of fulfilment is other than how you do it.
A life and world that are small and simple don't lead to ease except to a mind that is also small and simple. Complexification (or, more to the point, the acceptance and integration of it despite the initial cognitive dissonance) has an unparalleled power to generate personal and moral growth.
Another thank you for the "dispronounciation" (and "tax") coinage to describe what I've had to experience since childhood. As a "Wladyslaw" (named after my Polish grandfather six months after my parents got off the boat from Europe in the '50s) with an equally difficult to pronounce surname, I was miserable about the situation until we moved to another neighborhood and I plucked "Gene" out of my middle name ("Eugeniusz") to make it easier for new people to address me.
Sadly, the situation has not improved much over the intervening decades to now, even in the polyglot of NYC. I still have the occasion to deal with people stupified by my name who laugh in my face (or ear over the phone) and offer unwanted advice. The attitude of the host (“Maybe when you’re as famous as them, I’ll learn to say your name, too.”) is all too prevalent and maybe even getting worse because of Trumpism.
The "tax" aspect of dispronunciation is particularly odious as its effects generally result in diminished opportunities for folks with "foreign" names. Numerous studies show this. Read https://narratively.com/unpronounceable/ for a good dive into this subject with a link to the studies.
thank you for writing this. and thank you for bringing "dispronounciation" into my life (you're so witty.)
my name is Marcos and I go by Marcos. my entire life, people have tied to pronounce my name the way they want to. the most common is subbing the 'o' for 'u' and I understand that. but seeing it spelled out and still choosing to pronounce 'us' at the end of my name instead of 'os' because you prefer it is BS. I understand the physical limitation of not being able to roll your tongue, but don't replace letters in my name for your sake.
THANK YOU for writing this, Anand. To be honest, the purposeful dispronouncing has always bothered the hell out of me. I especially feel a sense of repressed anger when I hear a person with a different sounding name who has taken on an entirely new name so that ignorant Americans won't be 'bothered' by their real name. The place where I get my nails done is a good example. NONE of the women who work there go by their real, given names b/c the bulk of their customers just can't be troubled to remember WHO THEY ARE. The owner, Mai, goes by BETTY. She's super professional, amazingly successful, manages her own business, but she goes by BETTY b/c her clientele are incapable of saying MY, which is how her name is pronounced. I always make a point to ask whomever is doing my manicure their REAL name, ask them how to pronounce it correctly, & now that I've read your article, I'm going to do more of the same. Sometimes ignorant white people make me feel so ashamed. But mostly, I just feel this sense of.....rage, simmering beneath the surface. We've been waiting hundreds of years for racists to awaken, to open their hearts, to join the human race. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of hoping, cajoling, trying to extend compassion & understanding. It's as if we've all been in a very BAD relationship, where every day, our abuser punches us in the face with his racism, but we just keep hoping he's going to change. Abusers do not change. At this point, we just have to wait for them to die off & support the coming generations to KNOW & DO BETTER. And in the meantime, I'm going to start calling it out publicly way more than I ever have. This is OUR country, not theirs. And I can say that b/c OUR country is FOUNDED on equality & justice FOR ALL. Obviously, based upon their actions & rhetoric, their country is not. I don't know where THEIR country is, but it is NOT The United States Of America.
Those who grow up in a monolingual family and culture, which like it or not (and I don't) the U.S. has long been, lose the ability to hear fine distinctions in the way words are pronounced in other languages. Moreover the muscles in the tongue, mouth, throat haven't been trained to work or move in ways needed to correctly pronounce words and names in a foreign language. Many English speakers have problems with French and Spanish, language that are related. Little wonder we might have difficulty with unrelated languages. My name, Cara, was uncommon when I was a child and for much of my adult life. It was frequently mispronounced and I was often called Carrie, Carol, Clara, Carla, etc. Sure there were time is felt wounding but I learned long ago that a name doesn't define who we are. If we're so attached to our name we take offense when it's mispronounced that's a bigger problem. To my mind it's a lesson in letting go. It's a fortunate thing to be able to be unattached to something so personal as a name. After all we don't take our names with us when we leave. Just sharing...
I worked in a primary school for a couple of weeks and I was chatting to this 11 year old called Santhosh on the playground during a P.E. class and he was trying to get me to pronounce his name correctly and he seemed frustrated when I didn’t get it but I couldn’t hear the difference between what I was saying and what he was saying and I was just saying what I’d heard everyone else call him. So he broke it down for me until I got it which in the end was not difficult at all. There was a very subtle (to my ears) but important difference (in the tongue) and was easy to say once you knew what to say. I was a nobody just helping out and he’d been forceful with me which was interesting because I immediately noticed that his teacher (when she yelled at him for being on the playground) and his classmates seemed to be mispronouncing his name. This poor kid either hadn’t had the energy to explain his name to them (not surprising in the case of the teacher because she was mean to everyone) or they just didn’t care to learn. It made me very sad. If I’d been at that school longer I had planned on saying something but I didn’t end up seeing Santosh again.
While I'm on board with your assessment of "dispronunciation" and its intentional dismissive nature, I think your assessment of mispronounciation and the attribution of cultural attitude to the mistake is a bit off, mainly in your judgement that people will take the time to learn a high-value pronunciation of something more complex or outside of the mainstream. Your examples of hard to pronounce names/words: Dostoevsky, Tchaikovsky, Daenerys Targaryen, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, Hakeem Olajuwon... All of these have something in common, and that is that they are heard more often than they are read... and while being popular has caused this to be the case I don't think people's increased ability to say them has to do with "value", rather, instead, it is due to the frequency of hearing the pronunciation. I'm willing to bet that those same people who are able to pronounce those names without issue would not be quite so apt at spelling them, regardless of the "value" they have placed on the name, and some may, in fact, also have issues with the pronunciation if they were reading these names directly from a page as opposed to simply talking about them. The same goes for common English names, we've heard them more frequently, and are thus able to say them more easily. Names that are spelled differently than they are said are often mispronounced when read. Even American ones. The ones heard all the time.
Now, I'm not saying that this isn't a problem, and I absolutely think that if more names from around the world were spoken in popular culture we would have a more diverse ability to say these names (and that this should happen!), but you have added an attribution of laziness to the person attempting to pronounce and getting it wrong that simply doesn't exist.
Is someone from Japan lazy because they mispronounce American names that they both hear less frequently and do not follow the syllabic structure of their native tongue? I would think not. It would be intolerant of me to suggest such a thing... Even if this hypothetical mispronounciation was occurring in that country.
This obviously doesn't apply to your definition of dispronunciation, as that is an intentional attempt to dehumanize and other a person, and as I said in the beginning of this very long post, I am in agreement with your assessment of anyone doing that. It is a childish form of xenophobia designed to devalue and other people, and anyone participating in that behavior should be called out for it.
There IS hope for the dispronouncers: their children will marry outside of the Mayflower circle, and have kids. The problem is they keep their circle of care small and allow themselves the luxury of cruelty out side of that circle.
I just retired from 30 years teaching at a high school with a very diverse student population. I couldn’t agree more: it is so important to show respect through the correct pronunciation of each person’s name (and then remember all of them!). On more than one occasion, on asking for the correct pronunciation, some students would respond hopelessly, “It doesn’t matter.” And then I would say, “Of course it matters: it’s your NAME.”
Thanks, also, for giving me the word dispronunciation for willful mispronunciation. My dear neighbor is an 87-year-old US citizen who grew up in England. Over the years, as we have become friends, one of my peeves is his habit of wild mispronunciation when he encounters any unfamiliar name. He refuses to be corrected, as if learning to say the name correctly is an inconvenience that the individual has been so inconsiderate to put in his path. I’ve long since stopped trying to correct him—chalking it up to an unconscious learned colonial mentality.
Thanks for this. I have followed you since you appeared on "On Being" and then I read your book "Winners Take All." Since I've never actually had to speak your name, I've never tried. But this morning I took the time to speak it and pronounce it (both first and last). Everyone's name is a treasured gift, and therefore should be honored as such.
This is marvelous, revelatory. I've been reading the name "Anand" for decades (probably mostly in New Age contexts 😂; I've never had an Indian friend by that name) and this is the first time I've learned how to pronounce it correctly. I was in the "a-NAAND" camp—in our untroubled ignorance we turn everything into galumphing iambic pentameter. The real way to say it has such a gentle sound to me, as if the second syllable took shelter under the tree of the first.
I couldn't be more blessed than to live in the world you describe at the end of this piece.
I am an educator who works internationally on the concepts, and language of, emotional and social intelligence. I argue that these are the key, even essential "intelligences" to develop and teach for an interdisciplinary, interdependent globalizing world to be sustainable. And I believe and teach under the premise that these, like all human intelligences, are innate in the human brain. "Education" then becomes the process of opening and lighting up the amazing and creative ways these intelligences disperse themselves in all beings, in humans across both brain hemispheres and encompassing far more than we ever valued, validated or taught or even learned ourselves, certainly in the left-brain laser focused, subsequently empathy-damaging American education, my own. As I grew older having taught 4 decades and traveling further and longer from my California home and talking to adult educators around the world, I kept my hope and spirits up by retaining my credential and substitute teaching in my local schools, re-energized by all the open, learning-hungry minds (sadly, dimming at earlier and earlier ages but still I believe the innate human deep-layered design for species survival) whenever I was home. But excitingly, through the decades one thing obviously changed in the roster I would literally introduce myself to these young children by, in my essential "first" act as a stranger-with-power-over-them, the dreaded "Attendance." And as I unfortunately began to stumble on increasingly foreign-to-me and diverse names, I happened to stumble on something else key to my teaching and learning these children and all human beings in the ways I believed most essential: what I did to their names, the care I took in learning and saying their names -- was the care I took in "learning" them. But, as time went on those 30+ names were more and more unknown to me though there was a 3-5 year time lag in many of the most unusual changes. At any rate, something inside me told me I had to honor this "learning moment" in an emotionally intelligent way to introduce how much I was interested in learning for all of us in that classroom, that day, that way. So, I told them how much I valued that process of my first learning and to my best ability, remembering of all of their names and I asked for 3 things from them all to help me do that: respect and real silence (no laughter at my mistakes) from all the rest so my brain could hear well, a hand up in their air and a response of "here or present or hi" as preferred so I could find their faces and see their eyes and, most importantly their AND ONLY their repetition of that first name until I said it correctly. "No letting me off the hook," I warned smiling, "I want to say your name correctly" and I they believed my smile and my sincerity because I had indeed learned how much that "simple" act said about all the rest of their, and my, learning day. For children (and still true for all the children in the adults we all meet every day), this was my way to introduce myself and them to a hopefully more emotional intelligent and loving classroom, to the extent I could make that more true for all in that classroom, for that day. The amazing part to me was HOW MUCH difference it did make for all the subsequent learning we did that day or as long as I was there to teach.
Thank you for reminding me Anand, for all those children we still all are inside at our cores, what is truly necessary in the care needed to learn well another's name.
Thank you for the "dispronounciation" coinage.
What I experience as someone named Walter is nothing as severe as the tax you pay. When I was a teen "Walter" was something from another era, and not sufficiently macho; it automatically labeled me as someone who should be harassed on suspicion of not being straight.
If I introduce myself as "Walter" some people come back with "How ya doin' Wally?" or "Nice ta meecha Walt" or some other way of immediately changing my name. There have been reports of presidents who bestow nicknames on people. I cannot understand the arrogance of that. In the tradition of the Abrahamic religions bestowing a name is a sacred responsibility, and it only happens once, often with a major life ritual like a baptism or a bris.
As a former university instructor, I had students from all around the globe. It was a point of pride and achievement for me when I learned to pronounce names correctly, accent on the right sy-LAH-ble (hah!) and all! I think my efforts didn't simply stem from the fact that I taught foreign languages and have a deep, abiding love of them. I also tried continuously to put myself in their position. As Anand reminded us recently on MSNBC, this country is trying something radically new: to be truly a democracy that, unlike India or China (to use his examples) will embrace citizens from a myriad of different cultures and ethnicities who share a transcendent, common purpose. The sooner we all realize that humanity, not just the United States of America, is on the brink of failure and ultimate destruction, the better chance we have of saving it. What a wonderful example that would present to the world.
I largely enjoyed this article. I spent over 10 years traveling all over the world for business: Europe, Asia, Central America. I still have very many good friends in the countries I visited. Learning the language even a little bit shows people you care about them and love them, and that includes trying to pronounce names correctly. Being teachable is very important. We all have a choice to either draw people closer or push then away. Life is hard. Let's do all we can to care for each other.
"...the subtext is you apologizing to them for existing in a way that makes them have to apologize."
How much of the conservative ethos, I wonder, boils down in the ultimate reckoning to--if you'll pardon the paraphrase--standing athwart complexity and diversity yelling "be simple instead!"? Being unable or unwilling to grasp that the correct pronunciation of another person's name is other than how you do it is not substantively different from being unable or unwilling to grasp that how another person worships; loves; votes; conducts their sex life; experiences their sex, gender, or gender expression; finds themselves treated by society; or constructs their relationship to life, liberty, and the pursuit of fulfilment is other than how you do it.
A life and world that are small and simple don't lead to ease except to a mind that is also small and simple. Complexification (or, more to the point, the acceptance and integration of it despite the initial cognitive dissonance) has an unparalleled power to generate personal and moral growth.
Another thank you for the "dispronounciation" (and "tax") coinage to describe what I've had to experience since childhood. As a "Wladyslaw" (named after my Polish grandfather six months after my parents got off the boat from Europe in the '50s) with an equally difficult to pronounce surname, I was miserable about the situation until we moved to another neighborhood and I plucked "Gene" out of my middle name ("Eugeniusz") to make it easier for new people to address me.
Sadly, the situation has not improved much over the intervening decades to now, even in the polyglot of NYC. I still have the occasion to deal with people stupified by my name who laugh in my face (or ear over the phone) and offer unwanted advice. The attitude of the host (“Maybe when you’re as famous as them, I’ll learn to say your name, too.”) is all too prevalent and maybe even getting worse because of Trumpism.
The "tax" aspect of dispronunciation is particularly odious as its effects generally result in diminished opportunities for folks with "foreign" names. Numerous studies show this. Read https://narratively.com/unpronounceable/ for a good dive into this subject with a link to the studies.
thank you for writing this. and thank you for bringing "dispronounciation" into my life (you're so witty.)
my name is Marcos and I go by Marcos. my entire life, people have tied to pronounce my name the way they want to. the most common is subbing the 'o' for 'u' and I understand that. but seeing it spelled out and still choosing to pronounce 'us' at the end of my name instead of 'os' because you prefer it is BS. I understand the physical limitation of not being able to roll your tongue, but don't replace letters in my name for your sake.
great job as always, Anand. thanks again.
THANK YOU for writing this, Anand. To be honest, the purposeful dispronouncing has always bothered the hell out of me. I especially feel a sense of repressed anger when I hear a person with a different sounding name who has taken on an entirely new name so that ignorant Americans won't be 'bothered' by their real name. The place where I get my nails done is a good example. NONE of the women who work there go by their real, given names b/c the bulk of their customers just can't be troubled to remember WHO THEY ARE. The owner, Mai, goes by BETTY. She's super professional, amazingly successful, manages her own business, but she goes by BETTY b/c her clientele are incapable of saying MY, which is how her name is pronounced. I always make a point to ask whomever is doing my manicure their REAL name, ask them how to pronounce it correctly, & now that I've read your article, I'm going to do more of the same. Sometimes ignorant white people make me feel so ashamed. But mostly, I just feel this sense of.....rage, simmering beneath the surface. We've been waiting hundreds of years for racists to awaken, to open their hearts, to join the human race. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of hoping, cajoling, trying to extend compassion & understanding. It's as if we've all been in a very BAD relationship, where every day, our abuser punches us in the face with his racism, but we just keep hoping he's going to change. Abusers do not change. At this point, we just have to wait for them to die off & support the coming generations to KNOW & DO BETTER. And in the meantime, I'm going to start calling it out publicly way more than I ever have. This is OUR country, not theirs. And I can say that b/c OUR country is FOUNDED on equality & justice FOR ALL. Obviously, based upon their actions & rhetoric, their country is not. I don't know where THEIR country is, but it is NOT The United States Of America.
no words, just caring ... and empathy... Zsanan
Those who grow up in a monolingual family and culture, which like it or not (and I don't) the U.S. has long been, lose the ability to hear fine distinctions in the way words are pronounced in other languages. Moreover the muscles in the tongue, mouth, throat haven't been trained to work or move in ways needed to correctly pronounce words and names in a foreign language. Many English speakers have problems with French and Spanish, language that are related. Little wonder we might have difficulty with unrelated languages. My name, Cara, was uncommon when I was a child and for much of my adult life. It was frequently mispronounced and I was often called Carrie, Carol, Clara, Carla, etc. Sure there were time is felt wounding but I learned long ago that a name doesn't define who we are. If we're so attached to our name we take offense when it's mispronounced that's a bigger problem. To my mind it's a lesson in letting go. It's a fortunate thing to be able to be unattached to something so personal as a name. After all we don't take our names with us when we leave. Just sharing...
I worked in a primary school for a couple of weeks and I was chatting to this 11 year old called Santhosh on the playground during a P.E. class and he was trying to get me to pronounce his name correctly and he seemed frustrated when I didn’t get it but I couldn’t hear the difference between what I was saying and what he was saying and I was just saying what I’d heard everyone else call him. So he broke it down for me until I got it which in the end was not difficult at all. There was a very subtle (to my ears) but important difference (in the tongue) and was easy to say once you knew what to say. I was a nobody just helping out and he’d been forceful with me which was interesting because I immediately noticed that his teacher (when she yelled at him for being on the playground) and his classmates seemed to be mispronouncing his name. This poor kid either hadn’t had the energy to explain his name to them (not surprising in the case of the teacher because she was mean to everyone) or they just didn’t care to learn. It made me very sad. If I’d been at that school longer I had planned on saying something but I didn’t end up seeing Santosh again.
While I'm on board with your assessment of "dispronunciation" and its intentional dismissive nature, I think your assessment of mispronounciation and the attribution of cultural attitude to the mistake is a bit off, mainly in your judgement that people will take the time to learn a high-value pronunciation of something more complex or outside of the mainstream. Your examples of hard to pronounce names/words: Dostoevsky, Tchaikovsky, Daenerys Targaryen, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, Hakeem Olajuwon... All of these have something in common, and that is that they are heard more often than they are read... and while being popular has caused this to be the case I don't think people's increased ability to say them has to do with "value", rather, instead, it is due to the frequency of hearing the pronunciation. I'm willing to bet that those same people who are able to pronounce those names without issue would not be quite so apt at spelling them, regardless of the "value" they have placed on the name, and some may, in fact, also have issues with the pronunciation if they were reading these names directly from a page as opposed to simply talking about them. The same goes for common English names, we've heard them more frequently, and are thus able to say them more easily. Names that are spelled differently than they are said are often mispronounced when read. Even American ones. The ones heard all the time.
Now, I'm not saying that this isn't a problem, and I absolutely think that if more names from around the world were spoken in popular culture we would have a more diverse ability to say these names (and that this should happen!), but you have added an attribution of laziness to the person attempting to pronounce and getting it wrong that simply doesn't exist.
Is someone from Japan lazy because they mispronounce American names that they both hear less frequently and do not follow the syllabic structure of their native tongue? I would think not. It would be intolerant of me to suggest such a thing... Even if this hypothetical mispronounciation was occurring in that country.
This obviously doesn't apply to your definition of dispronunciation, as that is an intentional attempt to dehumanize and other a person, and as I said in the beginning of this very long post, I am in agreement with your assessment of anyone doing that. It is a childish form of xenophobia designed to devalue and other people, and anyone participating in that behavior should be called out for it.
There IS hope for the dispronouncers: their children will marry outside of the Mayflower circle, and have kids. The problem is they keep their circle of care small and allow themselves the luxury of cruelty out side of that circle.