I was born in Jakarta, Indonesia. My birthname is Khaisa Ikhsannya Adzani. I changed my name when I was 19 years old. I made the decision myself to change it because Pintak is my dad’s last name. He’s my stepfather but he’s my “dad.” Everyone always knew me as “Annya”―that was my nickname. I moved to the U.S. when I was 10 years old to a very small, predominantly White town where everyone had traditional American names. I remember feeling embarrassed by something as simple as putting your name in a standardized test box, being ashamed that my name was so long. It didn’t fit and I think I just wanted to be like everybody else so that I didn’t seem so different and foreign.

My memory is a little bit jumbled but my mother had me at a young age and I think she went to find herself, get herself out of maybe a not good situation. I ended up living with my grandparents and my aunt. In Javanese culture, it’s important and normal to be close and involved with extended families. My first memory of my mom was probably around the age of 7 or 8 and seeing her again after a very long time. She was already married to my dad―he’s American, he’s White. I remember meeting her and him together and I think I was very confused. Pretty quickly after that, they had my siblings. It was only my nuclear family that moved from Indonesia to the U.S. and because our new lives was without my extended family, it felt very hard to be so far away.

My siblings are half Indonesian, half White and I was told by my parents to not really tell my siblings that I was their half sibling. Growing up, I have memories of being in the car and my sister being like, “Are you sure Annya wasn’t adopted? Her nose looks a little different.” Even as kids, you’re seeing visual differences in your own family unit and it was this big secret that I was expected to keep. It was really hard and confusing because I had to play the part of being half White. My siblings are much lighter and because I had the family secret, it was really hard to be the darker one. I couldn’t help but think it would be so much easier if I was lighter skinned and I was White passing. And being the only brown kid in class, I had moments where I was feeling kind of ashamed being darker skinned. I think at 19, I just wanted to legally change my name to make it just easy for everybody and myself. Also, I’m very grateful for the relationship that I have with my dad and my siblings have his last name and wanting to be truly a part of that unit legally in a name. I don’t regret it necessarily but I do wonder if I made the decision too fast. I’m really now in a process of knowing what are ways that I can reclaim that name back. I don’t want to be ashamed of my birth name. I also don’t want to be ashamed of the fact that I changed my name. It’s a big part of my story, a big part of who I am.