Two sets of names
In many cultures, children are given two sets of names: One English and one Hebrew, or one Korean and one English. The English name can be the parents' choice, and the Hebrew name can appease relatives by paying tribute to important ancestors or satisfying a cultural tradition for names with positive meanings. No matter what your background, this can be a good tip. Why not use two sets of names to reflect different ethnicities, whether you're Syrian, Russian, or Italian?

In Sallie Han's family, English and Korean names are connected by similar sounds or meanings. That's because the written translations are flexible: You use Hangul (the Korean alphabet) in everyday life, but you can also use Hanja (the Korean word for Chinese characters) in more formal contexts, including names. "Written in Hangul, any given name might look and sound exactly the same," Sallie explains. "However, written in Hanja, you can use different characters to produce the same 'sounds,' but because they are different characters, they produce different meanings. In other words, you have homophones, but not homonyms."
For instance, Sallie's sister Soomie, as written in Hanja, the way her parents chose, means "most beautiful." But the word "Soomie" as written in Hanja with different characters, can mean "muddy water" or "ink." Sallie's Korean name is Sugine (SOO-jin), so her parents gave her the English name Sallie because it begins with S. They also considered Julia because of the similar J and OO sounds in Sugine. "I know other girls who were named Susan because it sounds like Sugine," Sallie says, "and I also know guys named Eugene because it sounds like the Korean name Eujin."
Korean-Americans of the second generation handle names a little differently, but they're still in step with tradition. Sallie and her husband Jason Antrosio chose the English name Sabrina for their daughter (matching the S and long E in Antrosio), but her side of the family all got together and decided on Tuk Yoon as a Korean name. Other members of the Han family share the prefix Tuk, but it's generally only given to males. Still, Sallie said her father felt it was important because "he wanted to include Sabrina in a Korean family tradition as a way of not treating her differently both because she is a girl and because she is half-Korean."
In the Jewish tradition, children are also given two sets of names that can be connected by meaning or similar sounds. Josh and Anna Katz wanted to honor a close family friend named Suzanne but they didn't relish the way it sounded with their first name choice, Sophia. Instead, they named their daughter Sophia Rose Katz, because they love the way it rolls off the tongue: The S/Z sounds create a phonetic echo among all three names, and the long Os in Sophia and Rose repeat, too. But they also gave her the Hebrew name Tvuna Shoshana: Tvuna is the Hebrew word for wisdom, and Sophia means wisdom in Greek; Shoshana means Rose, which is Sophie's middle name; and the Anglicized version of Shoshana is Susan and all it's variations, so it's also similar to Suzanne. Plus, the Ss in Sophia and Shoshana stand for the S in Suzanne.

In Sallie Han's family, English and Korean names are connected by similar sounds or meanings. That's because the written translations are flexible: You use Hangul (the Korean alphabet) in everyday life, but you can also use Hanja (the Korean word for Chinese characters) in more formal contexts, including names. "Written in Hangul, any given name might look and sound exactly the same," Sallie explains. "However, written in Hanja, you can use different characters to produce the same 'sounds,' but because they are different characters, they produce different meanings. In other words, you have homophones, but not homonyms."
For instance, Sallie's sister Soomie, as written in Hanja, the way her parents chose, means "most beautiful." But the word "Soomie" as written in Hanja with different characters, can mean "muddy water" or "ink." Sallie's Korean name is Sugine (SOO-jin), so her parents gave her the English name Sallie because it begins with S. They also considered Julia because of the similar J and OO sounds in Sugine. "I know other girls who were named Susan because it sounds like Sugine," Sallie says, "and I also know guys named Eugene because it sounds like the Korean name Eujin."
Korean-Americans of the second generation handle names a little differently, but they're still in step with tradition. Sallie and her husband Jason Antrosio chose the English name Sabrina for their daughter (matching the S and long E in Antrosio), but her side of the family all got together and decided on Tuk Yoon as a Korean name. Other members of the Han family share the prefix Tuk, but it's generally only given to males. Still, Sallie said her father felt it was important because "he wanted to include Sabrina in a Korean family tradition as a way of not treating her differently both because she is a girl and because she is half-Korean."
In the Jewish tradition, children are also given two sets of names that can be connected by meaning or similar sounds. Josh and Anna Katz wanted to honor a close family friend named Suzanne but they didn't relish the way it sounded with their first name choice, Sophia. Instead, they named their daughter Sophia Rose Katz, because they love the way it rolls off the tongue: The S/Z sounds create a phonetic echo among all three names, and the long Os in Sophia and Rose repeat, too. But they also gave her the Hebrew name Tvuna Shoshana: Tvuna is the Hebrew word for wisdom, and Sophia means wisdom in Greek; Shoshana means Rose, which is Sophie's middle name; and the Anglicized version of Shoshana is Susan and all it's variations, so it's also similar to Suzanne. Plus, the Ss in Sophia and Shoshana stand for the S in Suzanne.
