ADVIL

 My name means 'unparalleled' in Sanskrit. However, every single time I've met someone, the first time they try to type my name, it always goes the exact same way.

'Hey Advil

 *Advik'

My name, rather than its definition of unparalleled, became a parallel to a corporate pain relief medicine. Rather than staying unique, it became auto-corrected for most of my life as a headache cure. My parents chose the name for two reasons: first, to rhyme with my brother's name, Rishik, but also to keep ties to our roots through culture and language.

Growing up, it often became a joke among my friends and me rather than something that was deep. Whenever someone saw a bottle of Advil at the store they would send a picture and go haha that's you.

As a child of immigrants, the difficulties I've had with my name are much easier than most. Mine are comedic and short-term mistakes with the occasional struggling sub butchering my name.

The very technology that is able to scan my face, fingerprint, and generate me Lang hw (Ms. Valentino it's a joke) isn't able to recognize that names like mine and many other immigrants' exist. Every day these algorithms grow more advanced and are put to new uses, yet mainstream technology has been developed in environments that only have names like 'Bob.' With today's technology and leaders, you would expect something different — the biggest tech leaders are immigrants: Sundar Pichai, Google; Jensen Huang, Nvidia; and Satya Nadella, Microsoft. While they keep pushing forward with whatever new AI model is coming out to change the world, they fail to see that the very environment they are building in has stayed stagnant.