When I took Spanish in high school, on the very first day, our teacher gave us new names.

And it really ticked me off.

Eddie became Eduardo. Elaine became Eléna. Kyle became Guillermo, which is technically the Spanish form of William, because there’s apparently nothing in Spanish that works as Kyle.

Other than Kyle, of course.

And I went from Patrick to Patrício. Say it with me: pa-TREE-see-oh. Sometimes, in what seemed an attempt to sound more authentic, they would adjust the transition from the first to second syllable and make it sound more like “pa-THREE-see-oh.” Dont really understand how you can get that pronunciation because it doesn’t follow the simple rules of the Spanish language; then again, I still haven’t figured out why my dad insists on pronouncing the sixth state admitted into the union as “mass-a-TOO-sets.”

Looking back on it now, it almost made me sound like a character from Star Wars. But as I said, back then, it ticked me off. Big time.

“This is what you’d be called if you went to Spain or Mexico,” our teacher tried to explain.

No, I thought, Patrick is what I’d be called if I went to a country where Spanish was the predominate language. Because I’d insist on being called Patrick, which is my name, instead of Patricio, which is not my name.

And to be fair, and for precisely the same reason, when I encounter someone of Hispanic origin whose name is Tomás, I call him Tomás, and pronounce it “toe-MASS,” not “TOM-us,” the way English-speaking people pronounce Thomas.

I don’t try to “Americanize” someone’s name because they’re in America. And I’d expect the same courtesy.

I realize this “renaming convention” was a quick and easy way for changes in pronunciation patterns could be introduced easily. And when you start with someone’s name, that certainly gets their attention.

Trouble is, it’s a double standard to expect someone to learn someone else’s language so that you can communicate, then expect the other person to learn nothing of your own.

It’s like those people who get bent out of shape any time someone tries to introduce a bill to make English the “official” language of the United States. The presumption in many cases is that this is intended to be discrimination against Hispanics. And I’m quite sure that in some cases, that’s a big part of the motivation.

At the same time, wouldn’t it be considered arrogant of us “spoiled” Americans to move to a country where English didn’t have a strong foothold and expect everyone else to just start speaking our way? Wouldn’t we be in the wrong if we moved somewhere that was not already equipped with bilingual road signs and government communications and start demanding that everything be redone to include English just because it’s what we speak, and what we want to keep speaking?

And let’s be really clear for a moment:  this has nothing — absolutely nothing — to do with illegal immigration.  There are people of every race, origin and creed who are here absolutely legally, and they still face the same obstacles.  Set aside your feelings about the illegals and focus on your fellow citizens.

“But America is supposed to be a melting pot,” someone out there is saying. True. But as people add themselves to the mix, shouldn’t the mix be influenced by the additions rather than being completely overtaken by them?  Isn’t that what finding some kind of common ground is about?