Mispronouncing unique names is common, even for famous athletes, due to convenience over curiosity
Names reflect cultural identity, and people appreciate the effort to learn the proper pronunciation
Correctly pronouncing someone's name, even if unfamiliar, shows respect for their background and identity
Source: Brooke Sutton / Getty
When the Travis Etienne Jr. signed his new contract with the New Orleans Saints, most people assumed the biggest story would be football. Instead, the internet discovered something far more relatable to many Black folks: we (and his former coaches) have apparently been saying this man’s last name wrong for years.
Source: Mike Carlson / Getty
At his introductory press conference, the running back decided it was time to set the record straight. The last name everyone has been pronouncing like the letters “E-T-N” isn’t actually supposed to sound like that. Etienne explained that growing up in Louisiana, the name had a Creole pronunciation closer to “Ay-chan.” In fact, he admitted he spent a long time correcting people before eventually giving up and letting the easier pronunciation slide.
“Growing up, it was Travis Achane… that’s how you always say it.”
And there it is—the familiar moment when someone with a unique name reaches the point where they’re tired of correcting people and just surrender. Many Black people know that exact moment. It’s the moment when you realize you’ve explained your name 437 times and the room still looks at you like you just handed them a trigonometry equation.
Because the burden is real.
Every classroom, office meeting, or Starbucks order turns into the same scene:
“Did I say that right?”
“No.”
“Okay… close enough.”
Meanwhile, the person whose name actually matters is silently screaming inside.
Etienne’s story is a perfect example of what happens when convenience wins over curiosity. Even announcers and coaches struggled, and eventually, the easier pronunciation stuck because it required less effort.
Athletes deal with this all the time. Imagine being an elite star and still hearing your name butchered on national television. Just ask Giannis Antetokounmpo, whose name once terrified NBA commentators. Or Tua Tagovailoa, who patiently repeated his name until the entire NFL finally caught up. Even Shai Gilgeous-Alexander has watched broadcasters pause mid-sentence like they’re attempting a spelling bee on live TV.
But Etienne’s revelation also highlights something deeper. Names carry culture, family history, and identity. His Creole pronunciation connects to his Louisiana roots, something he says he’s happy to embrace again now that he’s back closer to home.
So the lesson here is simple. When someone tells you how to say their name, try—really try—to learn it.
Because somewhere out there is a Black kid named De’Andre, J’Marr, or Oluwatobi who would love to live in a world where people give their name the same effort they give “Schwarzenegger.”
And if all else fails, just remember the new rule: it’s Travis “Ay-chan.” Not E-T-N.
