I have been Elena Thomas now for over 40 years. I exchanged my long and difficult Serbian surname for something that rarely gets asked for spelling or punctuation, or elicits any probing questions about my foreignness. For all these years I have been granted a certain level of convenience, anonymity and privilege that I have been glad of, and I acknowledge.

Recent conversations have prompted me to consider inserting (or crowbarring in) that long and awkward name between the Elena and the Thomas. I can’t decide. If I did it would be just for art life purposes, not my everyday life. 

My hesitance forms questions mostly about other people’s perceptions:

Is it weird?

Is it stupid?

Is it pointless?

Is it attention seeking?

Is it just for a perceived advantage in funding opportunities, capitalising on a mixed heritage?

(It is worth noting here that it is only in the last year or so that I have stopped ticking “White – British” and started ticking “White – other”)

So I feel it is political as well as personal too. And it almost feels like a coming out of sorts.

But for the first time in my art-producing life I am doing work directly and completely about my own childhood… and that sense of otherness that accompanied me.

Elena Milosavljevich’s Dad was foreign and he spoke not very good English with a strong accent. (In contrast to my Irish Mum who had for the most part lost her Irish accent – which could also be seen as a bit of a liability from the 60s onwards)

I didn’t go to the village school, (neither did my much older brothers) and so I didn’t know the children in the village I grew up in. My closest friend was the granddaughter of our neighbours, an infrequent visitor.

Our surname was frequently shortened, and my Dad was mostly called Milo rather than his first name, Stojan. Some people called him Stan, close, but not close enough. I can remember feeling that this was outrageous. If I, a five year old can say it, then why can’t all the grown-ups? I’ve come to think it lazy and rude. As a teacher I made a point of getting names right. It’s called respect.

So in doing all this work about this often solitary childhood, playing in the woods, I feel I need to honour that name. The name that got me here, that formed the thoughts that swim about even now, as a 65 year old woman. I feel the need to be out and proud about my mixed up genes. It hasn’t occurred to me before, but I feel it now.

I don’t know if these feelings will stay with me once this work is done. Will I shake it off again out of convenience or will I come to enjoy being awkward again in my old age? 

Elena Milosavljevich-Thomas is a very long name to put on posters. Maybe I’ll get three lines?

So this name is part of the story. I used to play that word game with it, making as many words as I could out of it. I used it for not quite 22 years, I married young. I love being Elena Thomas. It suits me well. But I am wondering if, for this part of my life, it is time to embrace my mixed heritage and not worry so much about how it will be perceived.

People will either understand, or they won’t. There will be conversations along the way… if I do it… 

I think, in the process of writing this, I have 99% decided that I will…

Hello Dad. I’m back…