Exclusive: Nonbinary Rapper Aja Discusses Their Name Change

The musician is in the process of legally cementing their name.
Aja
AJ Jordan

After rising to fame as a ferocious drag performer on RuPaul’s Drag Race, Aja has since evolved into a powerful, critically-lauded musician. But it was through drag that the performer and artist came to know their nonbinary identity, which they feel allowed them to play with all parts of the gender spectrum — and they never really felt like the name they were born with belonged to them. Living in their art form, Aja wanted to reclaim their identity definitively, to finally name themselves as they saw fit, beyond the labels of others. “The only identity that matters is the identity that you feel from the inside,” Aja says. “It doesn’t matter what [or who] other people tell you you are...because nobody knows your truth like you know your truth. The biggest lesson I’ve had to do is embrace my truth and my identity 1000 percent through times that other people did not.”

Today on them., Aja is excited to exclusively share that they are changing their name.

Many nonbinary, trans, and queer individuals face innumerable and invasive complications when undergoing legal name changes. A name that doesn’t match a driver’s license or passport can be much more than an annoyance — it can dangerous, and risk revealing aspects of one’s identity to others in ways that could put one at risk. But the name-change process is lengthy and can be expensive, if it’s even allowed in a particular country at all. Which is frustrating, because changing one’s name is often a powerful, liberating, and very necessary step in affirming one’s gender identity.

Below, Aja discusses their experience changing their name, being dead named, and developing their identity, all in light of their new EP, ALL CAPS.

Suzana Holtgrave for Kaltblut Magazine

What first made you want to change your name?

Honestly, I’ve never identified with the name I have. Being adopted and already having several names, I feel like the name I was given wasn’t even my real name. I was like, it’d be nice to have my own name. Especially for someone who identifies as more fluid on the spectrum, as nonbinary, one of the things that really influenced was people thinking there’s this dramatic transformation and detachment from Aja as a person and an artist. What people don’t realize is that Aja the artist is Aja the person, there is no difference.

When I started making music, a lot of people were trying to dissociate my music from drag and started to get really vicious about it. They would say, ‘Aja should release music under her “boy name.”’ That’s rude to me because, like I said, Aja is who I am, and telling me the name I should release anything under, especially a dead name, is highly inappropriate. It also made me want to change my name because, what’re you gonna tell me when my name is Aja and my music is released under Aja?

How was drag a gateway to discovering and expressing your gender identity?

Through drag I learned I didn’t really want to be at one place on the gender spectrum. Drag being performative gender allowed me to explore the spectrum’s different parts, whether it be feminine, masculine, both, or none. Aja is drag but Aja’s also not drag: drag is art and I do feel like I’m art. But on the flipside, whether I’m making art or not, I’m Aja. My whole life is a performance at the end of the day. I have to write my music, go to the studio, lay the music out, get it produced, then I have to rehearse, get onstage and do my music live, find out what I’m gonna wear to tour, find dancers, teach dancers. It’s all one huge performance. At the same time it’s reality.

What has the name change process been like for you thus far?

At first I didn’t know what it would take. It’s a very lengthy process and there are a lot of steps. I’m motivated to get it done because I don’t like to be dead named. It’s really uncomfortable when people do that because even the people in my life don’t call me by my government name. I don’t think it’s proper or respectful. Everyone calls me Aja, even my mom sometimes.

There should be an easier resource to change your name because the process is so lengthy. If I’m honestly speaking, I don’t need it, I want it. But there are people who do need it. That they probably have to go through the same process does say it’s not as accessible as it could be. It’s not just like you go somewhere and then you say, okay, I’m gonna apply to get my name changed. You have to explain why in front of a judge, change all your mailing addresses, IDs, passports, banking info, social security, literally everything. I even have moments where I’m like, am I ready for that? Because it’s a lot of work. But I know it’s something that’s gonna bring me a lot of peace because I’ve never identified with my name I was assigned at adoption. I barely had my birth name for any period of my life. For me it’s gonna be a big experience and I believe it’s totally worth it.

Mark Minton

As a person in the spotlight, whose name and pronouns are so easily available, how does it feel when people incorrectly name you? How did it shape your understanding of how people outside of spotlight experience that?

A lot of times publications, because I’m not wearing a wig and lipstick, will write my government name, my dead name, on the publication, and they never consulted my publicist or me. That’s not cool. A lot of nonbinary people do not really subscribe to society’s gender norms of their sex assigned at birth or to the names given to them. You wouldn’t go up to a trans person if you’re respectful, mannered, and educated and try to call them their dead name. Chances are they would beat the shit out of you. At least the girls I know, because I’m from New York. Trans women from New York are not gonna take your shit. If you try to dead name them, they’re gonna name you dead, period.

I’m not exclusive to any pronouns because personally I don’t care, but a lot of people do care. Being tolerant and educated can simply mean asking how someone identifies. People do that in religious and professional settings. I don’t see why people can’t carry that concept into everyday life. It’s just respect. It’s literally a word and it’s not hard to say. It’s not hard to acknowledge that you could decide for one day to not be a dick and just call someone what they prefer to be called. There’s almost a normalization of shaming people for having chosen names. It’s frightening that it’s normal to be rude.

How do you hope discussing your name change affects conversations around the legal naming complications many nonbinary and transgender people experience?

A name change is a very big milestone for any person who’s under the trans umbrella, under witness protection, seeking safety or change, or just wants a fresh start. People have different reasons for wanting a name change. I hope me changing my name will open up conversation because, I’ll be honest with you, it’s gonna be controversial. People are gonna be like, why did you do that? But that’s not what matters, what matters is that it can give a platform for other nonbinary and trans individuals to jump in the conversation and maybe realize they want to change their names. It’s me reclaiming my name, saying there’s nothing you can do about it, and if you don’t like it, fuck you. Nothing you do or say will change the fact that I sat in front of a judge and the entire world acknowledged who I am and how I identify.

Courtesy of Aja

How did your process of forging your identity play into creating your new ALL CAPS EP?

On ALL CAPS I spoke a lot about my experiences in relation to making music. On track four, "Erasure," I talk about how my experience as a human being, as a nonbinary, queer, black, Arab, mixed race person is always being questioned and judged. And it’s always by people with no place to judge or question those experiences because nobody walks in my exact shoes. That song is about me reclaiming my experience. In a way, I’m tapping my hand, saying ‘shame on me’ for almost letting negative energy overwhelm me into believing people had the right to tell me who I am. A lot of people under the trans umbrella, people who are nonbinary, queer, brown, black, are constantly being policed. We’re told we should appear palatable to middle American cisgender caucasian individuals, things people would never say to a middle class white man. On "Erasure," I also talk about how seeing something in the front doesn’t mean you know what’s going on behind closed doors. I open up a lot about my relationship with my mother, how I’m taking care of her, what that means to me. Some people look at my life and think it’s all diamonds and glamour. People really think I’m going around the world, getting hammered and being messy. No, my life is pursuing a goal while dealing with the societal pressures of brown and queer people at the same time. I think it’s important for people like me to share my experience.

Another thing I share on that EP is that I’m angry as a queer, brown person that I have to work 10 times as hard. Because of who I am and how I identify, there are people like, you’re nothing, you’re garbage. I’d be damned if I let people erase me. That’s why having a name change is important in the end. It’s me reclaiming all of my experiences and saying, I can lose everything but I will never lose my name, I will never lose my identity. Even if I woke up tomorrow and I had no money in the bank, no gigs on the calendar, I had nothing left, nobody left, I would have me and I would have my name and I would have my identity.

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