Why Chinese Names Matter: The Deep Meanings Behind Surnames & Given Names
Reconnecting With Your Roots Through Chinese Names
Our Chinese names are more than just identification – they can also show a long history of how our ancestors endured and passed down their legacy. The surnames we carry are a direct link to our heritage, giving us a glimpse of where we came from, while the names we bear can shed light on the stories of those who came before us.
To truly value our Chinese names, it’s important to know the deep meanings behind both our surnames and given names that connect us to our Chinese roots. As Huaren (华人), learning why Chinese names matter can help us reconnect with our ancestors and appreciate the history that shaped our identity today.
So, CHiNOY TV spoke with Nathan Co, the founder of Chinese Ancestry Research (CAR), a Facebook global community dedicated to reconnecting those of Chinese descent with their ancestral roots.
Surname Etymology: A Window to Your Ancestry
Chinese surnames trace their roots back to ancient China, having endured wars, migrations, and even intermarriages. Carrying these surnames means carrying legacy – a living history that helps us understand where we came from.
To understand this legacy, it’s essential to know that the deep meaning behind our surnames starts with etymology. Studying the origins of our surnames reveals why names reflect regions, values, or professions.
According to Nathan, many Chinese surnames first appeared more than 3,000 years ago during the late Shang dynasty (c. 1600 – 1046 BCE), in the form of Oracle Bone Script — characters carved into turtle shells and animal bones used for divination.
According to Nathan, Chinese surnames trace their roots back over 4,000 years, long before writing systems existed. While oracle bone script 甲骨文 from the late Shāng dynasty ancestral names — carved into turtle shells and animal bones used for divination — many 商朝 (c. 1600 – 1046 BCE) provides the earliest surviving written records of surnames were already passed down orally within clans and tribal alliances. By the Western Zhōu period 西周 (1046 – 771 BCE), these names began appearing in bronze inscriptions 金文, marking the rise of formal enfeoffments and hereditary surnames.
(Source: https://beyond-calligraphy.com/2010/03/05/oracle-bone-script/)
Nathan explained, “These early forms were not arbitrary — they were pictorial and symbolic. A surname like Tián 田 was drawn as a rice field, while Sūn 孫 combined child and lineage. These were not just sounds. They were visual philosophies — reflections of land, kinship, and ancestral continuity.”
As the Chinese civilization progressed, the surnames also transformed during the Spring and Autumn period (770 – 476 BCE) and the Warring States period (475 – 221 BCE). Nathan shared that many surnames originated during these periods.
During this time, war, shifting alliances, and rise and fall of state power played out across a hundred small states and noble fiefdoms.
Nathan added, “When a state was conquered — say, the state of Zhào 趙 or Wèi 魏 — its surviving nobles and citizens often adopted the name of their former homeland as their new surname. Thus, surnames became vessels of memory — a silent tribute to lost kingdoms and displaced ancestors.”
READ MORE: The Evolution of Chinese Characters Through Time
Chinese surnames are indeed a testament to survival — and to origins that reach deep into the bedrock of civilization. Some trace their lineage back to the very dawn of Chinese history. Names like Yáo 姚, Jiāng 姜, and Jī 姬 are not merely family names, but living relics of ancient tribal confederations and royal houses from prehistoric times. As Nathan puts it, “These are not just names — they are echoes of myth, of ancestral figures who ruled before dynasties had names.”
On the other hand, given names carry a different meaning – they reflect the virtues a family hopes to instill to their descendants.
As Nathan further explained the meaning of given names, he shared “like Róng 榮 for honor or Zhì 志 for willpower — and are often chosen using generational poems passed down for centuries. In many lineages, these poems dictate one character in the name shared across cousins of the same generation, reinforcing continuity and unity.
Learning from Nathan, we can say that our Chinese names are more than just labels. They are inherited. They are memories. And sometimes, they are a map — leading us back to the beginning.
Finally, Nathan shared inspiring advice for Huaren, “so to understand your surname is to understand history. And with history comes culture — rituals, customs, and values shaped by thousands of years of lived experience. In Chinese tradition, a name is not a random label. It is an inheritance. A responsibility. And sometimes, a map — leading you back to the beginning.”
But these aren’t just abstract ideas; they come alive in the stories of people today. The Chinese diaspora all over the world have stories to tell about how reconnecting with their roots through Chinese names can be transformative.
(Photo Credit: Chinese Ancestry Research Facebook Page – Family Clan Map)
Why Valuing Our Chinese Names is Transformative
It’s common for Huaren or Chinese immigrants overseas to use their Chinese names as a form of identification. But beyond these practical uses, our names hold a deeper meaning. They serve as a window into our past, allowing us to see how our ancestors survived and left a legacy that continues to shape our identity today.
However, over time, we use them without truly understanding the weight they carry. As time passes, the history behind our names is slowly forgotten and erased by a growing disconnection from our ancestors.
Before our history fades completely, Huaren are encouraged to take an active role in learning about their ancestry. They can join the Chinese Ancestry Research Facebook group where they can seek help in tracing their lineage. Nathan—also known as the ‘Tomb Reader’ or ‘Ancestor Whisperer’— can guide them with their journey.
He shared, “Many Chinoys (and other Chinese immigrants) today carry surnames that are thousands of years old — legacies passed down from ancient states, noble houses, legendary clan founders, or even the professions and places their ancestors once held dear. These names are not just decorative. They are clues. Clues that can lead us back to ancestral villages, dynastic appointments, imperial censuses, family records… and sometimes, to long-lost relatives we never knew we had.”
Nathan encouraged young people to take action now — to photograph gravestones, preserve old documents, and record every fragile clue before time sweeps them away. Progress is inching into the very towns where our ancestors once walked.
Sometimes it arrives slowly, brick by brick. Other times, it comes all at once — and with it, the homes, temples, and relics of our family’s past are torn down to make way for glass and steel. When that happens, a piece of our history, our heritage, is lost — sometimes quietly, sometimes forever.
He reminded us that it doesn’t take much to begin. Just ask your oldest living relatives about your surname. Photograph gravestones. Record every fragile clue.
Every name recalled brings us one step closer to the truth.
“If we wait too long,” he warned, “we may find the trail has already gone cold.”
Nathan is also positive that by learning about our surnames, we can be more appreciative of our roots. He said, “In Chinese tradition, knowing your ancestors is part of being human and about who we are — our identity, in fact. It’s also part of being filial. And for Huaren 华人, this journey of discovery can be a powerful bridge — one that reconnects us to the voices of those who crossed oceans so that we could stand where we are today.”
The journey of understanding our Chinese names can be transformative. It is a deeply personal experience that begins with curiosity and grows into something far more profound: a search for belonging, identity, and a reconnection to those who came before us.
The next section is a personal anecdote where I didn’t expect that my story would transform from a simple interview to a profound experience.
A Personal Anecdote: Reconnecting with My Chinese Roots
This is a testament to the quiet power of rediscovery — how reconnecting with my Chinese roots can reshape not just memory, but identity.
There are millions of Filipinos who carry Chinese ancestry in their blood, and I am one of them. My story is just a part of a large tapestry woven by traders, survivors, and immigrants who made the Philippines their homes.
My ancestors were these people. They braved their way into a better future by immigrating to the Philippines, sacrificing their connections with their homeland while traversing the distance across oceans.
Years later, I was born, a symbol of continued legacy, but a question was already imprinted throughout my upbringing. Where did my ancestors come from? What struggles did they endure to survive and pave the way for the new generation?
For most of my life, I feared I would never know. The trail felt cold. The map was missing. Until I met Nathan Co. We sat down for what I thought was just an interview. I was writing an article on Chinese names. But somewhere between the first question and the final note, something shifted. The story stopped being theoretical and became mine.
I knew Nathan was deeply into surnames, so the first thing I sent him was an image of my father’s Chinese name: Sy Zun Ping 施純坪.
Nathan immediately smiled and said, “Call me uncle. Your grandfather should be Sy Ling ‘something’ — 施能x.”
I wasn’t convinced. But I started digging and pulled up an old photo of my grandfather’s tombstone. He was right. My grandfather’s name was Sy Ling Che 施能澤.
Apparently, Nathan — whose Chinese name is 施日勤 — and I are from the same clan. A connection long severed, now knotted across generations and geography.
When I sent Nathan the photo of my grandfather’s tombstone, he carefully examined the characters and lineage cues. From that alone, he was able to pinpoint our ancestral hometown:
Longyuan 龍源(since renamed 龍園) village, Fujian province — a place he recognized from clan naming conventions and prior research.
(My grandfather’s tombstone)
After identifying the village, Nathan forwarded the tombstone image to the Quanzhou History Museum of Overseas Chinese. And that was the turning point.
The very next day, the museum replied — with a family tree that didn’t just include my father, uncles, and grandfather, but stretched back generations we never thought we’d see again. Even more astonishing — they had traced us to living relatives in China. After 28 years of searching, we had reconnected with our ancestral line and kin we never knew we still had.
After showing the family tree to my father and confirming it was accurate, a feeling stirred deeply inside me — rediscovery and belongingness — a feeling I never thought I would ever experience.
(Our Family Tree – Credits to the Quanzhou History Museum of Overseas Chinese and Nathan Co)
(Photo Credit: Chinese Ancestry Research Facebook Page – Shī (施 )Map Clan)
The map above shows Longyuan, circled in black — the village Nathan first identified, and where the museum found our living relatives still carrying the Shi name and remembering the branch that had gone overseas.
This time, I felt like a broken branch rejoined to its ancestral tree where my ancestors came from. That was when Nathan told me that I am part of the Shi family legacy — 26th generation of the clan from the Fujian province — and I am here to continue their journey.
I had always asked my father about my ancestors and had come to accept that I wouldn’t know the answers, but this opportunity gave me hope that reconnecting with my past was possible — a missing puzzle piece finally finding the place where it belonged.
With these three things, Nathan told me something I’ll always carry with me:
“Chinese names are a bonus, not a burden. You can give your child a meaningful Chinese name and still use an English name for daily life. You don’t have to choose. That’s the gift of being Chinoy — we can walk in both worlds, honor both heritages, and carry forward the best of both.”
This experience is a defining moment in my life where learning a piece of me from the past is not just about the names but the meaning behind them — and realizing we still belong to something far greater than ourselves.
And the strokes in my name serve as a roadmap where I can trace the origins of my ancestors, and the weight it carries helps me build a stronger sense of identity.
A Stronger Sense of Identity and Community
In this modern society, racial identity can be blurry due to intermarriages and broken connections. One may feel disconnected from who they truly are because of the missing piece: the origin of their Chinese ancestry. But it’s important to remember that: “You’re Chinese enough the moment you care enough to ask.
That first step of seeking is already an act of reclaiming your identity.
Fortunately, groups like Chinese Ancestry Research exist to help us find answers and gain clarity. They offer a puzzle piece, one that completes the bigger picture of our history by looking into our surnames’ extensive pasts.
Nathan also shared, “And it’s our members — generous, courageous, and deeply human — who share their stories, inspire others, and remind everyone that no matter how far we’ve gone from our roots, we can still find our way back.”
At the heart of it all is this: a name isn’t just what we answer to — it’s how our ancestors call us back. To remember. To belong. To carry their legacy forward with pride.
Sources:
https://www.mychinaroots.com/wiki/article/chinese-surnames
https://www.chinadaily.com.cn/life/yellow_emperor_memorial_ceremony/2012-03/12/content_14812971.htm
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