In the 1993 movie, "The Distinguished Gentleman," Eddie Murphy plays a conman-turned-congressional representative who wins an election by shortening his name--Thomas Jefferson Johnson--to Jeff Johnson. The previous representative, the recently-deceased Jefferson Davis Johnson, also went by "Jeff." Thomas Johnson obtains old campaign signs and other materials from Johnson's wife and wins on the basis of pure name recognition. In one scene, a typical couple walks into the voting booth; the husband asks his wife, "Who do we vote for for Congress?"

"Don't we always vote for Johnson?" his wife replies. "Oh, yeah," her husband replies.

Although a real-life scenario of this nature would be far-fetched at best, it is widely accepted that name recognition is a major reason for the high rate of incumbency among elected officials. So, it occurred to me that the scores of wanna-be politicos at Harvard should spend at least as much time thinking about how to package their names as they do considering the issues.

Since I count myself as one of these would-be politicians, I too have done quite a bit of speculating on what value, if any, my name might play in a future campaign. In my Undergraduate Council campaign earlier this year, I plastered Eliot House with posters featuring a huge letter "J." The eye-catching simplicity worked and I was elected.

Unfortunately, any advantage my name's simplicity may afford means little, since some very prominent people already have laid claim to both of my names.

Two names, you ask? Let me explain. My birth name is Jung Il Kim, which happens to be the name of one of the most despised men in my native country, South Korea. Jung Il Kim is the son of North Korea's communist dictator, Kim Il-Sung. It is widely known that Jung Il Kim will assume the presidency upon his father's death, establishing the world's first and only Communist dynasty.

As the son of the president, Jung Il Kim is viewed by most Koreans as pampered and spoiled. Unlike most spoiled children, however, he has tangible power in North Korea and has used it to repress basic freedoms and violate civil rights. Most Koreans resent him and his imminent ascension to the presidency.

To this day, whenever I am introduced to other Koreans, I meet with odd reactions. Some people give me a knowing smile as if to say, "Hmmm, we'd better not cross you." Others are genuinely shocked and taken aback; it's as though I'm being introduced to a Haitian as Jean-Paul "Baby Doc" Duvalier. I've had to deal with this kind of thing my whole life.

I've never really asked my parents why they named me as they did. But it must have bothered them a little too, because when we moved to the United States in 1977, they encouraged me to adopt an American name. My father, whose business partner was named Jay, liked it because it was easy to pronounce, and so I became Jay Kim.

Things were going just fine with my new name for a long time. Its simplicity had fringe benefits; it was easy to spell. About a year ago today, I thought I would have a reason to like it even more.

In the 1992 elections, a businessman from Diamond Bar, California--not more than a half hour from my home--became the first Korean-American elected to Congress. His name was Jay Kim. The entire Korean-American community took great pride in his election. And although he is a rather conservative Republican while I am a staunch Democrat, I shared this pride--and was happy to share my name. One of my friends snatched a huge "Jay Kim for Congress" poster and gave it to me. Since the sign conveniently does not mention year or party affiliation, I stashed it away, as one Thomas Johnson did, for use in a future campaign.

One morning, as I was getting ready for work, I saw the headline on the front page of The Los Angeles Times: "U.S. Rep. Kim Violated Campaign Finance Laws." It is extremely rare for a congressional representative to be cited in the lead headline of a major paper--especially a freshman--and so I read on with great interest about my namesake's wrongdoings.

To summarize, Representative Jay Kim illegally transferred about $300,000 from his company to his campaign coffers, failed to report these expenditures, brought his firm to the verge of bankruptcy, and left lingering doubts about conflict of interest. His firm competes for government contracts. Jay Kim has been exposed in a most embarrassing way. It is almost a foregone conclusion that he will not win reelection next year.

When Jay Kim won election, of course many of my acquaintances made cute jokes about my election to Congress. After the series in the Times, I again became the butt of jokes. My colleagues at work served me with a fake subpoena. At a party, a friend made a big show of putting plastic handcuffs on my wrists. And I once again began to get those knowing smiles and astonished looks when I was introduced to strangers.

Lately, these jokes have given way to genuine confusion. In September, one of my friends in California informed me that the daily Orange Country Register had published a story detailing the stances all local representatives held on NAFTA. Under Jay Kim's name was his position (undecided), a quote, and a picture of me!

The Register had my picture on file from a feature they had done on me a few years earlier and had obviously pulled out the wrong Jay Kim file. I promptly wrote to the Register and informed them that I do support NAFTA and would also be happy to have them publish my positions on a host of other issues if they were interested.

Just last week, a good friend of mine from the Institute of Politics stopped me on the street. He told me that an IOP staffer had informed him of Jay Kim's indictment--and he had thought she was referring to me. Before she cleared up the misunderstanding, he told her that it was too bad because I was a really nice guy. He thought the whole episode was hilarious. For me, though, this is going beyond humor. If name recognition remains a factor in politics, I am clearly damaged goods.

If there are any other Jay Kims or Jung Il Kims or even Jung Kims out there, I beg you, please, to look with pity upon my travails and keep a low profile. If you can't do anything right, then please, please, just don't do anything wrong.

I live with the constant fear of seeing my name on the front page of newspapers trumpeting another misdemeanor of some faraway Jay Kim or Jung Il Kim and having to listen to the same old jokes. In the meantime, I am a man in search of a name. What should I do? Should I pick up another alias? If you think of any scandal-proof, easy-to-remember appellations, drop me a line.