During my specialist training in the United States in the 1970s, my competency in practising western medicine was constantly suspect because I graduated from a medical school in the orient.
Such professional prejudice was widespread and understandable, given that we were foreigners in a country with claims of being the most advanced in medicine, science and technology.
I must admit that in those days, being a medical graduate of the University of Hong Kong was more a hang-up for me than a source of pride.
I would have to defensively explain our curriculum, and brag about the fact our pass rate for the notoriously condescending examination - required of all foreign medical graduates before acceptance into US training programmes - was the highest in the world.
I wonder if things might have been easier for me had the medical school been named the McFadzean School of Medicine (Alexander McFadzean was the formidable professor of medicine in my days).
A Scottish moniker would have reflected the true nature of our education since most of the senior teaching staff were from the United Kingdom.
Now top academics have decided to rename the medical school after Li Ka-shing, since he promised to donate $1 billion to Hong Kong University's medical faculty.
The reasons given are weak. They include the need for donated money to sustain research, the need to thank Mr Li for his largesse, and the fact that many other medical schools in the US do the same for their most generous donors.
No one is denying that money is important for medical research, and that gratitude is due to Mr Li. But the issue here is whether changing the name of the medical school is the appropriate thing to do.
Citing precedence in other countries is a lame way of justifying the action. Many alumni of the medical school cried foul at the faculty members' decision. 'The name of the medical school is not for sale,' they said.
Strong and diverse opinions opposing the name change gathered steam, culminating in a decision by the Hong Kong Medical Association - the powerful doctors' union - to conduct a survey on this issue soon.
No doubt emotion prevails over reason in such matters, but one sound argument I heard is that naming the medical school after Mr Li probably shuts the door to other potential donors in future.
My own feeling towards the name change is that it does not add cachet to the school. In fact, it may even have the opposite effect.
For decades, the medical school has been staffed by academics trained in the United Kingdom and other western countries, teaching basically the British style of the healing art.
Now, Li Ka-shing is as Chinese a name as it gets. A medical school with this moniker will give outsiders not familiar with our education system an impression that this is a medical school with Chinese characteristics.
That is misleading, because we practise western medicine exclusively. If I had to do specialist training in the US all over again, and had to tell US doctors that I graduated from the Li Ka-shing School of Medicine, their most likely response would be: 'Who is this Li Ka-shing? Do they teach you Chinese medicine there?'
The whole controversy boils down to this: the academics at HKU received the promise of an astronomical donation from Mr Li. They were so overwhelmed with gratitude that they acted too hastily in naming the medical school after him.
Meanwhile, the feelings of the alumni are hurt because they have not been consulted. After all, the name of the medical school belongs to all graduates. The academics calling the shots at HKU only work there.
They do not own the school and have no absolute naming rights.
Feng Chi-shun is a consultant pathologist at St Paul's Hospital, Causeway Bay