Whether we like our own or not, names tend be a significant part of our identities. We use names to associate ourselves with ideals we wish to project or role-models we want to emulate, to indicate relationship as well as a sense of history. We even tailor them into nicknames or don new aliases to fit our own prejudices of a desirable identity. Americans spend millions of dollars every year on books and guides to help them find the perfect monkier for their newest child. However, ‘perfect’ is an elusive and ever-changing concept. Examples of children with names like Agnes, Gertrude, or Percy are extremely scarce these days, and even undesirable for the fact that they’ve become synonymous with outdatededness and decrepitude, labels most people don’t want associated with their newborns. Or take for example the name Adolph which was once a common name in the eastern United States, at least until it became a byword for genocidal dickheadedness. And you can bet that the name ‘Osama’ will suffer a similar fate of ignominy. Few Muslim Americans would be willing to let their child share the same name as the nation’s most recent archenemy, even if it was once a respected family name. The point is that names are always on a trend and points of desirability have altered a great deal.
Over the course of the last century, names have increasingly been used less to honor members of the previous generation, and more to create a sense of individuality and uniqueness. About a decade ago, a trend started to develop among new parents to name their daughters things like Mackenzie, Mackella, and Mackenna. In fact, all three of these names were among the 200 most popular for girls in 2004, Mackenzie breaking into the top 50. One of the first things you might notice about them is that they are Scottish and Irish surnames. You might even recognize that they’ve been used in the past as masculine first names. There’s nothing strange about that, though.
It’s not at all unusual for last names to be given to boys. Due to a traditional opinion of men as name-carrier and title-bearer, boys have, more so in the past, been given maternal family names as their first and middle to pay homage to their mother’s pedigree. It’s also very common for American and British parents to adopt boy’s names for their daughters. Thus, many names have undertaken a process of transference from surname, to boy’s name, to girl’s name. Take for example the names Leslie and Kelly, a Scottish and Irish family name, respectively. Eventually, they both began to be used as men’s names (Naked Gun pratfaller Leslie Nelson and surfing champ Kelly Slater, for example). In time, these two names became popular for girls. The subsequent part of the process seems to be disrepute. Both Kelly and Leslie have become marginally unpopular names for girls since the height of their use, presumably because they were trendy at one time, and they are very rarely given to boys these days because their association as girls’ names. Only their original use as a surname continues without interruption.
Mackenzie, Mackella, and Mackenna seem to have experienced a similar pattern as names like Leslie, Lindsey, and Kelly. However, they have an extra twist of irony carried over from their original meanings. What I'm getting at is the 'mac'. This prefix is a lasting component of these Anglicized Gaelic names which means ‘boy or son’. As one might guess, the origin of these names lies in their utility to indicate direct inheritance from a father to a son. So, the name Mackenzie in its Gaelic form, Mac Coinneach simply means ‘son of Kenneth,’ a rather confusing epithet for any young lady. Needless to say, some parents are shocked when they discover that they’ve certified their daughters as a son of anything. Take for example the Minnesota mother who attempted to sue the service company she hired to help name her daughter Mackenna, another form of the MacKenzie name and one that commemorates a boy being born to some dude named Kenneth. It makes one wonder, who was this alleged Kenneth and how is he still fathering so many children?
Mackenzie, Mackella, and Mackenna seem to have experienced a similar pattern as names like Leslie, Lindsey, and Kelly. However, they have an extra twist of irony carried over from their original meanings. What I'm getting at is the 'mac'. This prefix is a lasting component of these Anglicized Gaelic names which means ‘boy or son’. As one might guess, the origin of these names lies in their utility to indicate direct inheritance from a father to a son. So, the name Mackenzie in its Gaelic form, Mac Coinneach simply means ‘son of Kenneth,’ a rather confusing epithet for any young lady. Needless to say, some parents are shocked when they discover that they’ve certified their daughters as a son of anything. Take for example the Minnesota mother who attempted to sue the service company she hired to help name her daughter Mackenna, another form of the MacKenzie name and one that commemorates a boy being born to some dude named Kenneth. It makes one wonder, who was this alleged Kenneth and how is he still fathering so many children?
Modes of patronymic practice (name transfers from father to child) are a common tradition all over the world, Western naming conventions very much included. Many of our most common surnames are derived from a construction of ‘name’ + ‘suffix indicating direct heritage’. Names with -witz, (Leibowitz, Horowitz, Rabinowitz) -vich, (Davidovich, Murovich, Yaroslavich) or -ez (Hernandez, Perez, Gonzalez) all mean ‘son/descendant of’. We even have the same thing in English (Jackson, Benson, Johnson). Leif Eriksson, Count Dracula, and Fievel Mousekewitz all share in this patronymic tradition.
In the Celtic tradition, the patronymic component is placed before the name. Prefixes like O’ (O’Neil, O’Higgins) and Fitz (Fitzgerald, Fitzsimmons) also indicates masculine descent. O’ is an Anglicization of the Gaelic word Ó or Ua which means ‘descendant’. Fitz, derived from the Latin filius meaning ‘son,’ came into Ireland with the Welsh-Norman knights that forcibly settled Leinster in the 12th century. Even today, in the small villages which so characterize the Scottish Gaelic speaking Hebrides, it is not uncommon for many people to have the same first name. One man might even share the same name of his father and grandfather, so that you’ll encounter something like Dòmhnall mac Dòmhnaill mhic Dhòmhnaill (Donald son of Donald grandson of Donald).
Though the Western tradition traces ancestry to a patriarch, accommodation is made for females within some of the naming systems referred to above. In Scottish Gaelic, nic is the prefix meaning ‘daughter’, as in NicDòmhnaill and NicRath, the English equivalents of MacDonald and MacRae. That is to say, a brother and sister by the name MacGregor would have different surnames in Gaelic: MacGriogair and NicGriogair. In Irish, Ó/Ua is replaced by Ní for women as in Ní hUiginn and Ní Néill (O’Higgins and O’Neil). This procedure for feminine surnames is very much like the Norse usage of -dottir/dotter (Magnusdottir and Svensdotter compared to masculine Magnusson and Svensen). In an intimate village context, it is not unusual for boys and girls to be referred to by their mother’s name as a sort of alias as in the Scottish Gaelic Seumas Màiri (Mary’s James) or Calum Seonaig (Joan’s Malcolm). And there’s even the example of Ireland’s legendary King Conchobor who is almost always titled by his mother’s name, ‘mac Nessa’.
But how important is the etymology of a name? For most parents, meaning is only a secondary consideration in their decision. Sound and even spelling seem to be far more important. That’s probably one reason why Gaelic names like Angus have not really caught on in America. Though the name of the Gaelic deity of love and passion, ‘Angus’ doesn’t lend itself well to a romantic ear in English. In fact, the phonetics of the name and its spelling are more likely to be associated with sphincteral imagery. And let’s face it, nobody, except maybe for Johnny Cash’s antihero Sue, wants their kids to resent their name. Several years of being called ‘Anus’ on the playground will do just that. In that regard, Mackenzie and Mackenna are safe, adorable choices for young girls. It’s unlikely a classmate will know enough about nomenclature to run around taunting “Son of Kenneth! Son of Kenneth!” and even so, such a lame insult from the weird nerdy kid would probably be ineffective at hurting little Mackenzie’s stylish sensibilities. If you’re still hating on little girls named Mackenzie, then consider this: if original definitions were really important, then names like Cameron (crooked nose), Kennedy (ugly head), or Courtney (short nose) would never have made it so big today.
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