Andrew Wicks

About Andrew Wicks

Andrew Wicks is a country boy with a penchant for movies and sport. After a few years working in health, he decided he'd rather work with today's youth and studied arts and education in rural NSW. His main interests are religion, health and lairy shirts.

We’re living through the age of the terribly named child. Believe it.

I’m a father, so I’m an expert. Let me tell you, the rise of nonsense child names is certainly real, and it will certainly kill us all. All Hail Prime Minister Jayden.



I’m not a particularly religious man, but I do find myself uttering god words when it’s my turn to do the school run.

Ye, as I drive through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. 

Now, that evil certainly exists, and it takes the form of the names vibrantly shouted across the quadrangle. Have a nice day, Braden, they shout, blissfully unaware of the cold shiver they send down the length of my spine. My child’s bestie is named Naveah. I asked child if they were ok. They were. In fact, child said they were godly, as I was informed that ‘Naveah’ is just ‘Heaven’ spelt backwards.

Jesus Christ.

In my kid’s year alone, the mishmash collection of vowels and consonants is closer to the results of the weekly game of Scrabble played by the members of Dyslexia Anonymous, and not names of the serious people of tomorrow. I mean, would you vote for Prime Minister Jayden? I’d more likely hold my car keys between my index and middle fingers as a means of defence. He sounds like he knows his way around a trolley pole, not reasonable fiduciary conduct.

I suppose through further exposure, the easy negative stereotypes will drip away. I say that it won’t. Full disclosure, the suburb where my kids go to school is a predominantly anglo one, so the bubonic bub name plague is certainly a push promoted by race. Bored white people, daresay it, cashed up bogans happen to be the reason for this tide of Kahleighs, Jaimehs and Gregahrahhhs I’m drowning in. Will I raise it at the committee meetings? No. Our Headmaster is named Braedon.

What I want to know is the name of the patient zero, where this all started. So, like all angsty parents with an axe to grind, I’ve done my internet research.

According to one expert on naming trends (what a career), the real measure of acceptance is not how many Jaydens your kids know, but how many names end in the same letter. According to research, we live in a time where a full 35 percent of names can be expected to end with “n” and where small measures of difference are asserted through additional letters that don’t actually change the sound of a name. So, an exercise in being different, but within the tolerated safe zone. I suppose taste doesn’t enter into it.

Hence why school lunch orders are dominated by names ending in the “ee” sound, signified by spelling variations such as “-eigh,” “-ee,” or “y”: Everlee, Oaklee, Kynlee, and Emmie have all risen viciously in the past years.

Yes. They’re real names, I’ve seen them on the internet.

Is there anything to be done? Probably not. It’s probably already too late. As someone once wrote: I am in terrible names, stepped in so far that, should I hear no more, renaming them would be as tedious as learning them.

You know who that was?

Weeliamm Shakespeare.





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