Who comes to mind when you think of an icon? Often, it’s someone so part of our collective consciousness that their essence is captured by a single name: Elvis, Oprah, Bono, Magic, Madonna, Coco, Ghandi, Aretha and Jackie.
I was born in 1961 when John F. Kennedy was the new president. He and his beautiful wife, Jacqueline Bovier Kennedy, had captivated the world with their youth, optimism and genteel charm.
As the first Roman Catholic elected to the presidency, Kennedy was a source of pride for many Catholics. I remember his picture hanging in the hallway of my grandparents’ home along with a crucifix and family photos.
And so it was fitting that I was named Jacqueline shortly after Jackie became First Lady. After all, I was my dad’s first little lady. And a much beloved labor and delivery nurse named Jackie was present for my birth in our small-town Iowa hospital.
My mother hoped I’d be called Jacqueline. But in the 1960s, nicknames were the norm: Cathleen became Cathy, Robert was Bobby, and Jacqueline was Jackie, much to my mother’s disappointment. She rebelled just a bit by insisting a unique spelling, trying Jacquie first, which never gained traction. Eventually she settled on Jacki, no “e”.
By the time I started kindergarten, Jackie Kennedy was no longer our First Lady, sadly. Five and six-year-olds were more familiar with the portly television comedian Jackie Gleason, so I often got teased on the playground with sing-song shouts of his name. Sometimes it was “Quacky Jacki” or “Jack-o-lantern”, not quite as bad but still hurtful when you’re a sensitive girl of five. Couldn’t I just have been named Susie or Jane?
Over the years, however, I came to appreciate my name. There were no other Jackis (or Jackies) in my elementary or high school classes. Later, people thought I must be French, which I’m not, but it still made me feel a wee bit chic. Classic, never trendy, the name stands the test of time like a lovely strand of pearls. Thanks, Mom and Dad.
“Pearls are always appropriate.” – Jackie Kennedy
Photo credit – Mark Shaw
