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August 19, 2008 The Lenses in the Pink-Coloured Glasses
At my nephew's recent first birthday party--who, by the way, is enormous; at one year he is already several pounds heavier than Frances is at four-and-a-half, and is almost as tall--he and Frances were playing with his trucks and cars and balls and the rocket-ship we gave him (complete with astronauts, space dog, alien, moonbuggy and crater). "Look at them," said someone whose anonymity I have decided to preserve: "Frances is such a little girl, and Lukas is such a boy!" They were playing together with the same toys. Those toys were mostly "boy" toys. It's true they were playing with them differently. Frances formed her trucks into tribes of friends and families and had them rolling across the floor and talking to each other, whereas Lukas was mostly banging them into the hardwood while crowing "duh!" because he's only one. But Frances was wearing a pink dress and her long hair was left down, whereas Lukas wore a set of blue overalls and his hair--such as it exists to this point--is short. Not that either of them chose their hair or outfits. I chose Frances's pink dress and I decide how long her hair grows; ditto with Lukas. Several adults nodded approvingly at the anonymous adult's comment. I remembered the hour we had spent that morning before the party playing with red Spiderman and black Spiderman, how she had delighted in showing me the way that red Spiderman can shoot webs from his hands to catch bad guys. I remembered her current best friend at daycare--a boy--and the many times I'd watched them play with the big bucket full of dinosaurs. I remembered every time she had pointed out a Ninja Turtle or Transformer in the toystore. I remembered her many complaints that she does not have enough plates to make a fence or a house with her toolset; her delight at catching frogs; her comfort in dirty jeans and t-shirts; her love of lego and other building toys; the way her Barbie lies neglected in the bottom of the toy basket. And, yes, how she loves to nurture Baby Eloise and turn all of her toys into families sometimes. But, on the whole, I'd hardly characterize Frances as a girly-girl. Unless you are bound and determined to see her that way. Based, I repeat, on a pink dress and a haircut. Why do we put so much time and energy into determining the conformism of each child with gender stereotypes, to the point of seeing it when it isn't there? At this point, I'd say Frances is a child with an impressive diversity of interests. She likes colouring and painting and craft projects using cut-and-paste and buttons and pipe cleaners and sparkly glue and mummy's scrapbooking leftovers. She likes to take photographs. She likes jumping in mud-puddles. She likes superheroes and picture books, trucks and dolls, naptimes for her Little People and building them houses out of lego and turning her Wedgits into cakes (by the way, Wedgits are a fabulous toy, my new favourite). She likes playing with her Calico Critters in their dollhouse; she likes her long-neck dinosaurs and all their little friends; she likes flowers and stars and planets and mud and frogs and fairies and fantasy stories and knights and horses and castles and amusement parks. I can't categorize her as girly/boyish/tomboy/whatever, and I don't see the point in trying. She's herself. She's Frances. Why does anybody else care? Why does anyone ever put any time or interest into determining the degree of any child's adherence to gender stereotypes? How does it help us better parent or teach or befriend a child, ever? In what way does it ever benefit them not to simply see them as themselves, as full and complex little people who are still figuring out what they like and who they want to be? Posted by Andrea at August 19, 2008 9:23 AM under Female Trouble EMAIL this entry (comments fields are below this section) Comments I think there is a strong need for binaries and categories, something ingrained in the human psyche. And with gender, I think it scares people not to have the stark contrast. I find it in myself more often than I'd like and try actively to challenge its existence. But a lot of people don't give it a second thought. With my son, I would get defensive at the "girl" mistakes. Which were incredibly common when he was a baby (gorgeous curls, long eyelashes). I finally realized that there was no reason to correct the random person in the store, because it changed nothing about my son for them to think he was a girl. Posted by: Mouse at August 19, 2008 9:41 AM
Why do we like categories so much? Because it makes it easier to make sense of a complex and often senseless world? We have a neighbor child who is female almost in sex only. Yesterday my youngest daughter said, "Sometimes I forget and think S is a boy." No amount of long hair and pink clothing makes my daughter see her friend as a girl. I find that curious, for all the reasons you enumerate here. Posted by: Gwen at August 19, 2008 10:38 AM
Oh this stuff drives me nuts. Someone walked into my house the other day when Swee'pea was playing with his trucks and pronounced, "Oh he's such a boy!" And I felt the need to talk about how much he loves to pretend to cook and how he nurtures his dolls and stuff animals. People just see what they want to see. Because I dress Swee'pea in bright colours and not in frat boy or camouflage clothing, strangers often mistake him for a girl, but I never correct them unless we're actually having a longish conversation or something. I've had several conversations with people who try to illustrate how boys really are just different from girls. They talk about how their son is totally different from their daughter. And I always ask them, "Why do you think that's because of their gender? Why can't they just be different PEOPLE???" So far, nobody's ever been able to answer. Posted by: cinnamon gurl at August 19, 2008 11:30 AM
Funny, we had a conversation about this just the other day because - at the dentist - my daughter was "asked", "You must like pink, don't you?" I say "asked" because it was imposing rather than questioning and because my daughter answered, "Yes", thereby reaffirming that persons weird belief in that binary equation. Meanwhile, if you ask her what her favourite colour is she will list about eight colours, ranging from black to green (her daddy's favourite colour) and orange (her mama's favourite colour) and, yes, including pink. That, to me, was such a telling interaction. And, through this, she learns that she must like pink...and if people know that about her just by looking at her, she will wonder why that is and - upon further investigation - learn that pink is for girls and blue is for boys. It drives me crazy. Of course, as a scientist, my first question is, is preference for certain colours biologically determined? Individually, perhaps. Based on physiological sex? I doubt it. And all those questions extend further and further to other gender roles and I can't figure out why the spectrum we see isn't as diverse and beautiful as the colour wheel. Posted by: NotSoSage at August 19, 2008 12:11 PM
This makes me nuts, too. My stock line is that there may be biological differences between girls and boys, certainly it is possible, but even if there are, they are drowned out by the huge differences in the way we socialize kids to adopt gender roles. We've made a big effort to keep all options open for our daughter and so far, so good. She doesn't want to be pigeon-holed. Posted by: Madeleine at August 19, 2008 12:13 PM
@NotSoSage, I hear comments like those from the anonymous parent at the party and to cinnamon gurl's neighbor from my mother and mother-in-law especially, and I've learned to say (in a completely even tone) things like, "At the moment, I suppose so. Give her ten minutes." Posted by: amy at August 19, 2008 1:39 PM
It seems to me that the options for boys and girls are pretty wide open these days, as long as girls do things in a "girl" way and boys do things in a "boy" way. I've been watching the Olympic track & field events: the women are sleek with incredibly defined muscles and no breasts to speak of -- built like a young man, according to 1950s stereotypes -- and yet they are unmistakably women. I couldn't say what it is about them that seems so feminine to me; but there you have it. My 4yo wanted to play "dinosaur games" on the internet, so I searched around for some; but about every one she said, "That's a BOY dinosaur game. I want a GIRL dinosaur game." It's not that the dinosaurs themselves were male, just that the game seemed masculine to her. Alien, I think she meant. I'm not sure why. Posted by: Jennifer (ponderosa) at August 19, 2008 3:04 PM
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About Me I'm a type 1 diabetic, witch, feminist, environmentalist, writer, mother, student and print addict in Toronto, Canada. The blog has seen the birth of my daughter, her many medical adventures, my divorce and return to school. The name of the game is upheaval. Subscribe
Change is God (Octavia Butler, Parable Series) "I shall allow no man to belittle my soul by making me hate him." Booker T. Washington Email Frances! frances AT andreamcdowell DOT com You can email her mother too (that's me):
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