And I thought I had a parenting dilemma.
On many occasions I have written about my 6-year-old daughter’s repugnance for princesses, the color pink and anything that could be construed as being even the least bit girly girl.
As a parent I pick my battles very carefully and my daughter’s desire to dress like a boy is not something I make an issue of… at least not out loud. I do get slightly annoyed when she places her hands on her throat and makes loud gagging noises when we enter the girls clothing section at Macy’s. And I do find it a wee bit frustrating that I have to dig through a sea of pink for blue, green or white apparel that my daughter will actually wear without feigning a fainting spell in the middle of a crowded department store. However, I never once considered how life would be if the tables were turned and she were a boy begging to wear pink princess t-shirts.
Now I don’t have to wonder.
Thanks to Chicago Tribune writer Julie Deardorff, who recently penned an article describing the trials and tribulations she and her husband experience raising a 3-year-old son who loves princesses more than trucks, my perspective on gender challenges has changed all together.
Deardorff lovingly writes about her son’s panache for the “calming color of pink and anyone who wears it. Especially princesses.” She even reveals that her son rides in a pink “Girl Power!” car seat and that he carries around a pink blanket that he calls “Pinky.” Then, Deardorff does the unimaginable by some parents’ standards, she confesses that her darling son is the proud owner of a princess toothbrush, a princess mirror, a princess crown, and he loves to hear the stories about Cinderella and Snow White.
Like me, and probably hundreds of thousands of other parents of kids, who are blissfully unaware of gender stereotypes, Deardorff rolled with the pink punches until… her son announced that he wanted to trick-or-treat as a princess this Halloween.
The newspaper writer explains that while she doesn’t have a problem with her son parading around in a ball gown at home, she worried about the potential public humiliation he would be subjected to should he hit the streets on October 31st dressed as Tinker Bell.
Describing her dilemma, Deardorff eloquently writes:
“Let’s face it: While little girls are free to dress as pirates, “Star Wars” characters and male superheroes, our sons risk getting labeled as effeminate if they show a preference for pink, fairies or rainbows. Parents may preach egalitarian principles, but boys still don’t have cultural permission to wear what they want or what they think looks beautiful, even on Halloween.”
Neuroscientist and author of the book “Pink Brain, Blue Brain,” Lise Eliot, weighed in on Deardorff’s dilemma saying that it is common for young boys to be drawn to pink and princesses and for girls to be enamored with flesh-eating lizards and the color blue.
“Parents, teachers, peers and cultural factors unwittingly work to reinforce gender stereotypes,” says Eliot.
I second that and completely empathize with Deardorff when it comes to dealing with how society enforces gender norms.
I stopped counting how many times my daughter has come home from school upset that other girls in her class ridicule her for not liking the color pink. They’ve been brainwashed that pink is for girls and blue is for boys, yet my daughter has resisted the same indoctrination.
Only time will tell if she sticks to her guns and likes what she likes, regardless of what others say or think, or if she too will eventually be lured to the pink side.