My Son Likes Pink

My son, age 3, enjoys a lot of things.  He loves Cars (the machines as well as the movie), he is obsessed with trains; basically anything with wheels makes his Fun List.  In addition, he is very interested in fish, pets, music, and books (mostly books about cars, trains, and dogs and cats).  His favorite color varies wildly with his mood, but more and more frequently, he is choosing pink.

I first noticed this trend when shopping with him about six months ago.  We went to the children's section to pick out some sunglasses, and I led him right over to the blue and black pairs, some of which had themes like Spiderman or Cars, others had flames painted on the sides, you know, the usual ploys used to lure young children into protecting their eyes willingly.  My son looked at these for a while, but when I asked him which one he wanted, he took a step to the right and chose a pair of bright pink princess-themed glasses.  "Aha," I thought.  "My first real challenge as a feminist mother."

I want my daughter to know that she can be an astronaut or a princess, and either choice is fine with me.  I like girls to be feminine, but I think we need to redefine femininity.  It is not feminine to be weak and simpering; woman can (and are) strong, opinionated, and ambitious as well as gentle and nurturing.  The traits are not mutually exclusive in any way.  I also want my son to consider his options.  Men have more choices in American society, but that doesn't mean they aren't limited.  A man who is a feminist doesn't just need to accept a woman's right to be confident in herself, he needs to be confident enough in himself to stand by her side, support her, and be supported by her.  In order to do this, a feminist man cannot see things that are womanly as being subordinate.

First and foremost, I want my children to make up their own minds.  I never want to demean something one of my children likes, because doing so demeans their choices, and by extension, themselves.  This is taken to another level when you consider society as a whole.  By teaching boys that they shouldn't like pink, we are teaching boys (and girls, too) that pink is a less-preferable color because it is "girly," which in turn teaches them that things we associate as "girly" are somehow inferior, and that translates to the idea that girls themselves are somehow inferior, as well.

Yes, I had all these thoughts running through my head as I stood in that store aisle studying my son, and more thoughts, too.  I remembered that we live in a conservative state in the Bible Belt, where homosexuality is still very much a scandal, where traces of "feminine" behavior is just not tolerated in boys.  I recalled an incident at the park this summer when my son was running around wearing one of his jinbei, and a couple of older boys decided to make fun of him for wearing his pajamas to the park.  These boys thought it was acceptable to make fun of a two-year-old for his clothing "choices," (as though a two-year-old chooses his own clothes).  Fortunately, my son did not understand that they were being malicious, laughed right along with them, and went back to playing.  I was the only one who had to endure the knowledge that their intentions were unkind.  As my baby ages, however, I know that my heart won't be the only one to be hurt over petty things like this.

Pink sunglasses.  Princess sunglasses.  To buy or not to buy?  Let him have his choice and risk ridicule from cruel strangers at the park, or "redirect," and thus deliver the first in a series of subliminal messages that pink is not an appropriate choice for him?

I wish I knew the right answer.  I don't.  In the end, I went with my most basic instinct, which is to protect my child.  I steered him over to some "boy" sunglasses, and managed to sell him on a pair.  The princess sunglasses were forgotten, he was completely happy, but I felt as though I had taken a test.  To this day, I don't know whether I passed, or if passing was even possible.

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I saw serious evidence of this anti-pink prejudice at work at the most recent Toddler Story Time (ages 2-3) at our local public library.  It is a wonderful forty-five minutes of age-appropriate stories, often a puppet show, singing, dancing, and at the very end, a simple craft for the children, and my son and I try to go together every week.  This past week, the theme was Valentine's Day, and the craft at the end was decorating a large foam heart-shaped necklace.  Some of the hearts were light pink, others were hot pink, and then there were green and blue hearts.

During the craft time, we sat at a table with two other boys and about six hearts to choose from.  My instinct was to grab one of the non-pink hearts for my son, so that he could have a "boy" color, but I fought it, and decided to let my son decide.  I held up multiple colors for his consideration, and he chose a light pink one.  Recalling the sunglasses incident, I decided there was little to risk and much to be gained by allowing pink in this instance.  I praised his choice, and together we decorated his pink necklace.  The other mothers at our table grabbed a green and a blue heart, respectively, and "assigned" the color to their sons.

At the end of craft time, I looked around, and was not totally surprised to see that out of at least 10 boys at the event, my son was the only one with a pink heart.  But he was proud and happy, and excitedly showed his necklace to his Daddy when he came home.  It now hangs in a place of honor in our kitchen.

The truth is, it makes sense for boys to like pink.  Children in general are attracted to bright colors, and pink stands out more than black or navy blue or hunter green (more "masculine" colors).  I am glad my son got to choose his own necklace color.  I am proud of him.  I hope he will continue to choose what he likes instead of what society finds acceptable, and I hope he will be confident in his choices.

My son likes pink.  And that's okay.

The Unnatural Feminist

I will share a secret.  I am not naturally a feminist.

When I say this, I do not mean that I am not a true feminist, or that I am in any way "faking it."  I deeply believe that women are equal to men, that my daughter should have the same opportunities in life as my son.  I have known many men and many women, both friends and not so much, and I can see no superiority of one sex over the other, nor are there that many consistencies within one sex.  In my own marriage, I am by far the more practical of the two of us, and I have the most common sense, but my husband is much better at abstract thinking, and works well under pressure.  We each have our advantages, and I believe they are owed more heavily to our individual personalities than any gendered predisposition. 

What I mean when I say I am an unnatural feminist is that my gut instinct is not feminist.  I was raised by my parents to dress, speak, and act like a lady, at least in public.  While I was encouraged in my pursuits, it was combined with the idea that women are natural nurturers, while men need to have drive and ambition.  Both of my parents were heavily involved with child-rearing, but otherwise, they split their roles cleanly along gendered stereotypes.  These roles fit their individual personalities, and I didn't think much of it when I was growing up.  Now, though, I am looking at the world with the eyes of a mother, not a daughter.  And what I see is a bit disturbing.

Besides my husband, those who know me well would most likely be surprised to learn that I am constantly having to combat my own prejudices about gender.  I am very opinionated, and I am an outspoken advocate of women's rights on my Facebook page.  Furthermore, my own sense of righteousness rebels against the harsh double standards for men and women in leadership positions.  I am deeply offended by the idea that I would be an unsuitable leader because I suffer from PMS.  The 2008 presidential campaigns highlighted for me in ways I had never before considered just how many behaviors we scorn in women that we tolerate or even encourage in men (and for the record, I was not a Hillary supporter; it didn't make the media's mistreatment of her any more tolerable).

Despite this, in my head, I like men to look and act like men and women to look and act like women.  When I meet a woman (or see one on TV) that I find abrasive and unlikable, I have to stop myself, to ask myself whether I would accept such behavior or language from a man, and if it is because she is a woman that it rubs me the wrong way.  Sometimes the answer is "No, that behavior is offensive no matter what."  But sometimes the answer is "Yes, I don't find her behavior to be ladylike."  Then I have to make myself pause, recognize my own double standard, and adjust my thinking.

I have a son and a daughter.  I may be an unnatural feminist, but that buck stops here.  I was lucky enough to marry a man who shares my values, who does not look down on women but sees me as his equal partner.  Together, I hope we can raise our children to be natural feminists.