Once when I was pregnant and whining that I having a boy and not the girl I had hoped for, a smart friend told me that she always wanted a boy because she owed the world a good man. Now, many years later I have two boys and all the weight of that obligation.
Of course, I just finished reading Nora Ephron's short essay on parenting and how she believes like Piaget that no amount of helicopter parenting and Baby Mozart c.d.s can change your child's innate personality. And there is a grain of truth to that. My oldest will always be an energetic spazz, bookishly brilliant but completely ditzy like his mother. And my youngest will be a creative madman with the matching, quirky and sometimes grumpy personality that accompanies an artistic soul. But I believe I have a limited control over their manners and morals just as my parent's, both open-minded and worldly bleeding heart liberals influenced the way I view the world.
Of course, I sometimes feel like an after school special sometimes when my one of my sons repeats a sexist comment someone said at school making sure he knows never ever to repeat it or say anything similar. I find myself defending feminism when one of them says girls aren't good at sports just because I happen to be gloriously clumsy and devoid in areas of hand/eye coordination. My gender does not determine my talents or even the fact that I am awful at math and could care less what x equals. The fact that I have to defend my perceived female quirks as being just part of my whole crazy personality and not a stereotype for my whole gender drives me nuts and makes me even more determined to raise my boys to see past this kind of ignorance.
I think I'm doing a decent job. When I asked my oldest if he minded if girls joined the Boy Scouts, he said it was no big deal and went back to playing Fortnite. An avid reader of the online news, he gets enraged when he sees people putting women down. And I have to say I teared up when we went to see Hidden Figures, and he told me how much he loved it and how unfair those women had been treated.
But then I get stuck in conversations like I did yesterday when he asked his teacher if he had to wear a swim shirt at the end of the year pool party and was told he could go bare chested, thereby sparking a whole class debate. The girls wanted to wear bikinis. It was unfair. Why did they have to cover up when he could show off his naked torso? And I felt my tongue tripping over itself to find the right words to react. How can I say, "I get why the school won't let them because you're 11 and starting to notice girls bodies" without putting the blame for men's sexual objectification on the girls? Then, my son said that it's not his fault his caveman ancestors couldn't handle seeing naked female flesh. Naturally, that did it, and I snapped into lecture mode again.
I find myself in this position often combatting the stereotypes and contradictions inherent in approaching a modern outlook on gender equality. I ask my boys to open the door for me like a gentleman, but I want them to know a girl is capable enough of doing things on her own. I try to remain calm and neutral when talking about bodies in an attempt to demystify and take away the taboos. Yet, the world still works against me with every add with a pushup bra full of boobs selling a hamburger. I want to raise kind, thoughtful, mindful young men who are both informed about the world and its hypocrises and failings but above them. Young men who are loving and make decisions with integrity.
Mother of girls face their own challenges too. And I love the amount of books and campaigning for strong, fierce, ambitious young ladies ready to take on the world. I support their journey and celebrate it. But as all the emphasis seems focused on raising girls up, there needs to be an equal campaign for boys to be raised to support and challenge these girls as their equals. With all the sexual harassment suits coming out, it is blatantly clear that parents of sons must turn this tide of gross misconduct by raising men who will never even think of forcing a women to do something without her full and unconditional consent.
It begins with me. Just as I once held their hands and taught them to look both ways crossing the street, I must teach them that everyone deserves respect and kindness and an equal chance to succeed.
The mused wanderings of a tired mother and writer because blogging is cheaper than therapy and makes me look like I know what I'm doing.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
View from a teacher's brain and heart: Reactions during the Corona Crisis
I know there are several posts like this out there. But for my own piece of mind, I had to share this and get my two cents out there. ...
-
One sock, two socks One sock, two socks, blue sock lying on the floor across the carpet all the way to the door. There's one wi...
-
As I grow older, I am learning that the little kindnesses I have received in my life have enriched me in more way than all the bi...
-
These are the words I wanted to hear when my dad died of complications from esophageal cancer when I was 27. And later, when my mom die...
No comments:
Post a Comment