Between Superman and Princess Boy

So far this holiday season, the controversial gendered toy seems to be GoldieBlox, the toy that began as a scrappy feminist upstart to generate engineer girls, but lately has labored under criticisms that it reinforces stereotypes about girls (“all girls are oriented verbally”; “girls won’t touch anything that isn’t princessy”), that the toy is an inferior build compared with “boy” toys, and that it doesn’t inspire creative play as well as plain blocks do. And of course, their latest ad ignited a firestorm. 

I am reassured that if I don’t buy GoldieBlox for my daughter, at least I can still find plenty of toys, books, and materials to encourage her to play outside the Princess Box. (A Mighty Girl is always a good place to start.) But I’d say our most successful STEM program in our house is my husband’s brilliant “experiments in the tub,” which began as a one-night-only presentation, but was so highly lauded that now we have shows nightly. What is buoyancy and what are the characteristics of buoyant objects? How does air create propulsion in the water? What is displacement? What is water resistance? My husband has illustrated all these concepts using items around the house like rubber bands, air cushion packs, balloons, corks, and plastic toys. No extraneous purchases necessary.

So far so good with my daughter. Yes, Silver dressed up as Cinderella for Halloween and asked for dolls for Christmas, but she constructs forts, can identify all the planets of the solar system, and can now tell everyone at kindergarten that snowflakes have six-point radial symmetry. 

The Topknot
(Photo by Anoosh Jorjorian)

So what about my son? 

My fellow feminist and queer parents have identified a funny double standard: when our daughters play princess, we roll our eyes and wonder where we went wrong. But when our sons play princess, we cheer them on. 

I am heartened to see several breakthroughs recently for boys whose gender expression is, for lack of a less loaded term, more feminine. Are these boys queer? Are they trans? Are they straight and enjoy being “girly”? We’ll have to wait until they are old enough to say for themselves. But they are boys who embrace pink, who prefer dresses, who love nail polish. Most boys still get teased or gender policed in other ways when they want to wear “girl” dress-up or clothes, but more parents are defending their sons’ choices. As a result, attitudes towards Princess Boys are slowly changing in some parts of the U.S. 

Ocho has what I would consider typically three-year-old gender expression—that is, all over the place. His favorite color right now is hot pink. He did want to be a princess for Halloween, because, he said, “I want to be like Samantha”—Samantha* being the five-year-old girl he worships. At school, he will dress up in a tutu, then he’ll go outside and push bulldozers around. He plays with tool kits and dolls. He is growing his hair out and refusing offers of haircuts. Last time he grew it out, to keep the hair out of his face, I pulled his bangs up into a topknot. Strangers assumed he was a girl, even if he was wearing “boy” clothing. 

So my son is a Princess Boy, sometimes. And he is a Boy-Boy, sometimes. 

And I find myself wondering if he will continue this gender flexibility as he gets older. At some point, will he have to choose? Will Princess Boy become another rigid category rather than a fluid, permeable one? 

Right now, nearly all of my son’s friends at school are girls. He used to play with other boys at day care, but since he graduated to preschool, these friendships have fallen away. I assume one factor is that he has an older sister. But it also has to do with how our culture continues to define gender for kids. 

Which of these things is not like the others?
(Photo by Anoosh Jorjorian)

For example, my son doesn’t know about superheroes, unlike almost every other boy at his school. Our kids haven’t watched a feature-length movie yet, mostly because my daughter finds any kind of conflict in a movie scary. We’ve tried Lady and the Tramp, The Muppets, and even Winnie the Pooh. Each screening has ended the same way: Silver, who will happily hold all kinds of bugs that we find in the garden and stare unabashedly at blood, burst blisters, and x-rayed broken bones, will start to wail, “It’s scaaaaaaaaary!” So we stop. 

We don’t have any TV in our house (no cable or no digital antenna) so our children watch only the most benign shows on my laptop: Sesame Street, Wonder Pets, Olivia, Bob the Builder, the bland Canadian cartoon Caillou, and the charming British one, Kipper. Licensed characters are not allowed at our preschool, so this has helped to delay the pressure of keeping up with popular culture until kindergarten. 

I suspect that my son’s limited media consumption explains something about the way he enjoys play. Because he hasn’t yet seen conflicts modeled by superhero cartoons and movies, he doesn’t play good guys fighting bad guys. His imagination extends more towards playing a pet, or domestic family scenes, or pretending to be an excavator. Perhaps it’s just his age—the boys who play superheroes are older than him. But it means that the kind of play he likes will often group him with girls. 

This isn’t to say that he doesn’t do rough-and-tumble play. Both Silver and Ocho are very strong, and they get into wrestling matches where I can’t tell if they are laughing or screaming. (It’s usually both.) 

I find myself wondering, where is the middle path for Ocho, especially as he gets older? We try to construct it as much as we can in our own house. We’re happy to let him follow his own interests and imagination. When he puts on a sparkly crown for Thanksgiving dinner because, he says, he wants to “look more beautiful,” we smile at him with no reservations. We do the same when he puts on a firefighter’s hat. 

But he doesn’t live in a bubble, and I wish there were an equivalent of “A Mighty Girl” for boys, a central resource to encourage boys to grow up outside of stereotypes of manly men that isn’t exclusively Princess Boy, either. We know that feminism isn’t a women’s issue—it’s an issue for humanity. We can’t expand the spectrum of “masculine” and “feminine” solely for women and girls; we must expand it for men and boys as well.

* Name changed. 

Self-Regulation

(Photo by Kevin Miller)

To play or not to play with toy guns? Christine Gross-Loh asked this question in her recent article in the Atlantic, “Keeping Kids From Toy Guns: How One Mother Changed Her Mind.” She explains how she initially opposed gun play in her family, but after spending time in Japan where gun play is tolerated by parents and encouraged by teachers, she decided it could benefit kids and their imaginations. 

Her argument rests on the premise that a permissive attitude towards gun play results in better self-regulation in children. She notes that weapon play was far more common in the U.S. in the 1950s and cites a study that asserts that American children had better self-regulation 60 years ago. She adds, “But societal panic intensified in the wake of a spate of tragic school shootings in the 1990s, and a shift towards zero tolerance policies and regulating how children should play has been steadily increasing ever since.” 

At which point she lost me. 

This sentence tangles together two concepts: play policy and gun policy. Do American parents and educators discourage weapon play due to a misguided cultural belief that “gun play desensitizes kids to violence”? Perhaps. Yet I would argue that a greater contributing factor is that, in the U.S., it’s far too easy for fantasy and reality collide. 

Gross-Loh acknowledges, “Today in Japan, almost no one owns firearms and there are hardly any deaths by gun” and “there is no easy answer when my Japanese friends wonder at the paradox of our banning gun play when we do not ban the guns that kill thousands of children and teens in the U.S. each year”, but she fails to connect playground policies discouraging gun play with the reality of gun violence in America. 

Let’s reflect on the fact that after the Sandy Hook mass shooting, citizens and politicians have been unable to enact meaningful legislation to make owning a gun at least as difficult as obtaining a driver’s license, in defiance of all evidence that demonstrates a high rate of gun ownership correlates with a high incidence of homicide. 

Let’s consider the children who have gained access to real guns and accidentally shot themselves or others, like this one, this one, this one, and this one, just in the past month. 

Let’s remember as well the children who have been shot by police because they possessed toy guns that resembled real ones. Let’s also contemplate the gun lobby that not only blocks legislation to curb gun ownership and prevents any scientific research into gun violence in the U.S., but also stands against regulations on toy gun designs that would make it easier for police to distinguish a toy from a genuine weapon. 

So I take issue with Gross-Loh’s dismissal of American attitudes towards “gun play” as cultural difference. Bans on toy guns and gun play are rooted in real fears, not phantom overreactions, based on hundreds of tragedies where minors have acquired guns and used them to very deadly effect. Since we who oppose gun violence can’t seem to move by reason or emotion key politicians to enact a less permissive weapons policy, we try to enact those policies at home. We can’t control the guns, but maybe we can control our children. A false sense of security, to be sure. 

I find the second question—does allowing gun play lead to better self-regulation in children?—more difficult to address. Gross-Loh writes, “I have come to believe that one of the secrets of Asian boys’ self-regulation is the way that aggressive play is seen as a normal stage of childhood, rather than demonized and hidden out of sight,” but provides no citation for this assertion. As with many discipline-specific terms, “self-regulation” can be hard to define, particularly across cultures. 

(Photo by Kevin Miller)

Nevertheless, I hardly think that whether American children engage in gun play is the single key to their “self-regulation.” First of all, even with “gun play bans” in place, can we say that gun play has effectively declined? An imaginative child (i.e., all of them) will create a gun out of anything at hand: sticks, pieces of paper, a thumb and a forefinger. Secondly, can we really assert anything about all American children, across all ages, given the vast differences of class, cultures, and backgrounds? The study she cites examined children in Oregon and Michigan, who “were demographically mostly white.” (The Asian children studied were in China, Taiwan, and South Korea.)

I heartily agree with Gross-Loh, however, that American children are not given enough opportunities and time for unregulated imaginative play. My daughter is about to enter kindergarten where, at five years old, she will be assigned homework. (I first received homework at age nine.) Our education system has come to focus on academics at the cost of unstructured play time like recess and imaginative outlets like visual and performing arts classes. Since both parents usually work and require childcare beyond the end of the school day, children can further lose unstructured time to extracurricular language classes, tutoring, sports classes, etc. Additionally, the proliferation of screens—and parents’ needs to get things done while their children are stationary with videos and iPad games—can also reduce time for imaginative play. (I call these “the opiate of my children” and deploy them willingly as needed.) 

I frequently cite an anecdote from another of Gross-Loh’s articles, “Have American Parents Got It All Backwards?”, where she highlights the Finnish model of education. She recounts that an American Fulbright grant recipient queried a Finnish teacher, “How can you teach when the children are going outside every 45 minutes?” to which the astonished Finnish teacher replied, “I could not teach unless the children went outside every 45 minutes!” 

I am fully in favor of educational policies that allow children more time to engage in imaginative play. I am also willing to consider that gun play could be a healthy part of children’s imaginative worlds—as long as it remains in the realm of play. 

I am not, however, willing to continue a national policy on guns that relies on “self-regulation.” In our armed society, children die at epidemic levels, and that is a fact, not fantasy. 

Read my series on gun violence, Guns and Anger, including my response to the mass shooting that occurred less than two blocks from my children's school.