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astra_nomerInspired by an entry posted by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
capsicumanuum, because my comment there was spiraling out of control.
The winter holidays are fast approaching, and DH and I were discussing gift ideas for our kids. DH suggested an electronics kit. "You know, like the kind where you can build your own simple devices like radios and stuff." And I looked at him and said, "No, I don't know what you're talking about. Those toys were for boys."
Even though I grew up with the firm belief that I could grow up to be whatever I wanted and was better at math and science than 99.9% of the boys, I still managed to internalize a lot of gender stereotyping. I might gaze wistfully at the boys' toys, but I would never let myself play with them. I was reminded forcefully of this when I went to see the Transformers movie this summer. I distinctly remember avidly watching episodes of the TV series, heartily wishing all the while that girls could have cool toys like that, too.
DS1 is in Cub Scouts now, and they had their Raingutter Regatta on Monday. In his pack, siblings are welcome to participate in all activities, and I watched a couple of little girls happily puffing away at the sails of their boats. And again there was that wistful tug at the heart: if only my parents had let me do that, too.
Then again, yesterday I played soccer for my former institution in its semiannual intramural competition. The rule is at least two women on the field per side, because although we women are just as capable scientists are the men, physically we are just not as tall, not as muscular. Having the rule gives us the opportunity to play, because otherwise the teams would consist only of hulking brutes. But there was a definite sense that the normal jostling that takes place on the field was less acceptable if a woman was involved.
My kids are trying to sort out gender differences, too, and it's hard. On one level, I want them to know that gender identity is fluid, and that everyone figures out for herself or himself what it means to be a man or woman. At the same time, they need to understand cultural expectations so that they can successfully navigate through society. DS1 wanted to grow his hair out long, which was fine by me, but eventually he asked to get it cut because everyone called him a girl. DS2 is going through a phase where insists that he's a girl, mostly because he's got a pink backpack and likes wearing barrettes and hairclips. And really, I feel like the ages of 6 and 3, respectively, are too early to bring up the notion of transgenderism, so I've been sticking to the you've-got-a-penis-so-you're-a-boy definition.
So, in the end, DS1 will get both an electronics kit and a dollhouse for the holidays, because I see some of the same wistfulness in his eyes when he plays with toys at other people's houses. I just hope he doesn't mind if I play with his electronics kit, too.
capsicumanuum, because my comment there was spiraling out of control. The winter holidays are fast approaching, and DH and I were discussing gift ideas for our kids. DH suggested an electronics kit. "You know, like the kind where you can build your own simple devices like radios and stuff." And I looked at him and said, "No, I don't know what you're talking about. Those toys were for boys."
Even though I grew up with the firm belief that I could grow up to be whatever I wanted and was better at math and science than 99.9% of the boys, I still managed to internalize a lot of gender stereotyping. I might gaze wistfully at the boys' toys, but I would never let myself play with them. I was reminded forcefully of this when I went to see the Transformers movie this summer. I distinctly remember avidly watching episodes of the TV series, heartily wishing all the while that girls could have cool toys like that, too.
DS1 is in Cub Scouts now, and they had their Raingutter Regatta on Monday. In his pack, siblings are welcome to participate in all activities, and I watched a couple of little girls happily puffing away at the sails of their boats. And again there was that wistful tug at the heart: if only my parents had let me do that, too.
Then again, yesterday I played soccer for my former institution in its semiannual intramural competition. The rule is at least two women on the field per side, because although we women are just as capable scientists are the men, physically we are just not as tall, not as muscular. Having the rule gives us the opportunity to play, because otherwise the teams would consist only of hulking brutes. But there was a definite sense that the normal jostling that takes place on the field was less acceptable if a woman was involved.
My kids are trying to sort out gender differences, too, and it's hard. On one level, I want them to know that gender identity is fluid, and that everyone figures out for herself or himself what it means to be a man or woman. At the same time, they need to understand cultural expectations so that they can successfully navigate through society. DS1 wanted to grow his hair out long, which was fine by me, but eventually he asked to get it cut because everyone called him a girl. DS2 is going through a phase where insists that he's a girl, mostly because he's got a pink backpack and likes wearing barrettes and hairclips. And really, I feel like the ages of 6 and 3, respectively, are too early to bring up the notion of transgenderism, so I've been sticking to the you've-got-a-penis-so-you're-a-boy definition.
So, in the end, DS1 will get both an electronics kit and a dollhouse for the holidays, because I see some of the same wistfulness in his eyes when he plays with toys at other people's houses. I just hope he doesn't mind if I play with his electronics kit, too.
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My head is a very nice place to live.
Date: 2007-11-29 04:11 pm (UTC)What I did have, though, was boy books.
Most of the books that I really really remember from elementary school were boy books. Matthew Looney and the Space Pirates. Encyclopedia Brown. Some other kid detective who did more science (Einstein Anderson?) Hardy boys. John Bellairs horror novels. I did read lots of girl books (more so starting in middle school). But I'm very glad I was able to read so many boy books.
I realized something when I was reading "Richard Scary's Busy Busy People" to your DS1 years ago. When there are male characters in a book I tend to think of them as gender neutral. Men or women could be doing those jobs. (This is particularly strong in "Busy Busy People". The people in pants could be either male or female. The people in skirts had to be female. So women can do anything, but men can only do some things.)
So I could identify as closely with the boys who were heroes as the girls.
My skills got even more elaborate when I started reading badly gendered science fiction -- when there weren't female characters my brain just filled in an equal and opposite gendered bunch of people somewhere else. Like this was the all-male space ship, and elsewhere in space was the all female spaceship. Of course women could do any of those things, and were, just outside the frame of the story. It was only when women characters were present and insipid that my trick didn't work.
Like I said, my head is a nice place to live, if a bit odd.
Re: My head is a very nice place to live.
Date: 2007-11-30 03:35 am (UTC)