Boy Talk
Ever just want to haul off and smack the crap out of some seven year old? Yeah, I wouldn't have thought I would, but there you go: you learn something new about yourself every day.
Doodles and Sweetie and I were sitting on the front porch. The ice cream truck had just rolled down our street, and I let Doodles get a treat. He scanned the offerings and immediately glommed onto a Dora popsicle. He sat on the front porch, licking Dora's hair. He was as cute as could be, with his hair in lovely pigtails. Sweetie Pie is at a point where her hair is simply big. With the curls, the hair goes out instead of down, creating something of a baby 'fro, so I usually put her hair in pigtails or barrettes. Whenever I do so, of course, Doodles wants pigtails or barrettes, too, and I'm happy to oblige.
An older boy from down the street came ambling up. A younger older boy (does that make sense) was also playing nearby. "Is that a Dora popsicle?" the older boy asked in horror. Doodles kept licking and, hackles rising, I said, "Yes." The older boy turned to the younger older boy and sneered, "Look at his hair! Maybe he's a girl!" While I wanted to smack the kid and yell, "What? Are you already feeling insecure about your manhood?" I controlled myself and simply said in a chilly voice, "I can assure you, he's a boy." Something in my tone, though, must have given me away, and he took off.
Now, let me say, it's not the "girl" part that was offensive--I don't find "girl" to be an insult. It was the tone and intent. Luckily, Doodles kept happily eating his Dora popsicle, but it made me really sad that at this young age he's going to be facing people with such hardened notions about gender. And it also made me feel completely vulnerable, with this sudden insight that I can't protect my little boy from the world, that there are people out there who are going to be mean and nasty to him and there's not a thing I can do about it. My little boy is a sensitive, polite, caring child, and I'm so very proud of him. I'm going to teach him that boys can like Dora, wear pink, and put their hair in pigtails. And then I'm going to show him how to throw an uppercut followed by a left hook. That should take care of things.
Doodles and Sweetie and I were sitting on the front porch. The ice cream truck had just rolled down our street, and I let Doodles get a treat. He scanned the offerings and immediately glommed onto a Dora popsicle. He sat on the front porch, licking Dora's hair. He was as cute as could be, with his hair in lovely pigtails. Sweetie Pie is at a point where her hair is simply big. With the curls, the hair goes out instead of down, creating something of a baby 'fro, so I usually put her hair in pigtails or barrettes. Whenever I do so, of course, Doodles wants pigtails or barrettes, too, and I'm happy to oblige.
An older boy from down the street came ambling up. A younger older boy (does that make sense) was also playing nearby. "Is that a Dora popsicle?" the older boy asked in horror. Doodles kept licking and, hackles rising, I said, "Yes." The older boy turned to the younger older boy and sneered, "Look at his hair! Maybe he's a girl!" While I wanted to smack the kid and yell, "What? Are you already feeling insecure about your manhood?" I controlled myself and simply said in a chilly voice, "I can assure you, he's a boy." Something in my tone, though, must have given me away, and he took off.
Now, let me say, it's not the "girl" part that was offensive--I don't find "girl" to be an insult. It was the tone and intent. Luckily, Doodles kept happily eating his Dora popsicle, but it made me really sad that at this young age he's going to be facing people with such hardened notions about gender. And it also made me feel completely vulnerable, with this sudden insight that I can't protect my little boy from the world, that there are people out there who are going to be mean and nasty to him and there's not a thing I can do about it. My little boy is a sensitive, polite, caring child, and I'm so very proud of him. I'm going to teach him that boys can like Dora, wear pink, and put their hair in pigtails. And then I'm going to show him how to throw an uppercut followed by a left hook. That should take care of things.
2 Comments:
thanks for posting... you're posts always make me smile - and think - and smile some more. it's like I'm seeing a picture of your life! I just spent the weekend with Meg/Kevin, Steff/Eric, and Beth/Jed... they all said hi!
When I was a Boy, Dar Williams
I won't forget when Peter Pan came to my house, took my hand
I said I was a boy, I'm glad he didn't check.
I learned to fly, I learned to fight, I lived a whole life in one night
We saved each other's lives out on the pirate's deck.
And I remember that night when I'm leaving a late night with some friends
And I hear somebody tell me it's not safe, someone should help me
I need to find a nice man to walk me home.
When I was a boy, I scared the pants off of my mom,
Climbed what I could climbup on
And I don't know how I survived, I guess I knew the tricks that all the boys knew
And you could walk me home, but I was a boy, too.
I was a kid that you would like, just a small boy on her bike
Riding topless, yeah I never cared who saw.
My neighbor came outside to say, "Get your shirt," I said "No way
It's the last time, I'm not breaking any law."
And now I'm in a clothing store, and the signs say Less is More
More that's tight means more to see, more for them, not more for me
That can't help me climb a tree in ten seconds flat
When I was a boy, see that picture? That was me
Grass stained shirt and dusty knees.
And I know things have gotta change,
They got pills to sell, they've got implants to put in, they've got implants to remove
But I am not forgetting
That I was a boy too.
And like the woods where I would creep, it's a secret I can keep
Except when I'm tired, except when I'm being caught off guard.
I've had a lonesome awful day, the conversation finds it's way
To catchng fireflies out in the backyard
And I tell the man I'm with about the other life I lived
And I say now you're top gun, I have lost and you have won
And he says "Oh no, oh, no, can't you see
When I was a girl, my mom and I, we always talked
And I picked flowers everywhere that I walked
And I could always cry, now even when I'm alone I seldom do
And I have lost some kindness,
But I was a girl too.
And you were just like me, and I was just like you."
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