gender stereotypes

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August 15, 2010

Department of WIN: Polarn O. Pyret

Posted by rosemaryterrace under clothing, gender stereotypes, links | Tags: , , , , , , , , , |
[7] Comments 

What a slogan!

Not for girls.

Not for boys.

We make clothes for children.

I love this slogan. It sums up everything I want in a clothing store for my child. We gender children’s clothing way before there is much in the way of difference between body shapes, to the extent that even clothing that we might describe as “neutral” (no bows and ribbons; no skulls and crossbones) is gendered by the colour it is (olive green for boys, pale yellow for girls, for example; even blue clothing, for example, has a “girl” shade and a “boy” shade), and vice versa (and orange top, for example, will be marked as “girl” or “boy” by either a subtle puffing up of the sleeves or a small car motif, for example). And it will be gendered, in most shops, by actually putting clothes in different aisles according to gender. (In my local Asda, for example, “boy” and “girl” clothes are even separated by the service counter!) And I’m sick of it and have been sick of it for a long time. (Also, lest we forget, “boy” and “girl” are not the only two genders in the world; we also don’t know for certain that our female assigned child is a girl, and our male assigned child is a boy, until they tell us, which relies on them having the words and us listening. So talking about “children” makes much more sense!)

So in terms of slogan and the idea behind it, Polarn O. Pyret gets my vote. Also in terms of placement within online store; clothes are sorted by type (trouser, dress, top, etc) rather than by gender. This is exactly how I want to search for clothes for my child; does he need a new pair of trousers? Let’s look at trousers then; rather than having to sort by boy or by girl, I can get the full range and choose for myself.

The clothes also look to be of a good quality; outdoorsy, rough and tumble clothes rather than decorative (actually, I don’t have a problem with decorative, and most children enjoy self-adornment; it’s when it’s limited to one gender that I’ve a problem).

The only drawback? The price. And here’s the thing; once again, being able to afford to support a shop with such important ideals, being able to dress your child in good quality, ethically sourced clothing, is very much the privilege of those with a certain amount of money. For example, should I want to buy my child a pair of trousers, I’m looking at over thirty quid. I couldn’t even justify spending thirty quid on a pair of kecks for myself, let alone a child that’s going to grow out of them in about a year’s time.

I do understand why places like this are expensive; it’s not cheap to be ethical, it’s not cheap to care about who makes the clothes you sell and it isn’t cheap to care about where the material in your clothes comes from. I get that; I’m glad they exist even though they’re way out of my price range. I hope parents (and anyone who buys clothes for children) with money will support this store as much as possible.

What doesn’t cost a company money, however, is having a unisex slogan like Polarn O. Pyret; it also doesn’t cost money to sort clothes by size and type rather than by gender. I hope the kind of companies I can afford to shop at follow suit. I might even add one or two bought pieces to my child’s lovely pre-loved hand-me-down collection then!

 

October 28, 2009

Learning to be “papa” too

Posted by rosemaryterrace under gender stereotypes | Tags: , , , , , , |
[12] Comments 

At a La Leche League conference, someone – I think it might even have been the famous Diane Wiessinger herself – was talking about the words mama and papa. She said papa, or dada, with its hard consonants, may have been latin baby speak for “play” or “fun”: pa! pa! pa! da!, like a kind of clapping and excitement. Whereas mama, with its softer sound, she thought was similar baby speak for milk, comfort, nurture, a mixture of a plea and a cry: maaaa! mamamama!, and so on.

Now, I love that La Leche League helps mothers to breastfeed and supports gentle parenting practices. I’m not quite so thrilled that they also seem to reinforce gender role stereotypes and heteronormativity. (Although, in fairness, they do at least put a lot of emphasis on the father supporting the mother and playing his part, which is better than nothing at all. Grateful for small mercies and so on.)

And in that vein, I raised an eyebrow at the mama/papa thing (and my internal bullshitometer lit up too), but I could also see what she meant; it is a common stereotype that the mother is there for nurture and milk and cuddles and comfort; Dad, if there is a present father, is there to throw the baby up into the air, tickle the baby, kick the football around outside with the toddler and so on.

But the thing is, when I lived with my child’s father, I did find our roles going down this route, and to be honest, it did suit my personality. I found that I was much better at the cuddling, the endless rocking and soothing, the humming Scarborough Fair two hundred times before sleep, the nursing, and so on. I enjoyed that. My ex husband was much better at the games and the fun, from peekaboo to silly dancing.

(Please understand: I’m not saying, by the way, “I found myself better at the traditionally female stuff therefore it is true that all women everywhere are better at this and the feminists are wrong!” I’m just talking about where my skills, personally, lay.)

I was happy for this arrangement to continue and for me to take the “mama” role, the nurturing and comforting. I wasn’t, obviously, so happy that “the nurturing role” had to include all the nappy changes, all the getting up in the middle of the night and yet also, somehow include “going out to paid work full time so we can have Lots of Nice Things”. The Second Shift, and the third, and fourth, and the night shift, and the morning shift – taking all these shifts I wasn’t so happy with. But the mama=nurture; papa=play was fine in my house and suited our abilities down to the ground.

And then we split up.

My ex husband still sees our child and has him for regular overnight stays. Despite some misgivings, and missing the little one terribly when he’s not with me, I still believe this is – at least for now – the best option available.

But it has meant I’ve had to learn new skills. I’ve had to learn to be “papa”. And that’s been hard. Acting silly, getting down on the floor and being a climbing frame, running around and shouting with my hands in the air, pretending to be a character from a television show, pulling silly faces, kicking a football around the garden – well, it’s not come easily to me. Maybe it’s because we’re led to believe that playing and silliness is “unladylike” somehow. Maybe it’s just because it doesn’t suit my personality. Maybe it’s a bit of both.

But I’ve had to do it. And the thing is, I think it’s been good for me. I’ve got back in touch with that silly side that disappeared as I grew older and only ever reappeared when I’d had a fair number of real ales! I’ve got down on my hands and knees and crawled around the house pretending to be a French cow called Madame. I’ve run around the supermarket pushing the trolly far too quickly and causing a commotion. I’ve asked random people driving heavy machinery what it is called, and what it does, and I’ve learned that not every lorry that has a barrel on it is an oil tanker by any stretch. And much more.

And I’ve even passed on that nurturing skill via play. My child now puts his teddy bears to bed and carries a doll in a sling.

As my child has grown older, the amount of nurturing time he needs has lessened, and the amount of playtime he’s needed has grown. If me and my ex husband were still together, and we’d kept to our roles, I can imagine I would have found myself spending less time with my child as he grew, and spending time instead tidying and cleaning the house while my child and his father played games outside.

And maybe this is the way that La Leche League thinks it should be, with fathers taking a greater and greater part in their children’s lives as they grow older, and mothers taking a back seat similarly. And I’m sure that works just fine for some families, and might even have worked for ours in different circumstances.

But now, I’m glad the split forced me to learn to be “papa”, too. I look back and I realise I could have lost out on an awful lot if that had carried on. And I still get to nurture and cuddle and sing to and nurse my child, although less often these days.

And, even if only a little bit these days, my ex husband has had to get in touch with his inner “mama”.

 

September 1, 2009

Free To Be… You And Me (part 10 of 17)

Posted by Anji under gender stereotypes, video
[5] Comments 
 

July 20, 2009

Rape & Sexual Violence – Another Reason for PHSE in Schools

Posted by Annika under education, gender stereotypes, general public, violence | Tags: , , , |
[4] Comments 

TRIGGER WARNING: This article may cause some upset to survivors of rape and sexual violence. It may cause some upset to all readers.

Womankind is currently in support of PHSE of becoming part of the national curriculum.
“This is an exciting and excellent opportunity to get lessons on healthy relationships, gender stereotypes and violence against women into the school curriculum. To ensure that young people receive education to prevent violence against women. It is really important that there is a positive response to this consultation. (Apparently there have been 16,000 negative responses!)”

Hannah White
UK Policy Manager @Womankind

(There is an online questionnaire for this, so if you want to show your support in on young people having PSHE, here’s the link: https://qca.custhelp.com/cgi-bin/qca.cfg/php/enduser/doc_serve.php?&5=46)

An example of why we need Personal Social Health Economic Education in schools? Here you go.

Dispatches: Rape In the City – Anybody watch this? It was on Channel 4, Monday 22nd June, at 8pm.

I watched it, I had to. I wanted to get a glimpse into the teenage world, and learn a little more about what they are facing.

Gang rape and lots of it.

I was horrified by this. Not because I had no idea such things happen, but because I didn’t realise to what extent. Girls are being ‘punished’ by boys through rape and sexual assault. Also, let’s not forget the part some girls play in encouraging these boys to rape.

Young girls are threatened with knives, beaten and gang raped, sometimes for hours, sometimes recorded on mobile phones. Young girls organising rapes to fit in with gangs, and also out of fear the same might happen to them. The attitudes the boys had towards girls and sex were appalling to say the least. One girl had been invited around to a friend’s house; on the understanding they were going to watch a DVD together. Instead, she had found he had invited round some friends who then raped her. She was tricked.

Another girl witnessed a gang rape at a party, but walked away because she was scared it might happen to her. She said “There was just loads of boys and the girl’s tights were ripped up, like, she was bleeding as well, because I think she was a virgin, and they were just taking turns on her basically, and she was crying, and I didn’t get involved because I thought if I get involved they’re gonna turn on me.”

According to some of the girls interviewed for this programme, teenage boys don’t understand what rape is.

This is not the first time I have seen something like this.

On the F Word blog earlier this year was the following: http://www.thefword.org.uk/blog/2009/01/sexual_bullying

And this:  https://mail.bswaid.org/go/http://www.thefword.org.uk/blog/2009/02/slut_shaming_in

Who is to blame here?

Teenagers? Well they have to learn such behaviour and attitudes from somewhere, surely? And it can’t be about what they are wearing, wearing a hoodie doesn’t make you a rapist.

What about parents? We can only teach our children what we can, but we can’t always control what they learn when they are out and about, can we? Our children can be just as affected by society as we are.

Or school? Shouldn’t PSHE involve some form of sex education, and maybe something about respectful relationships?

We need to be making a difference for children and young people. It frightens me that this is something my daughter could be exposed to or experience, as this is her generation. It frightens me that if I have a son, he might think this behaviour is acceptable, because his friends say so. Teens hurting other teens in this way is incredibly wrong, and it has to stop.

Colleagues of mine deliver a domestic violence programme in schools, as part of PSHE. They talk about domestic violence, good and bad feelings, positive relationships, bullying etc. They deliver this programme in primary schools and secondary schools, teaching through activities which encourage all to take part. They also go in at break times, giving children the opportunity to come and speak to them in a ‘safe surgery’ about anything that might be worrying them. Disclosures are made, and my colleagues work with teachers to make sure any necessary steps are taken, and the child is safe. This is for domestic violence, and it works well.

Now, the same awareness needs to be raised on sexual violence.

Schools need to teach our children about sexual violence and sexual harassment. They need to know what is and isn’t acceptable. They need to know what rape is. They need to know what sexual assault is. This is important for both girls and boys. Boys need to know that it is unacceptable to treat girls and young women with such disrespect. Girls need to know this isn’t ‘normal’ and it is not acceptable to help organise something which harms another person in this way. It isn’t something you ‘allow’ because you want to be popular. That isn’t a real choice, surely?

The Dispatches programme mentioned teenage girls agreeing to oral sex with two or three boys, and then ordered to ‘have sex’ with six or seven. Otherwise known as rape.

Maybe raising awareness of sexual violence in schools isn’t going to ‘fix’ the ‘problem’. But it’s a start, and it’s got to make some kind of difference.

 

June 13, 2009

“Raising Boys”? Really?

Posted by rosemaryterrace under discipline, food/nutrition, gender stereotypes | Tags: , , , , , , , , |
[10] Comments 

I read a review recently over the the F word of a book I was seriously considering buying. Thank goodness I did. I’ve a feeling the book might have pushed my blood pressure sky high.

The book was “Raising Boys” by Steve Biddulph. I’ve read a couple of articles by this author, and to be honest, much of the time he’s been fairly spot on when it comes to the things I’m a fan of, like full term breastfeeding, co-sleeping etc., some of the things that often come under the banner of “attachment parenting”.

Why would I, a feminist mum, even consider buying a book like this in the first place? I mean, surely in that Glorious Utopian Future gender won’t matter at all anyway? Why would I treat my kid any differently than a girl if he turns out to be making the journey along the “path to manhood“?

(As an aside, and the reviewer of the book didn’t mention this, I’d be interested to learn if Biddulph ever points out that a kid being born with a penis isn’t necessarily a marker for that kid being a boy? Or that not every kid that grows into a man will be born with a penis? Because I would place a rather large sum of money on Mr. Biddulph not mentioning this at all. And I bet intersex kids don’t figure on his radar. Or genderqueer kids. But, in all fairness, I haven’t read it – please feel free to correct me.)

Those of you who know me will know that I’ve not been having the best experiences with adult men recently. And I’ve even occasionally found myself coming out with the usual “all men are bastards” “bloody men” etc.

Fact is, I’m really hoping all men aren’t bastards. Because my child is probably going to be one, one day. I’m hoping that there’s going to be a pleasant, non-bastard niche he can find in which to grow.

And though, at this young age, gender neutral parenting seems the way to go, when he’s a bit older? I’m not so sure.

Because, and before we even get into the effects of testosterone, boys come under so many influences from the outside world that we need something a bit beyond “no toy guns, wearing pink clothes now and again, get him to help with the housework etc.” (I’m aware that most feminist parents do a heck of a lot more than this, but I have heard it couched in similar terms!)

But of course, it’s easy for me to come out with this. After all, I’m Mum to a two year old. I’m still at that stage where my child is just a kid, I don’t have to worry too much about the other boys in his class egging him on to more and more dangerous stuff; about them bonding together over misogyny; over him receiving messages his role is about fighting (under the guise of “protecting”) and working himself into the ground (under the guise of “providing”) and much, much more.

Don’t get me wrong, there are still influences even on a two year old, but they can be tempered a lot by parental influence. As he gets older? I’m not so sure.

I think a lot of feminist parents (that I’ve come across) believe that by encouraging behaviour that is largely considered “feminine” in their little boys, they can help raise a well-rounded individual (and that rare, but not extinct  creature, a man who does housework without being asked).

The other day on twitter, Anji tweeted a feminist quote about few having the courage to raise their little boys more like little girls, or words to that effect.

And again, I think this is a start. But I don’t think it’s nearly enough. Because once we reach the stage where we know the end product is going to be a man, we’ve got a distinct kind of fight on our hands.

And you know something? A man who doesn’t do the housework without being asked? One of the very, very least of my worries.

I’m worried about the men that rape. The violent men. The emotionally abusive men. The men who get together with their friends to get one over on the ex. The men who turn misogyny into an art form. The men who look to all the world like “respectable” men but are seething angry on the inside. The men who everyone believes are the “perfect father”, right up until you read the newspaper article where they’ve killed their ex and the children. The men who start big businesses with the aim of fucking everyone else over.The men who start wars. The men who have the power to change things for the better, but instead change everything for the worse.

So if the worst thing that happens to my kid is that he grows into a man who occasionally leaves his dirty boxies around for his girlfriend/boyfriend? I can deal.

But before we can deal with making sure little boys don’t turn into That Kind of Man, we have to know what it is that causes it in the first place. And that is quite painful, because if we’re saying we are capable of tempering it, does that also mean that we, the parents, also play a hand in causing it? We surely don’t want to believe that. Aside from the mother blaming that will surely be inheret in such a conclusion – well – it just doesn’t feel very nice!

But what’s the alternative? To say we don’t have any influence at all? Or that the influences from outside are just too powerful? Influence and fault are linked, albeit less obviously than the likes of the Daily Fail would have us believe.

And I do think we have influence. Or at least, I hope we do. Because I don’t want my kid to grow into One of Those Men. So where to start?

I’m opening this thread up to ideas from everyone, but I wanted to start with just one of my own – a straw I’m clutching to at the moment, but still.

——

If we want to stop our child from being negatively influenced by peer pressure, we have to make sure our child has the strength to say “no” to people who are trying to get him to do something. (We also have to make sure that somehow he knows that thing – if it is something nasty – is wrong.) We need to make sure he doesn’t bow to negative peer pressure; give him the strength to say no in the face of very powerful opposition.

And what’s the most powerful opposition in a toddler, or young child’s life? Er, that’s right. You are. The parent. And if you never, ever allow your kid to say “no”, or to disagree with you, aren’t you showing them that they must alwayus do what the more powerful person/people say? If the boy isn’t allowed to disagree with you, to have his own opinion, to tell you, no, actually, I’d like to go to bed at nine tonight, or no, I don’t want to turn the television off, but you say, you will do it, because I say so and I am the person in the position of power here, and force that child to capitulate every time?

Aren’t you teaching him that (a) might is right and (b) you aren’t allowed your own voice of dissent and (c) power is a good thing to be able to get because it means you can tell people what to do all the time?

Obviously, the argument holds truth the other way too; if you always let your child do absolutely everything they want, you’re probably not presenting that great a model either.

But shouldn’t there be room for discussion? For compromise? Even for honesty “I want you to go to bed at eight because my girlfriend and I want to spend some time being grown ups / because I want you to have a good night’s sleep so we’re all fresh for the park tomorrow / etc. but you can read in your bedroom if you like”? Or, “I know you don’t like the taste of sprouts, but I want you to have a healthy body; what other options do you think we could come up with for green vegetables?/ I realise now you don’t like sprouts, but I’ve bought and cooked them now, and they’re very expensive, what sauce would you like to put on them to make them more edible? / I see you don’t like sprouts. Mummy likes sprouts. You can have Mummy’s peas.” etc.

I really want ideas here for feminist parenting especially how it pertains to boys, particularly if they fit in with attachment parenting / unconditional parenting but just any ideas are welcome. So, dear readers, over to you!

 

May 30, 2009

First Time Mum

Posted by Annika under birth, breastfeeding, gender stereotypes, introduction, post-natal depression, pregnancy, the "terrible mum" complex
[10] Comments 

You want to know something?

 I never really got motherhood, before I had my baby a month ago. Even when I was pregnant, it was hard to think of ‘us’ as opposed to ‘me’.  I had all sorts of ideas of what I would and wouldn’t feel, and where I would fit in the world.

I’m probably stating the obvious here, but being a mum is hard work.

I never for one second thought it would be easy, but it is so much harder than I first thought.

I was so determined to breastfeed, ‘breast is best’ and all that. I wanted my baby to get the best start; breastfeeding has so many benefits for babies. Had visions of me bonding with my daughter while she fed, and loved that very idea of closeness. I tried, and failed miserably. Although she had fed while we were in hospital, she didn’t feed so well when we came home. I didn’t know and thought she was feeding. My midwife came out a few days later and weighed my daughter; she had lost loads of weight, more than expected. I felt like a terrible, terrible mum. My baby had been hungry, and I hadn’t known. I felt so guilty, and had failed her. The midwife tried to give more support with breastfeeding, but my confidence had been knocked and my heart wasn’t in it. I had already failed and let my child down. So what did I do? Straight onto formula and haven’t looked back since.

I wish it had gone better, I wish I had stuck to it and given it another go. The guilt from my little one not feeding was too much, I didn’t trust myself to try it again as I might do it wrong again.

I always assumed I’d get a big rush of love the first time I held my child. I didn’t. I thought maybe it was because I was tired, or a bit sore; the ‘love’ will come after I had a good rest. It didn’t.  The only thing I felt was guilt and numbness. Guilty because I didn’t have the ‘love’ and wasn’t successful with the breastfeeding. Numb because none of this was expected, and I didn’t know how else to feel. I felt suddenly overwhelmed with motherhood, and wondered if I would even measure up to other mums. I wondered if my inexperience showed when the midwife, health visitor or any other kind of visitor saw me with my daughter.  I felt like there was something very wrong with me, because I didn’t have the ‘love’, and I wasn’t expecting that. My partner seemed to have bonded with our daughter almost immediately, but I hadn’t.  And this made absolutely no sense to me, because seeing as I had carried her and then pushed her out; I would have thought I would have had no problem with bonding with my child. Wrong.

I spoke to the midwife who assured me that most women feel like this after childbirth. Apparently, it’s more common than we think; it’s just that nobody talks about it. She mentioned baby blues, and Postnatal Depression, and asked me if she would like me to mention it to the health visitor. She offered to book a counselling session for me, to see if it would help. Suddenly, I didn’t feel such a crappy mum for feeling all this. Big weights off my shoulders, well, some of it anyway.

It’s been 4 weeks since I had my daughter, and so much has changed.

Motherhood is hard work and demanding, the days go fast and I hardly get a moment’s peace. My daughter is growing so fast, it is hard to believe it and take it in. The feelings of love are coming slowly, the bonding has definitely started to happen, and I’m starting to feel a little more confident as a mother. I think a lot of my anxieties were caused by my idea of how a mum should be, and whether or not I would actually measure up to it. I didn’t want to let my midwife down or the health visitor down. I didn’t want anyone to look at me and think “She’s a shit mum.” I’m not afraid to ask for help when I need it, but didn’t want people thinking I couldn’t cope and shouldn’t be a mum.

I wasn’t expecting to feel any of this, and I wish we had been told about this in the antenatal classes.

But I’ve now come to the conclusion I won’t let other people’s expectations of a mother,  get in the way of what kind of mother I want to be. I will try not to put any pressure on myself to be or feel a certain way. I’m new at this; it’s a learning curve, and a whole new journey in my life.

I’m a feminist mum; this is a whole new concept to me. I will try and be the kind of mum I want to be, not the kind of mum society tells me I should be.  There is a difference, and I will remember this the next time I feel crappy.

Sorry for rambling on, I just wanted to share my experience so far.

 

April 8, 2009

On raising male children.

Posted by Anji under birth, gender stereotypes
[14] Comments 

I wrote this for my main blog and then figured it would fit in pretty well here, so here it is for your dissection.

I’ve read a lot in the radical feminist blogosphere about how radical feminist women ought to refuse to care for male children (funny how this doesn’t apply to say, Biting Beaver or Heart, both of whom have male children who as far as I am aware, raised/are raising their boys into adulthood and in Heart’s case at least, haven’t disowned them).

Regular readers will know I have a son, who is three and a half years old. I made a choice to continue with my pregnancy, using a choice that feminism gave me. If I hadn’t wanted a child, I could have easily chosen abortion, as I live in the UK and it is (still, so far) legal here. I didn’t choose that, I chose to have a child. The funny thing about conception is there’s no telling what you’re going to get. Without being told by one’s sonographer, it’s pot luck as to whether you get a male or female child. Here in Portsmouth it’s against the rules for them to tell you the sex of your foetus; you have to wait until it’s born. And I don’t know about you, but the women I know don’t have switches in their uteri to decide to only carry female foetuses.

So having made the choice to continue with my pregnancy, and having spent nine months carrying my baby, he was born and pronounced to be Orion (rather than Amidala, isn’t he lucky he wasn’t born female with that name picked out!). What would the anti-boychild feminists have had me do? “No thanks, I wanted a girl one, you can take this one away.” Quite aside from the fact that there are already too many babies and children unwanted in the adoption system as it is, I chose to have this child. I do not believe that raising a boychild in itself is an antifeminist act and I’ll tell you why.

One of the problems with a patriarchy is that we are all born into it. Children (and most adults!) don’t even realise they’re in it, and by the time that realisation is made by the few who do so, it’s often too late to undo all the ingrained thoughts, feelings and actions that have been imprinted since birth. Most parents don’t realise the damage that can be done by gender stereotyping, and go along with it because it’s just so normal to them.

Surely then, the best person to raise a boychild is someone who as a feminist recognises patriarchy and its stereotypes and constructs, and can actively work against it to try to raise the men of tomorrow to be unlike the men of today? I’m not saying they’ll be perfect. It might take a few generations to get it right. But we’re not going to destroy the patriarchy overnight either, that too will take decades or even centuries. The two – destroying patriarchy and raising boys into men who recognise and are active in destroying patriarchy – seem, to me, to go together like… well, two things that go together really well. :P

None of us is perfect. My son will have all sorts of influences on him, going against the feminist upbringing and education he is receiving at home. But I’m not the only one doing this, there are thousands of feminists raising boys, and this next generation will, with any luck, have a hell of a lot more boys-raised-by-feminists than the current one. And then the next generation will have even more, and even more. I’m not saying it’s women’s job to educate men/boys; of course it isn’t. But those of us who, having been given male children by the luck of the draw, decide to do the best we can to minimise patriarchal impact on our own boys should not be vilified.

I love my son. I had a choice and I chose him, and like many mothers I choose to do the best I bloody well can to raise him into a happy, healthy adult. I also choose to do the best I bloody well can to raise him against, rather than according to, the patriarchal stereotypes of the way that boys must be. Right now he’s too young to know that his penis means he’s meant to dress/play/act/behave in a certain way, and I have no intention of telling him any time soon.

Of course there are, and will be increasingly in the future, forces working against me to push him into a gender mould (my ex, his father, being one of them). Like I said, we won’t get it perfect the first time round. But we might change things just a little bit, and then we can pass the banner onto the next generation for them to carry on moving in the right direction.

Raising boys is very much a feminist issue. Boy children are always going to exist; better to raise them into decent human beings than to pass them on for the patriarchy to do as it will. I am utterly fed up of feminists who tell me it’s all about treating women as adults, turning around and telling me what I should and should not be doing according to their narrow view of what is and isn’t good for women. I think raising men who are aware of their privilege is good for women, because who knows – we might just end up with a neutral, equal society one day.

 

March 1, 2009

Shared parenting, or lack of /rant

Posted by rosemaryterrace under breastfeeding, gender stereotypes | Tags: , , , , , , , , , |
[13] Comments 

By Ruth Moss

(Rant alert).

The ever-brilliant Renee over at Womanist Musings recently wrote a post about how biology was not destiny. I can’t hope to explain succinctly so I suggest reading it yourself.

Thing is this. My biology does make me better at one or two jobs than my husband. He couldn’t have gotten pregnant. He couldn’t have given birth. He couldn’t have breastfed our baby.

But that’s basically it.

Now, I know there are one or two jobs that are “allied” with those things. So, for example, by being the lactating partner, certainly in much of the first year, it meant I couldn’t be apart from my baby for too long (unless I wanted what was for me extra, harder work in the form of pumping). This meant in turn, that it made sense for me to take as much maternity leave as possible.

(Aside: I am not anti the idea of “parental leave” rather than “maternity leave” at all but I do think discussions about it do need to take breastfeeding into account and often they don’t.)

That meant I ended up doing the baby-”duties” during the day when my husband was at work. Which again, I felt was fair enough.

It also meant I ended up doing the night feeds. Which again, I felt was fair enough. Until he got to about 16 months he couldn’t settle back to sleep without nursing, so I felt it was fair for it to be my job.

And that, my friends, is where it ends. That is the extent of the “destiny” to which my biology tied me.

We have: night-time nursing. Nappy changes whilst on mat-leave. Erm… that’s it. I even – even – accept that the fact I do paid work part-time meaning I am at home with my son part-time means I will be the one doing the tidying up after him, and the games we play together. I even may slightly, just ever so slightly, accept the guffins about prolactin and bonding, in the very, very early days.

What we do not have, what my biology has not tied me to, is this:

Washing and drying and putting away all the nappies. And the clothes. nd tidying the house from top to bottom. And washing the bath. And cleaning out the back yard of our dogs’ poo. And waking up every morning with the baby even if it’s five a.m. even if I’m working that day. And washing up after ever meal. And walking the dogs every day. And emptying the bins. And cleaning the kitchen. And doing all the “bits” shops. And sweeping up the dog hairs at least three times a day. And feeding the pets. And hoovering upstairs. And laundering all the bedding. And putting the bins out once a week. And… oh I could go on, but you get the picture.

And it seems to me, that herein lies the real problem, if you’re partnered with a man (and possibly if you are partnered with a non-lactating woman, too, but I have no experience of this). Because the truth is, there are some things your partner can’t do and only you can. Not many, but some. But it seems that it gets to the point where “you can do some baby things I can’t” = “therefore you should do everything else too”. I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve been told the only solutions are to either lose the first part of the equation (i.e. not breastfeed) or to somehow alter the first part of the equation (i.e. pump milk so partner can “share” the feeds, which conveniently ignores the fact that the work here is not equally split, and that the mother is still doing a job – pumping – which for some is actually harder than feeding direct in the first place!)

I realise I’ve gone and brought it all back to breastfeeding again and I have a habit of doing this. The fact is, to be quite honest, I think if I were bottle feeding I’d be in a very similar situation. I don’t believe that bottle feeding is this marvellous egalitarian solution to lack of shared parenting. I know many Mums who formula fed their babies only to find the promise of shared night feeds rapidly deteriorate under the guise of “but honey I’ve got to be up for work tomorrow!” (which funnily enough continued when both of them did paid work).

The problem is childcare is not paid and it is not valued in any other real, tangible way either. It is not appreciated and is certainly not matched with other work of equivalent value. I sometimes think about drawing up a table of every single activity I do during a 24 hour period and every single activity my husband does, and adding up who does more. My husband often says “but I do all the cooking! I do all the driving! (I can’t drive, and even if I could, we could never afford to buy or run a second car.) And I think, “yeah but I do x and y and z and a and b and c which more than makes up for these things…

Don’t even get me started on “I changed his nappy… for you“.

This was a rant, you were warned.

 

February 7, 2009

It’s just a bloody COLOUR!

Posted by Anji under gender stereotypes
[6] Comments 

Orion went out with his dad today, as he does most Saturdays. Apparently during their day out they went to get a new car seat. When they opened the box, they found it was pink. They’d ordered a silver one, so went back to exchange it. No problem with that, right?

Except this evening, Orion has been striding around declaring that pink is “rubbish-dubbish” and it’s “a girl’s colour” and that they “gave daddy the wrong one, they gave him a girl’s car seat” and on and on and flippin’ ON about how horrible pink is and how it’s only for girls.

I cannot even begin to express my rage.

Three and a half years of carefully trying to raise an intelligent, non-sexist young man, and one afternoon with his father undoes so much of my hard work.

I have spent the evening pointing out that George (a cuddly toy of his, from the 80′s show Rainbow) is a boy and he is pink, so pink can’t possibly only be a girl’s colour. And how Orion has his pink skull-and-crossbones pyjamas and he’s a boy, so it must be a boy’s colour too.

GodDAMN it. It’s just a colour! Why is it so important to his father to turn him against a damn colour? Is he doing it deliberately to annoy me? Is he perhaps insecure in his own masculinity, and so forced to turn my son against an innocent colour of the light spectrum to make himself feel better?

Orion is three and a half. He doesn’t even know yet that his biological sex is supposed to determine his behaviour and attire and every damn thing about his personality. I’d rather raise him to do the things he wants to, rather than the things that are prescribed to him by sexist societal conditioning.

I’m going to do my best to undo the damage and approach his father about this in a non-confrontational and polite manner. But at the moment, I’m bloody seething.

 

August 29, 2008

Breeched from birth

Posted by rosemaryterrace under clothing, gender stereotypes
[13] Comments 

I was thinking about Penni’s f word article the other day. I too have a little boy and am trying to raise him no differently than I would a little girl. It’s more difficult than you might think. Our culture seems to hard-wire us to treat little boys and girls differently. In fact there have been numerous studies showing that we do treat boys and girls differently, from birth:

As a general rule, we are much stricter with boys. We put up with crying and whining less, we discipline harder and more physically. We respond to crying girls faster and with more comfort. But we’re also more tolerant of adventurous or dangerous behaviour in boys than we are in girls.

But the fact is, that in the early months – years, even – it can be quite difficult to tell a baby boy from a baby girl. We can only treat boys and girls differently when we know which are girls, and which are boys.

Thankfully, we’re helped by the prevalence of pink and blue clothes that enable us to tell the difference between little boys, and little girls. Thank goodness. Otherwise we might treat small children equally. Who knows where that might lead? More adventurous females? More nurturing males? Oh heaven forbid!

I appreciate that as girls and boys reach puberty, their bodies do start to differ, and they tend to star requiring different shapes in their clothing (although obviously the clothing industry exaggerates these differences ad nauseum). But babies, toddlers and small children have very few differences at all. Little boys have a penis, which requires a slightly different fold of booster in a cotton nappy than the little girls’ nappy. That’s it. Oh, okay, I also accept that culturally, dresses are very strictly “female only” (although boys are “allowed” kilts). But apart from this, why the huge differences? Why is it so essential that we can tell little boys from little girls?

And I do think it’s damaging to separate them like this, and so early. I’m not sure that the baby boy or girl can internalise the difference between “pink” and “blue” (although who knows for sure?) but the danger comes when we know what sex they are and treat them accordingly.

As an aside, I also think that a lot of boys’ clothes – in particular, shoes in mainstream shops – are simply quite ugly. In two major supermarket chains the baby boys’ clothes are very conservative. They are all quite dark colours; browns, blacks, khakis and the occasional blue. Whereas in the same supermarkets, the girls’ clothes are awash with bright colours; purples, raspberries, pinks, reds and also blues. And that’s before we even get started on shoes. Here, not only is it the colours that are different, but the styles too. Boys have clunky, solid, almost military-looking blues, browns and dark greens. Girls have flimsy pinks and sparkles. Neither is particularly satisfactory, come to think of it.

I’m talking mainstream shops of course; there are some shops – internet based, mainly – that go against the grain and offer baby and toddler shoes chosen by colour or material, rather than stripping it down to gender. But in the main, what are we saying to our children? You are a boy. You must not like pretty things. Your role is purely functional. You must not be adorned in any way. You are meant to be practical. And you, you are a girl. You exist purely as decoration.

And remember, we treat them how we see them. Boys or girls. Ugly or flimsy.

I said earlier that I understood to some extent that culturally boys don’t wear dresses, but that I didn’t see why the rest of baby clothes had to be split according to gender. But when I looked into it further, I discovered that once, baby boys did wear dresses.

In fact, this tradition, of dressing boys in girls’ clothes until they were an older toddler / younger child, went on until the late part of the nineteenth century. Indeed christening dresses may well be a remnent of this. When a boy was ready to be dressed in boys’ clothes, it was called breeching, which referred to breeches, which were similar to trousers.

Apparently this was the point where the child’s father was more prepared to take an interest in the raising of the boy. I wonder if perhaps it coincided with weaning (either the mother weaning the child from the breast, or the child returning full-time from the wet nurse) as we know weaning tended to occur much later than it does in breastfed babies these days. There does seem to be a similarity in ages, anyhow, and we know that the final weaning was a kind of early “rite of passage”; weaning from the breast meant a child was finally independent from its mother or its nurse, as it could survive on other foods and fluids instead and did not need to have constant access to the breast. It would not surprise me if breeching coincided with weaning as the little boy was able to spent more time with the father away from the mother or nurse.

I wonder whether young children, in the main raised by their mothers rather than their fathers, were treated as more “gender neutral” before they were breeched, in those days? Or even treated all as “little girls”; responded to quickly when they cried, disciplined less harshly, discouraged from danger? I’m not saying the way we treat little girls is the “right way” of course, but that we should attempt at least to treat all babies the same way and see where their natural personalities take them.

However, babies now tend to be breeched from birth; the advent of ultrasound technology means we barely have a need even for gender neutral newborn-sized clothes (although a few manufacturers still produce these, as not everyone chooses to discover the sex of their baby).

I’m not sure our culture has the appitite to bring back the days of dressing all young children in dresses. But please, please, please can we have far more “gender neutral” clothes? We don’t really need to split clothes into “boys” and “girls”; can’t we just have them split into type of item? Rompers, trousers, t-shirts, vests, dresses etc., all in a vast array of colours; red, green, yellow and yes, pink, and blue.

Because if we don’t know if a baby is a girl or a boy, we will have to treat it as a baby human.

 

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