A few questions

Based on things I’ve overhead or read recently:

• Why do we assume that all boys like bugs? Or that only boys like bugs?
• Why do we all know what someone means if they say they want something in “a boy color?”
• Why do kids as young as four “know” that fairies are for girls (only)?
• Why do we discourage things such as long hair for boys, yet short hair is “cute” for girls?
• Why is empathy a woman’s natural art?
• Why do we assume that all boys like balls and that all men must be able to teach ball games to boys?
• Why are female baseball players extraordinary and male ballet dancers “gay/queer/strange?”

Any to add to the list?

Sometimes it’s best to let others speak…

I could not have captured these sentiments better myself.

http://www.abc.net.au/unleashed/stories/s2193119.htm

Eloquent. Insightful.

A clarification

Just a note to follow up on my last post (and yes, we’ve been away again, hence the dry spell in posting). I appreciate everyone’s thoughtful comments — I think that you see the tension that I feel sometimes between the need or want to educate, open minds, etc, and the desire sometimes to just BE. Be me, be with my boy, etc.

But, in the instance of the airport, I wasn’t considering correcting the woman who referred to Q as a girl. In reflecting on that interaction, I decided to write about it not because of the woman’s confusion, but because I discovered that, at the bottom of the many layers of discomfort that might occur, was my OWN discomfort at what might be thought or said about ME if I let on that Q is, in fact, a boy. My own fear of judgment — of me and my boy. And it was a bit of an ugly truth for me to uncover. And thus, I thought it warranted sharing as part of my own journey here. I’m always astounded when things come back to my own fear of discomfort or embarrassment, and I think that’s important to record and care. Hence the post.

Hope that clarified a bit.

More to come, but I’d also love to hear from you: What would you like to see on these pages? What stories? What reflections? What commentaries on issues beyond me and my boy but related to the topics herein? I’d love to hear from you.

Protecting them, protecting myself

Howdy folks…it’s been a while. Luckily, we were enjoying a bit of family r and r. Much needed. Much enjoyed. Now, very much back into the swing of things.

On our travels, which took us, with great luck, to the Caribbean, I found myself watching in a new way to see what folks, both local and tourists alike, noticed about my family, what they said about Q, etc. Much of the week, spent in a bathing suit, Q was referred to as a boy. And yet I found myself intrigued to watch the social dynamics that arose amongst some of the kiddos around the pool. While other boys were drawn to each other by that mystical magnet that draws kids together somehow, Q was not similarly pulled into the rough and tumble games, to the ball tossing, etc. He didn’t show any pull, nor did they offer up their so-called magnet to him. His magnet, however, seemed to pull the girls towards him — coming up and just starting to chat with him. He readily entered into play with them, chatting away. This dynamic is intriguing. Not because it’s abnormal. Not because I think the only “natural” thing is for kids to play with others of the same gender/sex. But mostly because it was the girls who sought out Q. And it doesn’t only happen on vacations. Q’s best friend is a girl, and I think this has always been the case. I think there’s an energy to him that draws him to girls and that draws them to him (I’m sure someone imagining he’s a teenager might be chuckling mightily here…). And it’s that energy that interests me. And I think that’s the same thing that mystifies others.

But getting down to the whole protecting myself and protecting others; the real point of this post. As we awaited our airplane for the return flight, Q and I were in the bathroom. True to form, he wore his favorite, The String Tanktop. In the bathroom, a woman heard him humming a lullaby and said happily, “Oh, she’s the one humming! Now I’ll be relaxed and able to sleep on the plane.” I smiled and chuckled, but didn’t correct her about Q’s gender (as per our frequent conversations/check-ins with him about this).

But then I set to reflecting on this interaction. It is easy enough for me not to correct others. They don’t know that they are wrong, and it’s simple to continue that way. So I thought at first, “Ah yes, the magnanimous person that I am, I’m protecting those who mistake Q for a girl from the embarrassment of revealing their mistake” (as this mistake does seem to cause SUCH embarrassment in the general public for some reason). Then, since our wait for the plane was Oh So Long, I began to peel off the layers of that interaction. And when I did, I had to face the truth that in not correcting others, I’m also protecting myself. The same old punchline, in a way. If I don’t correct a mistake about Q’s gender, then I don’t have to address any questions about why I “let” him wear the clothes he wears, etc. And I really don’t want to be confronted with any comments about how he needs to look like a boy, or anything of that ilk. And I know that many folks don’t harbor such comments. But some do. And I’ve heard them. So, while I feel justified in protecting myself to a certain extent, it also means I don’t have to go out on a limb to expose myself. And in exposing myself, that’s where I usually have the chance to broaden minds, to enlarge the territory that boys are seen to inhabit. So there is a cost to the protection. And also a benefit. So, a quandary. Of course.

Fear and Embracing

I find myself thinking a lot about the opposing polarities in my life lately and how, while sometimes diametrically opposed, there’s often a deeper, complementary level. With regards to mothering Q, it shows up in the form of fear and embracing/being embraced.

Here’s what the fear looks like: When we’re with folks who have yet to see Q in a dress, I often approach the situation with trepidation. This, in spite of the fact that my boy prances in happy and full of confidence. I find myself, in spite of my desire to trust the goodness in people, in spite of the past showing me overtly the open hearts that people have, fearing their reactions. What will they think about him? More importantly, what will they think about me? Where are my boundaries? Am I trying to damage him somehow by “letting him get away with this?” Though I know on some rational level that fear like this is often unfounded, it remains.

Recently we were at a celebratory gathering and I saw someone who I had met years prior yet who had never met Q. She said, “You have such a beautiful daughter!” In my eyes, he didn’t look particularly girlish that day, but I guess his clothes were enough outside the gendered norm to code as such. My heart skipped a beat at this. I took a millisecond to take a deep breath and then smiled and said, “Actually, he’s my son.” She smiled and said he was beautiful. No judgment seemed to cross her face. I feared her reaction. I feared what she might say to others about me. No matter if/how I know those others. And I must admit that I noted that Q likes to push the boundaries of gender with his clothing. Did I say it to make it okay? To explain further? To make me feel better? To make it his responsibility? I’m not certain, but I do know that fear played a role.

The thing, though, that is funniest (when I really sit back and think about it) about my fear here is that, in our day-to-day lives, it is rather unfounded. We live in a community that embraces our family and a wide variety of identities, so Q isn’t so “out there” given the spectrum around here. The same can be said for his school. Our friends too; of course we are closest to open-minded, loving, and embracing people.

So why do I still carry this fear around with me? I think it’s because of the bigger world out there. The world beyond the boundaries of my city or outside the walls of his school. The world that is unforgiving when folks don’t fit into widely accepted molds. Particularly when those folks are boys or men. So that’s where the fear is from, and I think a little bit of it creeps in even if I’m in the presence of folks who I know do not fit that “bigger world” mold.

And I think the fear will always be there. It definitely diminishes each time Q is known and loved for who he is, as opposed to judged. So the fear and the embracing work off of each other and are, in the end, two sides of the coin.

More soon on specific acts of love and embracing towards Q - truly amazing!

And a not-completely-recent photo as I must find the battery charger….my apologies.

Blogging for LGBT Families: Smacked in the face by compassion and understanding

This is my first opportunity to participate in Blogging for LGBT families day. I’ve read blogs in past years on this day, but never had one…until now. What a great concept to build community, visibility, and compassion. Which is really what my blog is all about.

I didn’t really know how, in particular, I wanted to approach this day. So I decided that I’d stick with my theme and share thoughts about my mothering journey, which is really all about a lesbian family.

What I’ve found since I’ve really started to pay attention to my own stereotypes, discomforts, and biases as I work to support and raise a healthy, gender-boundary-pushing son, is that allies are out there everywhere. When I worry the most about him announcing his love for purple or fairies or dresses, I’m most likely to be smacked in the face by compassion. Those are the moments that I love the most. It’s really because they are the most painful and cause me to peel away my biases about people and their perceptions of the world.

At first, I worried that straight folks would have the hardest time dealing with Q not fitting entirely into the boy gender mold. My worry, though, was a path directly into confrontation, as I realized that many of those straight folks are perhaps more understanding, more willing to embrace a boy outside of “gender guidelines” than some queer folks. While I haven’t experienced any discomfort from queer folks directly, I have definitely been heartened by the understanding, support, and compassion that straight parents of Q’s friends have shown him, which revealed to me the stereotypes that I have around sexual orientation and its correlation with open-mindedness. So yes, once again I my own stereotypes and narrow-minded thinking come back to smack me in the face. But in a good way, because I do believe that with that smack comes an opening of the mind, a relaxing of my defenses. And ultimately more love for Q.

Just yesterday, as we celebrated Q’s birthday, he received, among other things, two books about fairies. And that just made my heart glow. His friends and their parents know of his passion for fairies, and as opposed to sidestepping that passion and getting him something perhaps a bit easier to stomach as a gift for a boy, they boldly stepped out to gift him these books. Amazing. I know it’s a small act, but I do see it as an act of compassion and understanding. And an act that shows me the support that our small little lesbian family finds within our community. Most important, for me, is how that support manifests for my dear boy.

So blogging for LGBT families…I think I do it every day. I blog as a way of making my family visible and building support out in the world for others like us. I blog to create a closer-knit “family”/community around us for the moms and our boy, and I blog, honestly, as an exercise in expanding my own compassion, open-mindedness, and understanding.

If I say “beetle,” all you see are beetles

Of the car variety, that is. Have you ever noticed that phenomenon? Someone mentions they love VW beetles, and suddenly you see them all over? Or you see a witty bumper sticker for the first time, and the next thing you know, it seems that everyone at Whole Foods is sporting the same sticker? Well, it’s been like that for me since starting this blog. Sometimes in very small ways, and sometimes in profound ways.

On the subject of bumper stickers, yesterday I encountered one that said simply “Support tenderness in men,” or something perhaps a bit more elegant than my own butchered rephrasing. I thought to myself, “tenderness:” we’ve always known that our boy was tender in many ways. And I think that we’ve tried to nurture that tenderness, knowing that the world can use more gentle and tender men. More men who are in touch with their emotions and able to show them. And even though this sometimes means big crying fits for Q, it also means that he loves the simple beauty of a tender rose or the wonder of a butterfly’s precious wings. So it’s nice to know that there’s at least a few others out there vocalizing their support for tenderness in men (and boys).

And then there’s our dear friend X, who loves Q like no other can. And who, as you may have read in his comment, also struggles with the idea of Q wearing dresses on occasion, although he knows that deep down this is a learning opportunity for all of us (boy is it!). I know he’s been thinking hard about this whole concept of Q in dresses, Q and his identity, and how Q’s identity pushes at social boundaries at times. He related to us that he recently visited friends who have a boy near to Q’s age. Who also likes to wear dresses. So it’s not an isolated phenomenon, realized X. And he felt less alone, I think. And a bit more at peace, I think. And I think that’s why I write this too, to reach out to find out that I’m not alone, to open my eyes to other boundary-pushing instances, which are popping up all around me, and to let others out there who have kiddos like Q or hope to raise kiddos like Q know that they are not alone.

So lately, in seeing things like other boys at Q’s school outwardly embracing the fact that they love pink, visiting a classroom there and learning that it’s the boys who most love to play with the dolls and that the teacher embraces this, and seeing another boy or two pushing the gender envelope with his clothing, I don’t feel so much alone. I think it’s that beetle phenomenon. I’ve been thinking so much about Q and his unique identity. And then made the leap to share that journey publicly. And now, that journey begins to cross paths with others who may be along similar pathways. I like the eye-opening that is happening here.

Both/And

We’ve been in the midst of moving, hence the absence of posts in the last few days.

But, I wanted to come on to address an issue that came up in a comment, and that I’m sure might swirl around out there, if not now, at some point.

A reader wrote, “Have you ever thought that you might be pushing your own beliefs onto your son…. It seems to me that you WANT your son to be a homosexual or transgendered, and would feel dissappointed if he wasn’t.”

That, my friends, is a powerful accusation. And I believe that it’s actually at the root of why I started this blog in the first place. Let me try to explain. And please know, also, that I approved the comment in the interest of open dialogue and also in the interest of trying to further clarify my purposes and goals here, as it can be tricky for me to muddle through them.

So, as a lesbian, I fear OFTEN that folks will think that I/my wife and I are trying to turn our son gay/queer/transgendered/etc.. That somehow we will understand him better if he chooses a life similar to ours in the domain of sexuality. Or that my desire to promote understanding and acceptance of queer folks is somehow foisting my son into the spotlight as a mascot for “my cause,” so to speak.

Well, it couldn’t be further from the truth. What I’m really trying to do with Q, and what I’m trying to write about here in the hopes that others will do and think the same, is to open minds and broaden social boundaries. Implying that letting Q wear dresses is an effort on my part to put my agenda on him and turn him gay is completely the opposite of the truth. In truth, “letting” him wear dresses, headbands, read fairy books, etc is about me allowing him to set the agenda when it comes to expressing who he is. He is expressing his identity and passions inside a much larger arena than is normally seen for boys. And that is his agenda. Not that it’s a political agenda. Not that it’s an overt agenda. It’s just his agenda for being who he is and doing what he likes. And my job, and really my struggle here, is to support him in that so that he feels comfortable and confident being both a boy and someone who loves dresses; or both someone who loves purple and sparkles and magic wands and someone who loves running around like crazy. So, I believe that he’s leading this journey. And I am following, supporting, and grappling, as I’ve written, with my own internal issues around being a mother who has a son who wears dresses on occasions. And you should know that I also grapple with the fact that he plays soccer even though he told us he didn’t want to. And that sometimes I ask him to practice cello when he doesn’t want to. There is much to grapple with in motherhood, and this happens to be one of the most challenging things. And one of the areas that I believe has the biggest potential to reshape some folks’ perceptions about how the world is “supposed” to be, and how the world might be when Q is older.

Also, regarding the idea that I am attempting to mold Q into something that he may not be, I believe it is vitally important to recognize here that we’re talking about a 5 year old. A 5 year old who likes to wear dresses, read certain books, has a girl as a best friend right now — different things that push against the mold of what many folks expect from boys. But we are most certainly NOT talking about his sexuality, who he will be attracted to in the future, etc. The conflation of liking fairies or wearing a dress with one’s future sexuality is a prime example of the labels that society is all-to-fast to slap onto kids and adults. One’s play and dress preferences as a child do not correlate or cause one’s sexual preferences in the future. And I’m talking about Q, a 5 year old boy here. His preferences come and go in terms of what he wears, what he likes to play with, etc. Some of them usually sit beyond the normal social boundaries of what boys are expected to like. But these are not romantic or sexual preferences. At all.

And to the commenter’s final point about disappointment if Q is not gay or transgendered or queer or not heterosexual in some way. I really don’t care. I will support and love him no matter who he chooses to love. I will, however, be disappointed if he feels that he has to suppress his interests or his self-expression because of external pressures. That will be a true source of disappointment for me. All I want for my little boy is for him to value himself as an individual and to be able to express all of his passions and interests. Not much. Just that. Like any parent, I believe.

Gender Funneling

Last night, as I was watching random television, I invented a term for this phenomenon that bugs the heck out of me: gender funneling.

Gender funneling — verb. Actions that serve to constrict the choices available to children because of their sex. Actions ascribe certain identities, proclivities, and interests to children because of their sex. (I know I’m not Webster material here).

Here’s what I saw: A family with a boy and a girl created a new bedroom for the boy, who was three months old. It was full, top to bottom, with sports images and paraphernalia. And then the parents commented, “Well, we hope he likes sports when he gets bigger.” To me, that is a prime example of gender funneling. You take all of the possibilities that life presents to this little boy. And then the parents, because of their notions of what boys like/will like, narrow down those possibilities, funneling them down to only those they deem acceptable (i.e. sports for boys). I see this kind of pattern happen, unwittingly, all over the place. It happens on television, in books, in personal communications, in the toys offered for boys and for girls, in the clothes available.

The bottom line is that gender funneling simply promotes gendered stereotypes and sends messages to kids who don’t fit into those stereotyped roles that somehow they and their interests are somehow outside the norm.

Which brings me to the beautiful assembly at Q’s school this morning. It was a school-wide celebration of GLBT Pride. In and of itself, the fact that his school has such an event warms my heart and makes me teary. It’s hard to find such an open and embracing community. I was particularly touched, though, by a presentation by 1st and 2nd graders on gender stereotypes. They spoke about what these stereotypes are and how they are promoted in the media. More powerful, however, was how each of them shared how they, as individuals, break stereotypes. They then offered ideas for how the other children in the school could break stereotypes or push back on stereotypical statements such as “That’s only for girls.” Hearing these young people feel empowered as individuals making a difference in the world was powerful and affirmed for me that this is the right place for Q and our family for now.

More powerful, though, was this evening. We were out for a family walk, and I was asking Q about the end of the Pride assembly since I had to leave. He told me a few things. Then he paused for a moment. “I was smiling during the part on stereotypes,” he said (he remembered the word stereotypes?!?!?) I innocently asked him why. “Because of what they said about boys and girls being able to wear whatever they want. You know, they were right. That made me smile.” My boy saw himself in that presentation. On some level, he knew they were talking about him and to him. And the message made it in.

That experience will remain with him and empower him for a long time to come, I am sure. So in the face of a society that over-engages in gender funneling, the seemingly small acts of resistance like today’s presentation make a huge difference. Especially to one small boy.

Imposed Divisions

So here’s the thing: My son loves fairies. Loves them. He can’t read enough books about fairies. He sees fairies out in the world. He has two fairy friends (albeit introduced by me, but propagated by him) who live in his bedroom. They communicate through written notes. So why does a book about fairies have to be a GIRLS’ book? Really.

I know that fairies “typically” fall into the category of “girl things,” but oh how I wish that authors or publishers did not feel compelled to label this book about fairies (like so many other things) with the gender of children for whom they (wrongfully) intend it. This narrowing of the market also narrows our collective consciousness. Even if someone knew that Q loved fairies, I’m certain they would not share this book with him. It’s for girls after all. And now it sends the message to anyone and everyone that fairies are only for girls. And, most importantly, sends the message to boys that, if they like fairies, that is wrong. Or they are really girls. So much for the broadening and opening of minds.

Of all things, I see literature as a place where Q can open up his imagination. He can see himself in any character, because that happens in his imagination. And he has done this with books about fairies to this point. Even though they feature mainly female characters, he identifies with them, delves into the stories, brings them alive in his life and his play. And I fear that once he can read he will see labels like the ones on the book above and they will send a message, loud and clear, that something is wrong. This book (and these kinds of books) are not for him. Or, if they are for him, something must be wrong with him. And that narrowing of choices and possibilities angers me. Beyond belief.

I have a son who loves fairies. Please, just let that love flourish as opposed to being shut away by some external source that is trying to align with social norms. And in so doing unwittingly promoting them.