My two-year-old daughter, Elke, and I came home from Target with a pair of glitter shoes, and if that wasn't enough to trounce my reputation as an edgy suburban mom, I also bought a Disney princess coloring book adorned with even more glitter. It went down like this: Elke spotted Cinderella in multi-colored metallic and said, "that one."
Until that day, the only idols I worshiped in my house were enlightened -- and I don't mean by the seven dwarfs or fairy godmothers. We've got Buddha, Ganesh and the Hindu God, Shiva. I've engrained a feminist philosophy in my superhero-loving son that girls don't need saving. When we're watching "Star Wars," I have made him repeat this mantra about Princess Leia: "Don't mess with the Princess."
When I was pregnant with my daughter, I swore she would never wear pink. (I've since changed my tune.) I ranted about Disney marketing their royal court and quoted magazine articles about princess costume-wearing girls developing grandiosity issues. Princesses were girls with deservedly bad raps -- Princess Stephanie, Heather one, two and three, and Sleeping Beauty (what did she do?).
But then I saw the glitter shoes. And the Cinderella coloring book. And I wondered, is my anti-princess stance really necessary? After all, what's the harm in being a princess? It's pretend. It's playful. It's fluffy. Girls grow out of the princess phase by the time they're six, studies say. And besides, the fun in being a girl is about being a girl. Yet still, I felt that my feminist stance was somehow telling me to dismiss all those girly-girl feelings -- that sparkle shoes were out of the question, that pink should be put on the back burner. I wrestled with this. So sue me.
Then I read a column by Cinderella Ate My Daughter author Peggy Ornstein in which she pointed out a Target ad that follows triplets walking to school together with the Marlo Thomas' hippie mantra, "Free To Be... You And Me" blaring behind them. The girls start out dressed alike and then morph into individual styles: a soccer player dressed in yellow, a girlie-girl in a fuchsia tutu, and a nerdy type with baby blue glasses.
I used to think Annie Oakley's declarative song, "Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better," was the most empowering motto for girls. But after seeing this Target ad and experiencing my own unexplainable magnetic attraction to all things sparkly, I think Frank Sinatra's assertive "I Did It My Way," is more fitting.
If I'm gung-ho for my son to look beyond gender stereotypes, then isn't it true that I need to allow my daughter to be the person she wants to be -- even if it means dressing up like a Jasmine or Snow White? But what does it matter if my little girl dresses like a princess as long as she doesn't act like one?
So I talked to friend and poetry goddess, Nicole Cooley, author of poetry/parenting book Milk Dress, and who literally hand-fed feminist versions of princesses to her daughter early on. Her husband read princess books with new endings, "one that were all about agency and female control." Despite their efforts, her daughter became deeply drawn to the Disney princesses by three.
"Our opposition to Disney princesses fueled her to desire them more," Cooley says. They finally succumbed to her daughter's desire -- one that included a Disney princess-themed birthday party. "This is in part, for me, a mother-daughter lesson," she says. "How to let your girls go, how to allow them not to be you, how to let them be their own person, even if it is not what you envisioned."
Autonomy is part of the developmental process that parents love and dread. Their desires. Our values. Somewhere, there's a middle ground. In that regards -- the Target ad has it right. But Shauna Pomerantz, author of Girl Power, and a mother of a two-year-old girl, doesn't believe girls really have a choice. Marketers bombard us with such severity that it's difficult to distinguish what you like and what you think you like. While Pomerantz doesn't think princesses suggest individuality, she does believe a girl can take a princess and make it into something different.
"Princesses in and of themselves are problematic if they stay within that one stereotype,'" she says. "If it's one representation of girlhood then we're in trouble, but if the parents, teachers, or our culture, are willing to introduce different versions of what a girl can be," she continues, "that's girl empowerment."
We should probably give a few princesses some credit. There are a handful who break the mold. There's the aforementioned Princess Leia. There's Robert Munsch's book The Paper Bag Princess where the princess fights the dragon and saves the castle, only to be criticized by her prince because she's a mess. She responds as a strong-minded, secure princess should: "Your clothes are really pretty and your hair is very neat. You look like a real prince, but you are a bum." There's Mulan with her Kung Fu moves and sword. There's Princess Fiona, the chubby, tough cookie from "Shrek." And there's my daughter's new favorite: Rapunzel from "Tangled". She stands up for her beliefs, looks gorgeous and frilly and gets the handsome guy in the end.
I thought about these strong princesses the other day when my son's friend declared, "boys are stronger than girls." I clarified to the boys that I was a girl and currently stronger and taller than both of them. (I did not mention that I could kick their skinny tushies as well, but I was close.) Later, I asked my son: "What do you think about girls who dress up in princess costumes?"
"Silly."
"You know that boys and girls can dress however they want," I said. "A girl can be a princess, or she can be a baseball player."
"I know, Mom," he said.
"And if your sister wore a princess costume, it wouldn't make her weak."
"I know," he said, "but it's still a little silly."
Maybe he has a point. But at least it'll be her choice.
Follow Hayley Krischer on Twitter: www.twitter.com/hayleykrischer
Tracie Wagman: Mommies Can be Feminists Too
I was teacher on duty with a small group of 6-yr-olds, who came to their old preschool after kindergarten for a few hours each day. The girls wanted to draw princesses, and only princesses. And the boys wanted to practice their "bad" words. These interests were not from being "brainwashed" or influenced by unthinking adults. And, they all grew up and became individuals, and to my knowledge, none of the girls expect or insist on being pampered and none of the boys swear at people as they travel through this life. www.grandparentoptions.com
Actually I laughed a little when reading the article, because where I'm from if you call someone a princess its code for B*&^%.
Good mom!:))
Feminist. Check.
Mother of a young woman who was once a little girl...check.
I learned when my daughter was born that if I wanted her to be true to herself, I would have to let her have options...even ones that made me cringe. So I didn't forbid her to wear pink, I just made sure she had a rainbow of shades to choose from. She wore what pleased her. Check.
And when she was five, she wanted to be a princess for Halloween. So I found her a gorgeous dress at a clearance rack in a bridal salon, and we sprinkled the skirt with a star shaped sequins of every color. She looked lovely...and the next year she asked for a unicorn costume...and so on.
Today, she is a young woman in college. Pink isn't a big part of her wardrobe, but she fondly remembers a childhood that didn't feature "dictates" about who she would be, or day dream about being. She's smart, creative, kind...and just happens to be beautiful...and i could not be more proud.
Oh yeah...and she's a feminist...not because I am...or because she wants to please me...but just because that's who she turned out to be.
I know why she wants to be a Princess ;)
Princesses and Feminists isn't THAT far apart, if you think about it. I often hear feminists referred to as "Entitlement Princesses".
In certain contexts, that's pretty apt.
Kids should be allowed to be what makes them happy, and so should adult women. Little girls shouldn't be forced to be tomboys because prissy is no longer politically correct somehow. And women should be allowed to be what THEY want to be, work, stay home, mom, whatever. No judgement.
But what's so horrible about every once in a while the damsel getting saved as long as sometimes she saves the prince too?