Raising children to see themselves beyond pink or blue.

As a mother of two grown sons, it’s not often I find myself in the toy store anymore. But recently my 18 year old son, Drew and I found ourselves surrounded by Pepto-Bismol colored aisles searching for a holiday gift for a two-year-old girl in our lives. As we walked down the first aisle we passed baby dolls with strollers, bottles and even diapers (yes, some even leave you presents), a complete mini-kitchen with stove that claimed real sizzling sounds, grocery carts with food, mini-clothes washer and dryers with bonus laundry basket (woot!), a vacuum cleaner and even a microwave because apparently even the toddler set may need to get a quick meal on the table.

After some comments from Drew on demon faced dolls, we turned the corner to face perfection…Barbie. To say she has a business empire is putting it mildly. Cars, houses, horses, boyfriends galore! Then there are the clothes. More clothes than any girl could wear in a lifetime. I even saw a collection of her favorite jewelry, what a lucky girl! (I was even a bit envious of a pair of sparkly pink platforms.) Like a brick to the head I suddenly saw all of these ‘toys’ in a different light. What message are we sending? Is perfection babies, microwaves, cars and really great shoes? I do understand that Barbie has a job now, actually quite a few, which is wonderful to see. There were books for her to read and glasses for reading those books which reminds us that she is educated. But as a five foot tall Italian…that girl needs a cannoli. A daughter of mine would be hard-pressed to see herself in the tall, blonde, slender Barbie that we see everyday. A mirror would be a better gift to see what real beauty looks like.

Now, you are probably reading this thinking, “Carol, where have you been?  We’ve been talking about gender inequality in the media for decades now!”

The truth is that I’ve been busy raising boys. In defense of this revelation, I give myself props for trying to mix it up a bit when it came to my boys. When asked, my oldest will tell you about his first Christmas memory being the opening of a cabbage patch doll named Igor. He quickly told his father and I that Santa left him a girl present and he’d like to send it back. He was three at the time and the gender division was already showing itself. Why would Santa bring a doll to my rough and tumble little man? It’s simple really…to teach compassion. Parenting isn’t taught with a plastic doll but while he carried it around the house, slamming it on a floor or throwing it across the room, (we survived the terrible twos and threes) he was learning to think about someone other than himself. After one brutal temper tantrum while sitting for some ‘quiet time’ in a chair, I heard his little voice whisper to his beloved Igor that he was sorry for the beating that had ensued. He kissed that plastic head and my heart filled with pride.

Here’s my point.

It is our job as adults to show our children that the media, peers and even well intentioned friends and family shouldn’t be given the honor of deciding who they are, they need to do that themselves. Boys need to know that compassion doesn’t make you any less ‘manly’ and that hating sports is not a big deal, just as girls need to learn that they can play in the mud, hate pointy shoes and not fit the advertised image of perfection. Imagine if you had no fear of disappointing someone when you were a child. If you took a chance even when those around you rolled their eyes at your idea. Who would you be today? Would you be different than you are?

How can anyone tell us they know what is best for our children? We live in a society that from birth tells females that beauty is more important than brains, being a princess is better than being Queen* and that staying home, washing, cleaning and cooking is something so crucial for a girl to learn that it follows directly after learning to walk. In the same sense, males are handed hammers and nails and workbenches, dump trucks and shiny cars to race around a track. What about the little girls who want to help dad build a fort or the little boys who want to learn to cook? What happens to their self esteem when told it’s not normal to want to do these things? In order to spark a true sense of self they need to know that it’s okay to be themselves. How do they learn this? Unconditional acceptance from us, as well as an “outside the box” way of raising them.

I consider myself an independent, strong-minded woman who can’t pass up a shoe sale and a regular Mani Pedi. But, I’ve also been known to throw back a couple beers after a long day of riding four-wheelers without feeling the need to make excuses for hardened dots of mud on my face. You see, most of us have an idea of what is accepted when we grow up. Caring, well-meaning parents project their view of normal, on us, at a very early age as was done by their own well-meaning parents. Whether it’s a top student, princess, athlete or rule-breaker we begin to see our roles through their eyes. I never experienced this. After my mother’s death when I was very young and a father that ran from any responsibility, I was given a rare gift of no expectations. I was not expected to excel or fail or be anything, and realistically no one would have noticed if I had. I became self-sufficient and a survivor out of necessity, but was also given the chance to look at a world without walls. I learned to love cooking by borrowing library cookbooks at eight-years-old and taught myself car maintenance and routine repairs at 16 having never been told that only boys can become mechanics.

I had no normal.

My pinks and blues have always bled together in a beautiful, mix of purple.

My sons have become wonderful men. They aren’t perfect by ‘normal’ standards but their lives are coming together exactly as they imagined. Did I have high hopes of them being doctors or lawyers as most mothers will tell you? Honestly, no. I only wanted them to be happy and find their own joy, which they are figuring out as I write. I can’t take any credit. All I did was stand back and let them explore their world while keeping one eye on them at all times. Igor is gone now but I know he’d be so proud.

So, this holiday season when you begin making choices on gifts for the boys and girls in your life, stop and think. What can I teach these children about themselves? Go ahead and buy little Brandon a cabbage patch doll and Abigail a building workshop. That almost-real set of pots and pans may be just one of the many gifts little Joey receives this year, but what if it sparks a fire in him that may never have been lit? He may go on to become a great chef, giving thanks to his Aunt Ida for opening his eyes to the culinary world. Making it a purple holiday will let them know that they are accepted and that there is no limit to their dreams. Can you think of a better present than that?

*Queens have their own castle. In order to be a princess you need A. a powerful father, ex. King Daddio who takes care of your every need or B. a Prince whom you must marry to get the title.

Carol DiPirro is a native New Yorker living upstate in a 150-year-old haunted house with a big white dog and a guy named Carl. She loves peanut butter, doesn’t eat animals and still wishes on falling stars. After years of searching for the meaning of life, she found a book on Buddhism and decided it was close enough. You can email her caroldipirro AT yahoo DOT com or follow her on twitter.