"Do we honestly believe that a teenage boy is going to lose the ability to tell an acute angle from a right angle because Ella T. is wearing shorts? Don’t be obtuse." Spewed my coffee all over my nice clean shirt. I love that kind of laugh!
When I was younger, I worked as a nanny and an au pair. The little boys? Delightful. Affectionate. Gentle. Sweet. Cuddly. Until they started school. Then, they changed. I saw it in real time.
The little girls I cared for were tougher. More demanding. Stronger-willed.
It was really fascinating. When they went to school, that spirit started getting squashed. They changed. I saw that in real time, too.
The tube top thing. Why don't boys wear them? Or skirts, or dresses? The tube top. I hated tube tops. One good tug to nakedness. They were invitations for bad behavior. The male/female division. Boy clothes. Girl clothes. Hate it. When I was a kid, I wanted to wear boy clothes all the time. Girl clothes were too vulnerable. Boy clothes felt safer. I didn't want to be a boy. I wanted the rights and privileges that should be everyone's.
The idea of colors for gender is so bizarre to me. Most of it now is just advertising, but at one point, I remembering reading, blue was considered more feminine (in line with the madonna) and red/pink was more masculine because it was the color of many military uniforms. It's all so silly and unnecessary.
Why, Dina? I prefer cooler colors, like deep maroon, blue, black and purple, and I didn't like pink because I saw it as the stereotyped little girl's color. I don't mean to make people sad. I started out being a rather contrary and nonconformist little thing. At 72 I'm afraid one could say that it is part of my personality and unlikely to change.
Oh. Yeah. My mom came from a large (12 kids) Catholic family. Her dad was a first-generation immigrant from Austria (pre-WWI) and her mom was a second-generation French Catholic woman. I am told my Austrian grandfather was loving, but strict; he died before I was born, and I have no idea what his religion was, but suspect Protestant. My French-descended nana must always have been pregnant; I didn’t know her well, as she died when I was very young. My father’s dad was a twinkly-eyed, puckish second-generation Irish immigrant (Catholic, but non-denominational). His mom was Mayflower-descended Protestant British. My dad converted to Roman Catholicism to marry my mom (nice, but futile gesture), and she made an attempt to raise us as Catholics. Since I was the only girl, I got the “you get more flies with honey,” “a whistling girl and a crowing hen will come to no good end,” and “some day you will be married and this is preparation” stuff. It drove me up the wall, Dina. I am serious when I say that I believe I was at least a mild disappointment to my dear mother up until the day she passed away.
She loved me, but every sentiment she expressed was something of a rebuke for wanting to try something that little girls were not supposed to do. And boy, did I hear “boys will be boys.” My brothers managed to outgrow that to an extent, but they probably would have been happier had they been forced to participate in stuff like working around the house and not permitted to wheel around like entitled little boundary pushers. They were essentially forced to grow up once they left home and were married.
I adore HOT PINK...and will never stop...It's my brand accent color for all my different businesses. But I rarely wear it. It has to be just the right pink. And I love pale pink Oxford button-downs (when men wear them). I've done as much as I can to go beyond boundaries, but I want boys and men to do that too! xo
Not much in the way of clothes for me…I did have a couple pair of hot pink Hokas. And the famous hot pink 80s linen jacket I’ve written about a few times in essays. I have a couple of things, but it’s hardly a habit. I do love it for design work, though. And never Barbie pink…xo
Chacune à son propre. I love a beautiful soft blush--on a rose or in an evening sky. I simply don't find the color flattering to my skin tone, and I just prefer cooler colors. I talked my parents into wallpaper with a light lilac background with tiny blue violets when it was time to repaper my pink room. It's funny, but when I ran out of electives for my medieval history degree in college I had to resort to taking a couple of Roman History classes; I learned that the Legions adopted pink for the plaster that was used to dress the interior walls of their buildings. It was their belief that it was a manly, martial color. It wasn't until a 1918 trade publication called Earnshaw’s Infants’ Department recommended [pink for boys and blue for girls] that color-gender associations became fixed in the United States.
Correction: I earlier stated the reverse; it was just that encoded in my brain that pink is for girls. Thank you for checking me, Nan Tepper!
I just found this...it states the opposite but credits Earnsshaw's for recommending blue for girls and pink for boys. And with AI nonsense on the rise, it's getting harder to discern truth/facts anymore.
Sure. Anytime. I love learning new things. And am grateful that you offered your info. It's fascinating how things get changed, and how often it has to do with selling things! xo
Your comment immediately brought to mind Dar Williams’ song “When I Was a Boy.”
I haven’t heard or played that song in years, and I just played it — and balled my eyes out. If you haven’t heard it, I strongly recommend checking it out.
I love you, forever for that. I just listened to it. I didn't know it. Dar Williams just sang my life and I cried all the way through. Thank you. The only title I was familiar with was the album called When I Was a Boy by Jane Siberry (a favorite).
I have some stories I've written that speak to this on my stack, The Next Write Thing. The first one is called "I Was a Baby Feminist" and the other one is called "I Never Told Anyone, But..." They're searchable. I don't want to put a link here. But Dina won't mind me telling you where you can find them if you want to check them out.
I also produce a story slam here, called Wham! Bam! Thank You! Slam! You may want to check that out, too.
I'm thrilled to know this song. a million thanks! xo
Ugh in a lot of cases with men, I don't think their self-image evolves past 18 years old.
They want nurturing and hand holding and coddling. They want enthusiastic participation in their interests, lifestyle, etc. They have been raised in environments where said environments bended TO THEM and not the other way around. So they go after 20 year olds, or find women who can't stand up for themselves, or why not both.
Then, of course, because they are an Adult Man, they can turn on a dime and use their power when they aren’t getting their way. Because they get all the privileges of patriarchy and age, and can cash that chip in at will.
I don’t even think this is necessarily conscious. It’s structural.
That starts at home. That starts with how they are socialized and raised. And look at the people in charge. All baby men who were coddled, or abused, or both. And girls and women pay the price, and then they have children, and if they don’t understand this structure when raising their own kids, the cycle continues.
Oh, Dina, I love it when you write about your sons. This one was so great. I almost melted the day you wrote that your 18-year-old looked into a German TV camera and said, "Women's rights are human rights."
It keeps us all honest. It's always about the system. The culture. The Rules. When I looked at my boy, I thought: Little boys are made of love, though I have to say he was never attracted to stick banging or war games, which made that easier. Nope. That boy was a storyteller from his first word. "Poor Dear," I thought as a struggling storyteller. I had to let him fail, too, sometimes in horrifying ways. That's another part of not-coddling. When he was soooo sure he was right, I let him find out. I loved him so hard, I was honest with him. And he's a beautiful man, emotionally available and committed to his partner, supporting her through law school.
When I was a high school teacher, I used to ask in the pre-first-day-of-school staff meetings where you go over The Rules... "Why are there ten dress code rules for the girls and only one for the boys, which actually applies to both genders?" Theirs was the one about clothing depicting graphic representations of drugs or alcohol... "Why are we policing girls' bodies?" By the time I left, we weren't really enforcing a dress code, and bare midriffs were all the rage in fashion. Not one boy died, or even got in trouble because of a belly button.
You should know that an earlier draft mentioned your comment about assigning books written by women and how it was “just homework “. I couldn’t make it work here, but it will live rent free in my head.
He is. I have so much respect for him, and his beloved.
Also, that bit about assigning work by women authors could be waiting for the right moment. Or maybe it’s mine, in a post called: Asking Boys to Read Judy Brady’s I Want a Wife.
Great work, Dina! I believe a change can and will come.We are all, unfortunately, subject to our hormones and it can be delightful or devastating. You have made the right point- testosterone has its real effects and because of that, boys have to be taught how to live in a body that feels urges and learn how to control those urges. It needs to be on them, not the girls to constantly manage both themselves and the boys in their lives. Our society is obsessed with testosterone (just ask Hegseth) but it is a powerful, intoxicating “drug” that needs to be used responsibly. By the way, I feel much more “myself” without being flooded with estrogen. More clarity, less tolerance for bullshit. These chemicals that put us in “mating” mode are quite intense. I’m being a bit tongue in cheek in this comment… but only a little bit.
An excellent starting point for consideration. Imagine a man not believing that a woman is worthy of the same rights thinking women will find him attractive as a partner!
Raising our sons to be feminists is the greatest gift we can give the world - and them! My two are 21 and 17 now and still resist the f word but they are learning and questioning and realising they must be on the right side of history and deciding for themselves. Almost pumped my own fist in the air re your last paragraph! Wonderful, inspiring essay, thank you!
I’ve got four brothers and I don’t think any of them are misogynistic. I didn’t really think about stuff like that before now, probably because it didn’t seem to happen. My Dad would do dishes and other housework, we all had to. There were 9 people in the house. We noticed sexism outside (certain subjects at school, certain playground areas gender separated) and disliked the unfairness, but I guess I’m lucky that we were equal at home. One of my brothers is still a little shocked when I fart, but he’s getting over it.
I think home is the foundation and that yours was a solid one to build on. A gift. My father also liked to cook, but he was outnumbered as the only male. Now my Siri’s the opposite, I’m the lone female. Maybe that’s why it felt extra important to teach those life lessons.
As the daughter of a man who proudly claimed himself to be a card-carrying feminist (and passed that attic along to my brother), and as the grandmother of twin teenage boys, I salute you!!🫡
I have so many thoughts about this. The most pressing: I love that you are both holding boys accountable AND have confidence in their ability to do better. We can hope and expect that all genders can be compassionate, kind, strong, independent, and respectful of others--including their safety--AND responsible for their own behavior and choices.
That’s the crux of it. The system harms girls and it sells boys short. My sons are more than capable of regulating their emotions. My husband is more than capable of self-care. When we presume those things fall outside the realm of masculinity, it doesn’t do anyone any good.
It’s a huge thing to raise boys who become men who are sand in the wheels of this machine. I managed, too, and I am so proud of my son, but I wish I’d known you when my kids were little. I would have loved to have someone to talk to about it.
I used to feel isolated sometimes, because even though all of my close girlfriends would identify as feminists and liberals, there were many moments I was appalled and confused by the way they were letting their sons talk to them and treat them. I think misogyny runs so deep, there are women perpetuating it without realizing. I watched it happen in real time, but it’s not an easy thing to bring up. With one exception, I never found a way, and that person is like a sister to me.
I was always pretty permissive about most things, we had a lot of fun in our house, but there wasn’t any slack when it came to how we treated each other, how we spoke to one another, etc. I never tolerated back-talk or disrespect. I dunno. Maybe growing up with a single mom and a little sister isn’t always the worst thing for a boy, unless the father in the house is going to be like your husband, or many of the dads in the comments — card-carrying feminists.
I have a running joke (that is only kind of a joke) that I used to randomly shout out "Who was Sybil Ludington?' to my kids, but that was when they were a little bit older. Being surrounded by (smug, but mostly well-meaning) Brooklyn mothers who were determined to raise gender neutral kids helped when they were young helped. And of course, having a partner who modeled the behavior we were trying to teach. I often wonder if it's easier for parents to raise kids of the opposite sex to them because we're kind of going in blind with no expectation. Which makes think that had I had girls, it would have been a totally different kettle of fucked up fish, you know?
"Do we honestly believe that a teenage boy is going to lose the ability to tell an acute angle from a right angle because Ella T. is wearing shorts? Don’t be obtuse." Spewed my coffee all over my nice clean shirt. I love that kind of laugh!
When I was younger, I worked as a nanny and an au pair. The little boys? Delightful. Affectionate. Gentle. Sweet. Cuddly. Until they started school. Then, they changed. I saw it in real time.
The little girls I cared for were tougher. More demanding. Stronger-willed.
It was really fascinating. When they went to school, that spirit started getting squashed. They changed. I saw that in real time, too.
The tube top thing. Why don't boys wear them? Or skirts, or dresses? The tube top. I hated tube tops. One good tug to nakedness. They were invitations for bad behavior. The male/female division. Boy clothes. Girl clothes. Hate it. When I was a kid, I wanted to wear boy clothes all the time. Girl clothes were too vulnerable. Boy clothes felt safer. I didn't want to be a boy. I wanted the rights and privileges that should be everyone's.
Loved this, as always. xon
Boy clothes weren’t constricting. You could climb trees and run without a care. You knew that, even as a kid.
I used to buy boys clothes for my daughter when she was little. Less fussy and slightly bigger, so she could wear them longer.
I love burgundy and was stunned when I found a cardi and a jacket in burgundy being labelled as for boys. I'd never understand it
The idea of colors for gender is so bizarre to me. Most of it now is just advertising, but at one point, I remembering reading, blue was considered more feminine (in line with the madonna) and red/pink was more masculine because it was the color of many military uniforms. It's all so silly and unnecessary.
Yup. Agreed! But I did enjoy the flip...learning that it was the opposite at one point did prove how ridiculous it all is. xo
That, for sure. But I was more driven by wanting choices, fairness, and equality.
I have always wanted the freedom to go beyond boundaries, as my brothers were promised, Nan. And I have always detested pink.
That made me sad :-(
Why, Dina? I prefer cooler colors, like deep maroon, blue, black and purple, and I didn't like pink because I saw it as the stereotyped little girl's color. I don't mean to make people sad. I started out being a rather contrary and nonconformist little thing. At 72 I'm afraid one could say that it is part of my personality and unlikely to change.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.
Not the pink! The freedom to go beyond the boundaries .
Oh. Yeah. My mom came from a large (12 kids) Catholic family. Her dad was a first-generation immigrant from Austria (pre-WWI) and her mom was a second-generation French Catholic woman. I am told my Austrian grandfather was loving, but strict; he died before I was born, and I have no idea what his religion was, but suspect Protestant. My French-descended nana must always have been pregnant; I didn’t know her well, as she died when I was very young. My father’s dad was a twinkly-eyed, puckish second-generation Irish immigrant (Catholic, but non-denominational). His mom was Mayflower-descended Protestant British. My dad converted to Roman Catholicism to marry my mom (nice, but futile gesture), and she made an attempt to raise us as Catholics. Since I was the only girl, I got the “you get more flies with honey,” “a whistling girl and a crowing hen will come to no good end,” and “some day you will be married and this is preparation” stuff. It drove me up the wall, Dina. I am serious when I say that I believe I was at least a mild disappointment to my dear mother up until the day she passed away.
She loved me, but every sentiment she expressed was something of a rebuke for wanting to try something that little girls were not supposed to do. And boy, did I hear “boys will be boys.” My brothers managed to outgrow that to an extent, but they probably would have been happier had they been forced to participate in stuff like working around the house and not permitted to wheel around like entitled little boundary pushers. They were essentially forced to grow up once they left home and were married.
Sigh.
Exactly! xo
I adore HOT PINK...and will never stop...It's my brand accent color for all my different businesses. But I rarely wear it. It has to be just the right pink. And I love pale pink Oxford button-downs (when men wear them). I've done as much as I can to go beyond boundaries, but I want boys and men to do that too! xo
I have a hot pink thread that runs throughout my life, including some clothes, but not too many ;-).
Not much in the way of clothes for me…I did have a couple pair of hot pink Hokas. And the famous hot pink 80s linen jacket I’ve written about a few times in essays. I have a couple of things, but it’s hardly a habit. I do love it for design work, though. And never Barbie pink…xo
Chacune à son propre. I love a beautiful soft blush--on a rose or in an evening sky. I simply don't find the color flattering to my skin tone, and I just prefer cooler colors. I talked my parents into wallpaper with a light lilac background with tiny blue violets when it was time to repaper my pink room. It's funny, but when I ran out of electives for my medieval history degree in college I had to resort to taking a couple of Roman History classes; I learned that the Legions adopted pink for the plaster that was used to dress the interior walls of their buildings. It was their belief that it was a manly, martial color. It wasn't until a 1918 trade publication called Earnshaw’s Infants’ Department recommended [pink for boys and blue for girls] that color-gender associations became fixed in the United States.
Correction: I earlier stated the reverse; it was just that encoded in my brain that pink is for girls. Thank you for checking me, Nan Tepper!
I just found this...it states the opposite but credits Earnsshaw's for recommending blue for girls and pink for boys. And with AI nonsense on the rise, it's getting harder to discern truth/facts anymore.
https://www.britannica.com/story/has-pink-always-been-a-girly-color
Oops! I don't want bogus info, so will correct. Thank you, Nan!
Sure. Anytime. I love learning new things. And am grateful that you offered your info. It's fascinating how things get changed, and how often it has to do with selling things! xo
Love learning that! And always, to each their own. Thanks for that tidbit...maybe Dina will write something about that. ICK. xo
Come to my story slam next Saturday if you can. If you'd like a comp ticket, send me a DM. xo
Your comment immediately brought to mind Dar Williams’ song “When I Was a Boy.”
I haven’t heard or played that song in years, and I just played it — and balled my eyes out. If you haven’t heard it, I strongly recommend checking it out.
Thank you.
Thank you, I will make sure to listen.
I love you, forever for that. I just listened to it. I didn't know it. Dar Williams just sang my life and I cried all the way through. Thank you. The only title I was familiar with was the album called When I Was a Boy by Jane Siberry (a favorite).
I have some stories I've written that speak to this on my stack, The Next Write Thing. The first one is called "I Was a Baby Feminist" and the other one is called "I Never Told Anyone, But..." They're searchable. I don't want to put a link here. But Dina won't mind me telling you where you can find them if you want to check them out.
I also produce a story slam here, called Wham! Bam! Thank You! Slam! You may want to check that out, too.
I'm thrilled to know this song. a million thanks! xo
Ugh in a lot of cases with men, I don't think their self-image evolves past 18 years old.
They want nurturing and hand holding and coddling. They want enthusiastic participation in their interests, lifestyle, etc. They have been raised in environments where said environments bended TO THEM and not the other way around. So they go after 20 year olds, or find women who can't stand up for themselves, or why not both.
Then, of course, because they are an Adult Man, they can turn on a dime and use their power when they aren’t getting their way. Because they get all the privileges of patriarchy and age, and can cash that chip in at will.
I don’t even think this is necessarily conscious. It’s structural.
That starts at home. That starts with how they are socialized and raised. And look at the people in charge. All baby men who were coddled, or abused, or both. And girls and women pay the price, and then they have children, and if they don’t understand this structure when raising their own kids, the cycle continues.
Oh, Dina, I love it when you write about your sons. This one was so great. I almost melted the day you wrote that your 18-year-old looked into a German TV camera and said, "Women's rights are human rights."
It keeps us all honest. It's always about the system. The culture. The Rules. When I looked at my boy, I thought: Little boys are made of love, though I have to say he was never attracted to stick banging or war games, which made that easier. Nope. That boy was a storyteller from his first word. "Poor Dear," I thought as a struggling storyteller. I had to let him fail, too, sometimes in horrifying ways. That's another part of not-coddling. When he was soooo sure he was right, I let him find out. I loved him so hard, I was honest with him. And he's a beautiful man, emotionally available and committed to his partner, supporting her through law school.
When I was a high school teacher, I used to ask in the pre-first-day-of-school staff meetings where you go over The Rules... "Why are there ten dress code rules for the girls and only one for the boys, which actually applies to both genders?" Theirs was the one about clothing depicting graphic representations of drugs or alcohol... "Why are we policing girls' bodies?" By the time I left, we weren't really enforcing a dress code, and bare midriffs were all the rage in fashion. Not one boy died, or even got in trouble because of a belly button.
You should know that an earlier draft mentioned your comment about assigning books written by women and how it was “just homework “. I couldn’t make it work here, but it will live rent free in my head.
Your son sound like an amazing human, Susan.
He is. I have so much respect for him, and his beloved.
Also, that bit about assigning work by women authors could be waiting for the right moment. Or maybe it’s mine, in a post called: Asking Boys to Read Judy Brady’s I Want a Wife.
Great work, Dina! I believe a change can and will come.We are all, unfortunately, subject to our hormones and it can be delightful or devastating. You have made the right point- testosterone has its real effects and because of that, boys have to be taught how to live in a body that feels urges and learn how to control those urges. It needs to be on them, not the girls to constantly manage both themselves and the boys in their lives. Our society is obsessed with testosterone (just ask Hegseth) but it is a powerful, intoxicating “drug” that needs to be used responsibly. By the way, I feel much more “myself” without being flooded with estrogen. More clarity, less tolerance for bullshit. These chemicals that put us in “mating” mode are quite intense. I’m being a bit tongue in cheek in this comment… but only a little bit.
“Learning to care for yourself and others is not a gendered activity.” I would like this message on a yard sign and bumper sticker.
Thank you for raising good, kind, autonomous humans. Now I need to go find out who Rosalind Franklin is so I can keep up.
Rosalind! The Patron Saint of Shafted Women Scientists.
A man must be a feminist, for me to even be interested in them.
An excellent starting point for consideration. Imagine a man not believing that a woman is worthy of the same rights thinking women will find him attractive as a partner!
Watch what they do, not just what they say.
Raising our sons to be feminists is the greatest gift we can give the world - and them! My two are 21 and 17 now and still resist the f word but they are learning and questioning and realising they must be on the right side of history and deciding for themselves. Almost pumped my own fist in the air re your last paragraph! Wonderful, inspiring essay, thank you!
Maybe we don’t fist pump enough/-fist pumps for all!
I’ve got four brothers and I don’t think any of them are misogynistic. I didn’t really think about stuff like that before now, probably because it didn’t seem to happen. My Dad would do dishes and other housework, we all had to. There were 9 people in the house. We noticed sexism outside (certain subjects at school, certain playground areas gender separated) and disliked the unfairness, but I guess I’m lucky that we were equal at home. One of my brothers is still a little shocked when I fart, but he’s getting over it.
I think home is the foundation and that yours was a solid one to build on. A gift. My father also liked to cook, but he was outnumbered as the only male. Now my Siri’s the opposite, I’m the lone female. Maybe that’s why it felt extra important to teach those life lessons.
As the daughter of a man who proudly claimed himself to be a card-carrying feminist (and passed that attic along to my brother), and as the grandmother of twin teenage boys, I salute you!!🫡
That should say, “attitude”! 🤪
I love this comment!
When my second child was AMAB, I was scared of what this society would teach them to be and do, in spite of anything I might do.
A quote from Marilyn French lived in my head: "Every rapist is some mother's son".
I consider myself very fortunate that that child turned out to be a trans girl (now woman).
The quote is horrifically accurate .
Good for you, Dina! I have a pair myself. And I love them madly.
Amen. 🙏
Good job, Mom. 👏
I have so many thoughts about this. The most pressing: I love that you are both holding boys accountable AND have confidence in their ability to do better. We can hope and expect that all genders can be compassionate, kind, strong, independent, and respectful of others--including their safety--AND responsible for their own behavior and choices.
That’s the crux of it. The system harms girls and it sells boys short. My sons are more than capable of regulating their emotions. My husband is more than capable of self-care. When we presume those things fall outside the realm of masculinity, it doesn’t do anyone any good.
Great Job, Mom!!
It’s a huge thing to raise boys who become men who are sand in the wheels of this machine. I managed, too, and I am so proud of my son, but I wish I’d known you when my kids were little. I would have loved to have someone to talk to about it.
I used to feel isolated sometimes, because even though all of my close girlfriends would identify as feminists and liberals, there were many moments I was appalled and confused by the way they were letting their sons talk to them and treat them. I think misogyny runs so deep, there are women perpetuating it without realizing. I watched it happen in real time, but it’s not an easy thing to bring up. With one exception, I never found a way, and that person is like a sister to me.
I was always pretty permissive about most things, we had a lot of fun in our house, but there wasn’t any slack when it came to how we treated each other, how we spoke to one another, etc. I never tolerated back-talk or disrespect. I dunno. Maybe growing up with a single mom and a little sister isn’t always the worst thing for a boy, unless the father in the house is going to be like your husband, or many of the dads in the comments — card-carrying feminists.
Loved this ✊🏼
I have a running joke (that is only kind of a joke) that I used to randomly shout out "Who was Sybil Ludington?' to my kids, but that was when they were a little bit older. Being surrounded by (smug, but mostly well-meaning) Brooklyn mothers who were determined to raise gender neutral kids helped when they were young helped. And of course, having a partner who modeled the behavior we were trying to teach. I often wonder if it's easier for parents to raise kids of the opposite sex to them because we're kind of going in blind with no expectation. Which makes think that had I had girls, it would have been a totally different kettle of fucked up fish, you know?
Yes! With a raised fist ✊
A not so tiny Angela Davis salute :-)