Wednesday, October 24, 2007

boy in pink pants

Today I went to get coffee with booga bear in tow, and we sat outside near the street. He was very satisfied pointing out all the cars and trucks that went by and stared at a backhoe on board a truck for the whole duration of the traffic light it was waiting at. I wondered if I'd be able to do this with a girl his age. Instead of running off, he just sat and babbled about things with wheels.

Last week at the park, there was a boy of 8 or so wearing girls' pants. They were hot pink, with a little star or floral pattern, made of fitted cotton with tapered ankles. It bothered me. My eyes couldn't help but keep wandering back to this little boy, who was running around attacking slides with another boy. Possibly something happened to his pants, and it was either girls' pants or no pants. But I think the more likely scenario was that his parents didn't care what color his pants were - the group of adults he was with seemed a rather free-wheeling crowd.

I tried telling myself it was just a piece of fabric. But, it's really not. Dresses are just fabric, but try telling that to a man - see if it will convince him to put one on. Dresses aren't just fabric, they are a representation of femininity. Just like hot pink stretch pants. I guess what was really bothering me was that putting girls' pants on a boy is like telling him masculinity doesn't matter. But of course it does.

It seems so ridiculous when people talk about gender as a mere social construction. I think this was a hit idea in the 70's, but now people are leaning back towards the biological construction idea because it's been made pretty clear that the 'social constructionists' were mostly wrong. Lately, my husband has been going around singing the words to Limp Bizkit's song, 'Break Stuff': "I pack a chainsaw...I'll skin your ass raw...And if my day keeps going this way, I just might... break your *** face tonight! Give me something to break! Give me something to break!

Women don't write stuff like this! At least the majority don't. I didn't really understand the distinction between male and female until I got married. It's like living with another species entirely, and this isn't just because my husband is odd or something, it's because his brain is wired differently. In fact, everything is different! So world, do me a favor: don't try to tell me there are no differences between the sexes by dressing your sons in girl clothes, okay?

1 comment:

Fr. J. said...

Amen, jogger mom, amen.