Posts tagged children
Downing Street goes family (time) friendly
7I was delighted to learn today that British Prime Minister David Cameron and his deputy, Nick Clegg, have taken to organising some Cabinet meetings around their children’s bedtimes and have expressed their desire to make this a regular occurrence so that they can remain involved with their family lives. Despite what I may think of their partnership and other policies, Cameron and Clegg seem to have taken a firm stance on the importance of spending time together as a family and a work-life balance by not just talking the talk but walking the walk, or at least trying to. And I admire that, even though I think Cameron’s definition of what a family is is entirely too narrow.
But of course, it wasn’t long before the criticisms of Cameron and Clegg’s new ‘flexitime’ practices started coming: ‘What the hell are they THINKING?! Shouldn’t their wives or nannies be doing that? These are important men with important, full-time jobs and a country to run! They need to sort out the economy, not doing little Johnny’s nappies and night-time sing-songs! Working parents all over Britain hardly get to see their children because of the demands their job(s) places on them; why should these rich boffins get to swan off home and rearrange meetings around their little dears?’
That was the sum of the content and comments on this Daily Mail article [I read them so you don't have to; believe me, it's a hot shower needed afterwards].
So, to sum up: Men should stick to the important stuff like running the country and making decisions about all of our lives and The Wives should shoulder the entire burden of childcare/rearing and household management (in addition to their own piddling ‘careers’ if they have one) because what you produce and how much you earn are more important than family and any man who doesn’t realise that is a threat to his own financial security and that of the World Order of Dudeliness And Other Masculine Pursuits.
No wonder we have such a long way to go in allowing women more options and flexibility in their professional lives and men more options and flexibility in their personal lives. Until we can break down these kinds of stereotypes, we’re just running in circles.
The hypocrite in the room: Views on female sexuality
22I wrote last month about the uproar caused by Primark’s padded bras for little girls and why I think the outrage was misplaced. I said:
Why would we expect a little girl, who so desperately wants to emulate the older girls and women around her (including the ones she sees on billboards, TV and music videos), to understand that aspiring to have the body and looks that she knows will be expected of her when she’s older is somehow wrong or shameful as a child? What is it about female beauty standards that we are so horrified when children copy them? Is it because we fear they will ‘grow up too soon’, or because we know that those beauty standards are harmful by nature, no matter one’s age?
and
The sexualisation of children is a problem, yes. But the chicken that laid this rancid egg is not paedophilia or evil retailers bent on making children grow up before their time — it’s the continuing sexualisation of women and the perpetuation of gender stereotypes. Without either of those, padded bras for little girls wouldn’t have even entered a retail executive’s head. At the way our culture stands, can you really blame Primark for simply maintaining the status quo?
And now we learn there is yet another zOmG The Children!! outrage, but this time it’s about some eight and nine-year-old girls performing a routine at an urban dance competition to Beyonce’s ‘Single Ladies’, complete with ‘sexy’ dance moves and skimpy, sparkly outfits. The video went viral a few days ago and has been circulating all over the United States of Paranoia America and beyond.* This is, of course, causing the world’s morality neurons to implode.
High priestess of judgmental parenting, Jessica Gottlieb, wrote about it here and let’s just say she did not approve. This is the same woman who thinks we should accept that breastfeeding and bringing children out in public are going to be frowned upon by a large segment of society and we should just learn to accept that and adjust our lives accordingly. So while I really don’t care what Ms. Gottlieb herself has to say about this particular controversy, the fact that so many people have jumped on the Oh My God What Little Sluts bandwagon has disturbed me. In fact, one dad wrote a blog post about it entitled Stop Slutting Up Our Girls [hey, did you know that 'slut' was now a verb as well --neat, eh?!], in which he notes:
I have a daughter. I see the way she is marketed to. I’ve taken her shopping and seen the outfits that hang on display. Most of it is fine, but so much of it is far from that. Sure, sex sells, but do we need to be selling it to girls so young that they haven’t even developed yet? There is no reason for that.
He also wrote
Parents, you are the last line of defense here. The old saying that sex sells is a fact and we all know it. That is never going to change, but does sex have to sell in your house? No, it doesn’t. This is a problem that parents are allowing to happen. Complain all you want about what is happening in our world, but the more active you are as a parent and not allow things like this to happen the better we all will be.
First, let’s get something out of the way. Whether you think ‘suggestive’ dancing and ‘sexy’ outfits are appropriate for children or not, the fact is that these things are both culturally-approved expressions of female sexuality (or sad demonstrations of deep-rooted patriarchal norms that centre the male gaze above true female sexual desires, depending on your view). Putting the onus on parents (i.e. mothers) to police their daughters’ actions, behaviours and dress to ensure they receive just enough social conditioning to be a ‘good’ and ‘normal’ female (pretty, thin, nice, deferential, morally upright, sexy but not too sexy, smart but not too smart) but being super careful to not let them cross the line into ‘bad’ or ‘abnormal’ female behaviours (not adhering to beauty and body standards, being a ‘bitch’, expressing sexuality in a way that could be construed as ‘slutty’, ’easy’ or, horror of horrors, queer, challenging authority, prioritising education or career over marriage and motherhood) is deeply problematic, not least because it is largely an exercise carried out on our daughters, not our sons, and the blame for a girl not ‘turning out well’ is often assigned to the mother, who is presumed to have undertaken the majority of childrearing. How often do we see or read about a child doing something ‘bad’ and someone’s immediate response is, “Where is that child’s mother?”
Of course, when it comes to policing female sexuality, fathers are, for once, actively encouraged to participate in parenting by being the monitor of skirt length, cleavage depth and worthiness of any male suitors that come a’knocking. A perceived breach of this fatherly ‘guarding’ of his daughter’s sexuality puts a man well within his rights to threaten said suitors with physical violence or intimidation, and his daughter under lock and key until she proves she can keep her legs shut. The idea that a girl or woman’s sexuality is ‘owned’ by her father until she ‘gives’ it to her chosen partner (who will then ‘take’ her virginity) reinforces the notion of Women As Property and their bodies the currency of power between men.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: We will never be rid of the sexualisation of girls until we are rid of the sexualisation of women. The problem is that we have become so immune to the harm that objectification has on women (who all start out as little girls) that we are blind to its roots. Notice how the dad from the ‘Slutting it Up’ article blithely notes (twice) that “sex sells,” indicating that this is an inevitable and acceptable argument for marketing women’s sexuality once they are deemed adult enough. Being okay with women’s bodies being used to please others and sell products but being abhorred by the same treatment of girls is not only ignorant but hypocritical. The argument that children are innocent and therefore need protecting from these kinds of messages and influence is completely sidelining the fact that children, regardless of how much we ‘protect’ them, are growing up seeing women’s bodies and beauty being admired above all else. They see their fathers and other men they respect buying the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue or ogling topless Page 3 girls. They see how much praise and acclaim women’s looks get them. They see half-naked women with makeup-caked, come-hither eyes on every billboard and on the front of every magazine cover they pass. They see videos like the one for Beyonce’s ‘Single Ladies’, one that won many awards and was highly praised by adults for being ‘sexy’ and ‘innovative’ and they know that when their time comes, they too will be rewarded and praised if they can look and move like the dancers on the screen. So when we get upset at the sexualisation of girls but embrace it wholeheartedly once those girls become women, is it any wonder that cultural influence wins out over individual parents’ attempts to discourage and minimise it?
If you’re not comfortable with seeing girl children copy these grown-up behaviours, don’t be so complicit in accepting the behaviours they were copying in the first place. If you’re a father and the thought of your little girl gyrating on a pole is too much to bear, don’t visit strip clubs when you’re out with the guys. If you’re a mother who invests heavily in adhering to beauty standards, don’t be surprised when your daughter won’t leave the house without eyeliner and lipstick and gets a boob job to ‘feel good about herself.’ If you’re disgusted by the thought of a 7-year-old wanting a padded bra, be disgusted at all the ads featuring women’s breasts.
Until we start respecting women, little girls will never respect themselves enough to make truly independent, autonomous choices that reflect their own dreams, desires and talents. Instead, they will move through life knowing the world is a voyeur and they must perform; that their sexuality is a product that must be consumed and devoured, until their beauty fades and their bellies sag, when the world will be finished with them. And when they become mothers themselves, they will start the cycle all over again, training their own daughters to run on the same hamster wheel that enslaves us all.
If you want to get off the wheel, stop complaining while you run to keep up. Instead, grab a hammer and help smash the damn thing apart.
*The video has been taken down now but clips of it can be viewed by clicking through here
Hat-tip to Kelly for suggesting I write about this
Emulating oppression
9The media, most parents and just about everyone, really, have been in a tizz about the latest Child Sexualisation Horror, a padded bikini top for 7-year-olds being sold in Primark. Parents’ and children’s groups called for the bikinis to be removed, saying it sexualised young girls and made them targets for paedophilia.
While I don’t deny the former, I completely disagree with the latter assumption, that sexualisation leads to paedophilia. Linking the way a female (be it a young girl or adult woman) dresses with her susceptibility to sexual assault and violence is at best misguided and at worst incredibly harmful. Let’s get this straight once and for all: the clothes we wear do not make us into victims; only those who would abuse and assault us do that.
While it may be comforting to think that if we only dress and act in the ‘right’ way that we won’t become victims of abuse, it’s simply not true. The continued acceptance of this myth is not only incredibly harmful to women and girls but allows their assailants to justify, excuse and continue their crimes. While everyone is tutting at the girl in the short skirt or padded bra, a predator snatches his ‘modestly-dressed’ prey.
And as for whether Primark was wrong to sell the item in question, I’m not so sure that the answer is as simple as the resounding ‘Hell yes!’ coming from all quarters. Again, it seems nice and easy to blame the retailer for making these ‘offensive’ items but let’s dig a little deeper. Why would we expect a little girl, who so desperately wants to emulate the older girls and women around her (including the ones she sees on billboards, TV and music videos), to understand that aspiring to have the body and looks that she knows will be expected of her when she’s older is somehow wrong or shameful as a child? What is it about female beauty standards that we are so horrified when children copy them? Is it because we fear they will ‘grow up too soon’, or because we know that those beauty standards are harmful by nature, no matter one’s age?
While it is of course disturbing to think of girls as young as seven wanting to have large breasts or wear lots of make-up, is it really so different from the ways in which young boys emulate the stereotypically masculine behaviour around them? Just because the emphasis is less on their bodies and more on their behaviour doesn’t mean that this modelling is any less harmful. Boys of seven who want to copy those fathers who subscribe to macho standards will know that they are expected to like and play at rough or violent endeavours like war and sports, suppress their emotions, be physically strong and imposing and distance themselves from anything that could be construed as ‘girly’ or ‘gay’. Yet, we don’t seem to get too worked up when they are indoctrinated with these messages, many of which are harmful to their self-esteem and emotional growth, because we’ve deemed those sorts of behaviours as normal and inevitable. Teaching our boys to be emotionally distant and aggressive seems to be acceptable in our society but woe betide the little girl who wants to copy her mother or the ladies on TV. Talk about conflicting messages!
The sexualisation of children is a problem, yes. But the chicken that laid this rancid egg is not paedophilia or evil retailers bent on making children grow up before their time — it’s the continuing sexualisation of women and the perpetuation of gender stereotypes. Without either of those, padded bras for little girls wouldn’t have even entered a retail executive’s head. At the way our culture stands, can you really blame Primark for simply maintaining the status quo?
Getting it
21When it comes to the ways in which parents and children are discriminated against and why those discriminations are inherently anti-woman, some people just don’t get it. Kate Harding, it seems, is one of those people.
She is one of the people to whom some feminist mothers may point when discussing the (sometimes pleasantly unnoticeable, sometimes seemingly insurmountable) divide between those who have had children and those who haven’t. She is someone who I personally agree with on many feminist issues but often, when it comes to a topic relating to parenting (usually concerning parenting in public), I find myself defensively reaching for that old cliché: “You couldn’t possibly understand, you don’t have children.” Whilst I dislike that line and think it is mainly unhelpful in a goal of creating positive discourse, there are times when its use is tempting when engaging with (or reading) someone who is just so not…getting it.
Just as I’m sure attempting to explain the realities of race or class inequities and pressures to someone who has not lived through them can feel quite frustrating and fruitless, so too can reading and responding to commentary that comes across as ignorant, insensitive and hypocritical from an otherwise smart, savvy and progressive woman.
Take, for example, Harding’s latest article on Salon’s Broadsheet, which was written in response to film director Kevin Smith being kicked off a Southwest Airlines flight because he was deemed too large for a single seat and hadn’t purchased two, in accordance with Southwest’s ‘person-of-size’ policy. As a fat-acceptance activist on another popular site, Harding took issue with this and linked the incident with the general air of hostility and hostility-disguised-as-concern aimed at fat people in public. Her impassioned, well-written piece shows how important this issue is to her, and many others.
But as I read her post, I couldn’t help but see extremely similar parallels between what she was railing against and what she herself had written just a few months ago in an article entitled ‘Screaming Toddlers on a Plane!’ In it, she discussed the removal of a two-year-old child and his mother from an airplane for the child’s ‘disruptive behaviour’ (which consisted of excitedly shouting “Go plane, go!” and “I want Daddy!”). While she expressed “sympathy” for parents flying with toddlers, she went on to admonish us to at least try to ‘control’ them. Because if she couldn’t see that we were ‘trying’ hard enough? She “reserve[s] the right to smugly judge [us], damnit.”
Essentially, she supports the idea that if a child cannot conform to social and behavioural norms and if its parents/carers do not actively take steps to ensure the comfort of others around them or at least apologise profusely for inconveniencing them (even if said ‘annoying’ behaviours are completely age-appropriate and nothing can really be ‘done’ about them, short of violence) she agrees that that child, and subsequently those with him/her, should be removed. At the very least, she reserves the right to express her disdain for what she perceives as the parents’ failings. Openly.
Yet, here she is in this instance, angry as all get-out that anyone would dare try to prioritize the comfort of other passengers over one person’s right to exist, or allow a long-held prejudice against a vulnerable group of people (who may or may not have any control over their ‘condition’) to be voiced. The collective disgust at the lack of ‘control’ a fat person or excitable child is seen to be exhibiting; the ways in which society seeks to punish those who encroach on our space or do not adhere to what is defined as normal or acceptable; the arrogance and privilege displayed by those who feel it is their right to criticise and complain when they are inconvenienced in any way by someone they don’t view as worthy of respect…can she, and others, really not see the ways in which fat-bashing (and other forms of intolerance) follows similar patterns to child/parent-bashing?
Now, Ruth at Look Left of the Pleiades has already drawn attention to the ways in which fat-acceptance is similar to child/parent-acceptance so I won’t repeat her many, many good points and analogies here, but I urge you to go read her post and then come back. Because I want to demonstrate why Harding’s perceptions of and attitudes towards children and parents in public are as harmful as the perceptions of and attitudes towards larger people that she so passionately disputes in her latest article and why this kind of disconnect contributes to the perpetuation of a ‘divide’ between feminist parents and childless feminists, as it does between those who are of ‘acceptable’ body size and those who aren’t.
Let’s start here, from the Kevin Smith article:
Perhaps they [those who complain about sitting next to large people] even had the special misfortune of sitting next to a rude fat person, the kind who doesn’t even seem contrite about infringing on someone else’s severely restricted personal space…There’s no shortage of rude people of all sizes, but it seems like everyone’s got a story about that whale who made a two-hour or three-hour or even five-hour flight pure hell for the adjacent paying customers.
Just like how everyone has a story of a screaming baby or toddler making their flight pure hell, huh? And, like, the freakin’ parents didn’t even APOLOGISE, can you believe it?!
From the ‘Toddler’ article:
I also believe, however, that unless he has special needs that make public screaming both more likely and far more difficult to end, a toddler hollering in a closed space for a prolonged period about something other than physical pain is very unlikely to evoke much sympathy. And the adult in charge has a responsibility to try to calm him and reinforce that this is inappropriate public behavior.
Reinforce that this is inappropriate public behaviour?! To a two-year-old who is stuck on a plane and is probably hungry, thirsty, scared, uncomfortable, bored or all of the above?! That is at least as laughable and useless to parents as “Just eat less and exercise more” probably is to severely overweight people. I’m also not keen on how Harding sets conditions on her sympathy: “If you do x and y, I’ll put up with you. But if I don’t think you ‘tried hard enough? I reserve my right to judge you and have you ejected.” Eerily similar to the conditions often placed upon sympathy for fat people: only if they are actively trying to minimise their mass and stay out of thin people’s way are they allowed any.
See, those of us who are and/or love people to whom airlines’ “person of size policies” apply don’t automatically envision the discomfort of getting stuck next to a fatty; we envision the physical and emotional pain of being the fatty crammed between two potentially hostile strangers, at the mercy of flight attendants who might decide we’re fine on one flight and a “safety risk” on the next.
I don’t automatically envision the discomfort of the people around me if my child cries on an airplane either, though I am all too well aware of the disapproval. My first duty is to my children and their well-being, not the flight enjoyment of those surrounding us. I do my best to minimise noise and disturbance but if, like what happened to me the last time I flew, my child is crying and howling because she was woken (in the middle of the night according to her body clock) by the flight attendant and made to sit back up and put on her seatbelt, I’m not going to care two jots if the people around me are put out. They might think I’m ‘doing nothing’ by simply sitting there with a hand on her shoulder, waiting for the upset to pass, but what they don’t know is that if I had kept shushing and fussing and cajoling, the wails would have undoubtedly gotten even louder. Funnily enough, some parents know their kids better than perfect strangers and what appears to be ‘ignoring’ to an outsider is actually preventing things from escalating further. The stares, the mutters, the annoyed glances, the outright commands to “shut that kid up”…these make for a pretty tense flying situation too. I would expect someone who has endured the same but for body size to be a bit more sympathetic to the enormous strain and embarrassment this causes the concerned party.
…the risk of smaller-scale humiliations — sitting next to someone who complains about their size; absorbing flight attendants’ naked disdain; overhearing someone say “I hope I don’t have to sit next to her”; being told, as Smith’s seatmate on his later flight was, that they should really purchase two seats in the future to avoid making other people uncomfortable; plus the aforementioned dirty looks and heavy sighs — is often enough to keep them at home.
Yep, know that feeling too. One man, on approaching his seat across the aisle from me and my six-month-old daughter, who was happily smiling and looking around, commented very loudly to his wife, “Oh great, we’re sitting next to a baby. See if we can change seats when the flight attendant comes by.” When they weren’t able to change seats, many heavy sighs and dirty looks ensued for the duration of the flight whenever my daughter made so much as a peep. I remember sitting there, tears silently coursing down my cheeks, as I held my finally-asleep baby — unable to move, go to the bathroom, eat, drink or read for fear of waking her and invoking the wrath of that horrid man. It made me forever fearful of the reactions of people around me and made me question whether I was the selfish one for wanting to go visit my family.
In the last paragraph of the Kevin Smith piece, Harding’s emotions come to the surface. Her rage at the lack of human decency and understanding becomes apparent and she says:
And I read comments from lots of people who are less openly hateful, but still think that fat people should buy two seats or lose weight or stay home — not that the airline has any responsibility to, say, ensure that adequate seating is available for everyone or treat people of all sizes like equal (not to mention individual) human beings — and you know what I think? Forgive me, but sometimes there’s no other way to say it: Fuck you. That’s what I think.
Sing it, sister! I agree with you 100%. I too wish that airplanes (and many other public spaces) were more accommodating of larger people, those with disabilities, families…the way most things are modelled on one body and type and under the assumption that one is travelling alone is very frustrating. I just wish you could apply those same strong feelings about accepting our bodies for what they are to accepting children and the nature of parenting for what they are. I wish you could be open-minded enough to know that even if you never experience parenting first-hand, it is something that you share a common bond with; that you (and all people) have a vested interest in making parents and children feel more welcome and included in our society, not ostracised. Those who were unaccepted for what they were as children can become the very people you struggle against now — the rigid, the selfish, the unkind. Setting out prescriptive behaviours and expectations for one group of people according to how their presence impacts others, not according to what is best or appropriate for them, is exactly what feminism (and fat-acceptance) strives to eradicate.
Just as you don’t want to be judged for your size, nor do we want to be judged for our reproductive and parenting choices, especially by those who haven’t walked a yard in our shoes, let alone a mile. In a homogenized world, I suppose everyone would be thin, every child would sit quietly and every parent would happily and healthily manage to work and bring up their children. But we don’t live in that world nor would any of us want to, I imagine.
As feminists, we celebrate diversity, challenge privilege and patriarchy and constantly question our own prejudices in order to grow and become better allies to those on the outside who need our help most. We mind our language, respect those with different needs, backgrounds and experiences from us and know when to say “I haven’t lived that. Tell me how I can stand with you and help you battle these injustices.”
In order to do that we need to become invested in fights that are not our ‘own,’ look for connections and similarities instead of divergences and dissimilarities. We need a feminism that ‘gets it’, or at least tries to. Not just about fat, not just about kids, but all of it. Because if we can’t support these basic tenets, and each other, what hope do we have of changing anything at all?
The name change game
22Everyone knows that you have to pick and choose your battles. Not every single fight can be fought by one person, at least not without compromising one’s mental health, and perhaps even physical health, with all that bashing of heads against brick walls and whatnot.
So it was that I found myself, while eight months pregnant with my first child, changing my surname to my husband’s; something I hadn’t done when we got married six years previously and that I hadn’t envisaged doing at all. The feminist voice inside me screamed but I shut her up by telling myself that it wasn’t that big a deal, really; that I was only changing it from one man’s name (my father’s) to another and that the tradition had roots too far entrenched in society for my stance to make much of a difference. But mostly, I was just tired. I was tired (already) of having this conversation with people:
“So, will Mr. D (my surname) be attending the next scan with you?”
“Yes but he’s not Mr. D, he’s Mr. R.”
“Oh, I see, I’m sorry. I thought you were married.”
“We are but I didn’t change my name.”
“Oh. Okay. So what surname will the baby have?”
“Um, his I guess.”
“Oh.”
It wasn’t that I thought he or she was being judgmental of the fact I hadn’t changed my name or that I was embarrassed to be mistaken for an unmarried mother, but something bothered me nonetheless.
I had endured a rather painful pregnancy, with SPD so bad that I had trouble sitting still for any period of time and could often be found on my hands and knees underneath my desk at work, rocking back and forth in agony trying not to cry. Spasms of pain leapt through my back and wrapped themselves around my vertebrae like the fingers of hot lightning that streak violently through the summer sky during an electrical storm. It felt as if my pelvis were the good-luck wishbone at a turkey feast, being pulled apart with feverish abandon. I couldn’t walk anywhere without a support belt on and even then it was difficult. Needless to say, I had a pretty miserable third trimester.
So when I thought about going through all that pain (not to mention labour!), upheaval and life-changing craziness and then not even getting to share my name with the baby I’d helped create and solely incubated, sustained and birthed…well, it made me quite upset, actually. I knew that, rationally and intellectually, it was just a name and shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks or what social conventions dictate, but the desire to be a full part of this little family I was creating and not feel like an outsider or in any way detached or different from my little girl was very strong. So strong, in fact, that I gave up on trying to convince my husband to adopt a double-barrelled name with me (he’d grown up with one and hated it so much that he’d officially dropped the second part when he was a teenager) and decided to just take on his. At the time, I had no patience for anything I construed as complicated or a pain in the ass and this was one way to simplify things.
My husband never asked me to do this for him, by the way; it was all my own anxieties and the pressure that I was feeling to conform and be a ‘good mother’ and a ‘good wife’ by the messages all around me, every day, about what that entails. I bought into the idea that not submitting to this tradition would cause more difficulties for myself and confusion for my children than it was worth. And now, almost four years later, I can say that it has and it hasn’t. There hasn’t been any name confusion, certainly. All four of us have the same last name and it is admittedly quite convenient to just jot down ‘The R___ Family’ instead of listing all of the variations. I don’t get misaddressed forms and Christmas cards and paperwork is pretty straightforward.
But that feminist voice inside my head has never stopped whispering “Why’d you do it? Was your reason really good enough? What kind of example are you setting by bucking so many sexist traditions and gender roles but embracing this one without much of a fight? You’re not you any more, you’re somebody’s WIFE.” Sometimes I let that voice get to me and at others, I leave that inner battle well enough alone, content that I’ve made my choice and that there’s no going back now. Let that be someone else’s Waterloo, I say.
Still, I wish women didn’t have to make this decision at all as it brings so many questions of identity to the surface. If by not changing our names we are making some kind of political statement of independence, does that mean that if we do change our names we’ve willingly given up a part of ourselves just for the ease of form-filling and avoiding awkward social situations? Does that make me a (gulp) conformist?
What has been your experience with name-changing after marriage, if that’s an institution you’re involved in? If you aren’t married, have you had any problems with the name presumptions, especially if you have children? Do you ever regret your decision?



