In praise of the girly-boy

There's been a lot of coverage in the media recently about girly boys. So, what is it about childhood gender identity that challenges us so much? Why are we so sissiphobic?

Things seemed to kick-off at the end of last year, when blogger Nerdy Apple Bottom wrote about her 5-year old son's decision to go to a Halloween Party dressed as Daphne from Scooby-Do, and her anger at the reaction of her fellow moms.

Then, we had a J-Crew ad that showed their head designer painting her son's toenails pink, which sparked a flurry of coverage, lead by FoxNews, around

what constitutes “good parenting”, with the inference that painting your son’s toenails pink was a clear example of “bad parenting”, backed-up with expert testimony that this was a surefire way to cause lasting damage to the boy.

And then we had a story of Malaysian authorities creating specialist camps to rid schoolboys of effeminate behaviour, which - interestingly - seemed to garner almost universal condemnation, and a general sense that this just goes to prove how crazy and foreign those South-East Asians are, what with their prohibition of chewing gum and their predilection for caning poor American graffiti taggers.

The lesson from this: criticism/condemnation/character assassination are acceptable ways to ensure that people conform to gender stereotypes - but overt physical coercion is not. Good to know...

I’ve been thinking about these cases quite a lot. And reflecting on my own childhood. It may be a sample of one, but if my experience is in any way representative, then young kids are pretty

blasé about about what they like. Preference is an early part of what forms personality. I mean, when I was a toddler, I took a shine to a doll (gasp!) at a garage sale (apparently, when you pulled the cord, it made a growling sound - and I thought it sounded like a tiger. Go figure.) - my parents were pretty cool with my selection. But, like most toys, it quickly fell from favour.

Now for FoxNews, that might be the smoking gun for my suspect orientation - but my read of the impact is that it made not a jot of difference.

But, a little later in life, what really made the difference to me and the way that I felt that I should behave (and the toys that I should like), was the impact of peer pressure.

Conformity is such a powerful force, most of us girly boys are brought into line well before we need to be sent to Butch Camp. And by the time I went to school, it was clear to me that dolls were not acceptable toys for boys.

Another piece of anecdotal evidence. When I was in my first year of school, my first best friend was a boy called Adam. We were in the same class. We hung out in the playground. We played 45-and-out with the big boys. And the big girls giggled at us, and tried to coerce us into games of kiss-chase. But, one day, with a mixture of bemusement and exhilaration, we witnessed the impact it had when one of us caught the other in a game of kiss-chase. I don’t think either of us had any idea why it might provoke such a reaction - and so neither of us objected when asked to repeat that act for the benefit of the assembled onlookers. But, boy, did it create a stir. Nobody really explained to us what was wrong about it. Apart from the fact that it was very wrong. So, we didn’t do it again.

Thinking back on this, I had a flash of realisation - I could try and track-down Adam, and see if this early counter-conformist expression was an indicator of a lifelong ‘suspect orientation’. Test the FoxNews’ child-rearing expert’s assertion that permitting early expressions of gender transgressive behaviour can lead to - ahem - ‘confusion’ in later life.

Now, I know there’s a dangerous assumption here - but the fact that Adam is now married, a champion downhill skier and a Major in the Army (having seen active service in Iraq) - makes me think that he’s probably not a sissyboy. As for his orientation, we can only surmise.

So, the straight boys of the world can breathe a sigh of relief, safe in the knowledge that I cannot convert them with the beguiling power of my soft lips.

So. I was still mulling some of this over when I read another article on instilling gender roles when raising kids. Coverage has been building on the Canadian couple who have decided to raise their newborn baby without gender. (Although this doesn't seem to be the first recorded incidence. A Swedish couple did the same thing in 2009)

Now, I don't make a habit of commenting on the way parents bring-up their kids (but - hey - they were the ones who did the media interviews...), but I applaud their decision to encourage their eldest two kids (boys, by the way) to express themselves freely, without concern for what is considered traditionally boyish appearance or behaviour. But I have to say I don't agree with their decision on how to raise their youngest. By keeping this child’s

gender a secret, these parents aren’t challenging the stereotypes that constrain us, that say ‘Boys can’t be caring and nurturing!', 'Girls can’t be tough and strong and aggressive!’ All that these parents are doing is retreating from the issue, rather than challenging it. I also don't think that they are giving the child 'freedom to choose'. After all, the child's sex is pretty definite. Its gender expression may be more commutable.

In my experience, our restricted sense of what masculine and feminine identities are, means that those who sit somewhat outside those parameters are subject to the full-force of society’s opprobrium.

And for scaredy-cats like me, who no longer play with dolls, pick flowers from the garden to make home-made rosewater, or experiment with painting their fingernails (all of which I was guilty of, until I realised that I wasn't supposed to do things like that), I owe a debt of gratitude to the brazen and unbroken gender-benders, the girly-guys on the front-line, who continue to push the boundaries by just walking down the street. Although I may not be cheering, inside my regulation issue t-shirt and jeans, I’m bursting with pride for you....