I thought I knew what princesses were to the current generation of children, because I knew what they meant to my nieces.
With Disney hyping its long lineage of princesses to young girls, there is much fretting in Parentland about princess-ness as a commodity that preschool girls think their parents can buy for them. True, Disney's film princesses are pluckier and more well-rounded as characters now than they used to be, but Disney can't sell pluck and well-roundedness in shrink wrap in the kids' section at Walmart; Disney can, and abundantly does, sell frilly clothes and sparkly plastic jewelry.
Although my son does know enough about girl-culture to identify anyone in a frilly pink dress and a tiara as a princess, he has an entirely different idea of the distinguishing features of princess-ness that matter most.
For him, the foundational princesses are from an episode of The Backyardigans in which the female characters pretend they're princesses escaping from a tower. They're not only brave and resourceful--they have MacGuyveresque skill at inventing equipment they'll need for their escape, and concealing that equipment in their frilly dresses, glass slippers, and Princess-Leia-parody hairdos.
How did I find out that my kid's definition of the word princess was about physical heroism and engineering prowess?
I heard him declaring, "I am a princess!" and when I turned around expecting to see him cross-dressing, I saw him standing on a stepladder, poised to swing, Tarzan-like, from the string of the venetian blinds.
(Yes, I know, no blinds with strings in a house with small children. Childproofing is one of those projects that never ends.)
There may not be much help for my nieces until they're old enough to read Robin McKinley's novels and Jack Zipes's wonderful collections of revisionist fairy tales, but at least the reimagining of princesses that's happened for older audiences has trickled down enough to reach some boys. When Katherine, Zoe, and Eleanor are old enough to wear their frilly dresses for male eyes rather than their own or their female peers', there will be at least a few boys out there, and maybe more than a few, whose buried childhood mental associations for those dresses are with martial arts moves and rocket slippers.
With Disney hyping its long lineage of princesses to young girls, there is much fretting in Parentland about princess-ness as a commodity that preschool girls think their parents can buy for them. True, Disney's film princesses are pluckier and more well-rounded as characters now than they used to be, but Disney can't sell pluck and well-roundedness in shrink wrap in the kids' section at Walmart; Disney can, and abundantly does, sell frilly clothes and sparkly plastic jewelry.
Although my son does know enough about girl-culture to identify anyone in a frilly pink dress and a tiara as a princess, he has an entirely different idea of the distinguishing features of princess-ness that matter most.
For him, the foundational princesses are from an episode of The Backyardigans in which the female characters pretend they're princesses escaping from a tower. They're not only brave and resourceful--they have MacGuyveresque skill at inventing equipment they'll need for their escape, and concealing that equipment in their frilly dresses, glass slippers, and Princess-Leia-parody hairdos.
How did I find out that my kid's definition of the word princess was about physical heroism and engineering prowess?
I heard him declaring, "I am a princess!" and when I turned around expecting to see him cross-dressing, I saw him standing on a stepladder, poised to swing, Tarzan-like, from the string of the venetian blinds.
(Yes, I know, no blinds with strings in a house with small children. Childproofing is one of those projects that never ends.)
There may not be much help for my nieces until they're old enough to read Robin McKinley's novels and Jack Zipes's wonderful collections of revisionist fairy tales, but at least the reimagining of princesses that's happened for older audiences has trickled down enough to reach some boys. When Katherine, Zoe, and Eleanor are old enough to wear their frilly dresses for male eyes rather than their own or their female peers', there will be at least a few boys out there, and maybe more than a few, whose buried childhood mental associations for those dresses are with martial arts moves and rocket slippers.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-29 05:21 am (UTC)Did fetch the step-ladder for himself, or was it out for use during the fixing of the patio?
no subject
Date: 2010-10-04 05:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-29 06:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-04 06:01 am (UTC)My second thought (I'm such a mom): You could have gotten tetanus!
My sister's made sure her girls have plastic armor and plastic medieval weaponry, but apparently those are used for separate, and very different, play from the princess-play, which mostly involves pirouetting in front of mirrors. My sister-in-law doesn't allow toy weapons of any kind, but then, she also doesn't allow television, so there's less pirouetting and mirror fixation for that niece.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-04 07:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-29 07:07 am (UTC)Must get a copy of this series for the nieces.
Oh, and I have discovered that the payment for our Happy New Person gift did not go through (using a US-based website). Much embarrassment. We will rectify.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-04 06:05 am (UTC)And yes, your nieces must have (and may already have) The Backyardigans. Wikipedia says it's released in a British version with different voice actors, so kids can hear it in a familiar accent.
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Date: 2010-09-29 08:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-04 06:15 am (UTC)If you allow television for your daughter, you might want to get the other princess-related Backyardigans episode, "The Secret of the Nile," in which the character pretending to be a princess starts out glamor-obsessed and bossy, but goes on a quest for better manners so she can save all of Egypt.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-04 07:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-29 11:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-29 01:40 pm (UTC)we've got a whole wide world to explore...
Date: 2010-09-29 03:03 pm (UTC)So far my boy only associates princesses with dresses.
I mean, he puts one on every night (his tub-exiting towel: "daddy, get my princess dress!") but hopefully that association will change over time.
I'll look for the tower episode.
thanks! -greg
Re: we've got a whole wide world to explore...
Date: 2010-10-04 06:19 am (UTC)When Gareth finishes his bath, we sing him the old Vassar Hygiene Song while we towel him off.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-29 09:41 pm (UTC)The swingset becomes an airship, and we sail forth over the landscape of Raritania.
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Date: 2010-10-04 06:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-30 01:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-04 06:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-30 12:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-04 06:38 am (UTC)One of the weirder ancient objects that used to be in the ancestral Adirondack cabin was a bone-china Limoges chamber pot with hand painted gold flourishes. I remember thinking it looked like something that ought to be under a princess's bed.
So, if little girls around the world now have princess potties to entice them to learn their potty skills, I wonder what actual princesses' caregivers resort to.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-01 05:11 am (UTC)There is a book by the title of Tatterhood with fairy tales featuring female protagonists. I will have to check my copy but I think it is for slightly older than preschool age kids. Also if you get a more extensive fairy tale collection rather than just the Disney favorites there are a fair number of ones with girls in an active role.
That being said, my not yet 2 year old daughter is practically obsessed with plastic beads and other dress up jewelery. And I'm not sure what message (mixed?)I'm sending by getting the kids wooden trains to paint and making hers "princess pink." At least it cuts down the chances of her brother stealing it. Maybe I should try and paint one to look like the train in the Backyardigans Catch That Train episode.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-01 12:54 pm (UTC)I'm sure there wasn't this amount of pink and glitter around when I was little. There are very few photos I can find of my sister or myself (or any other kids) wearing it in the 70s. Now, when you go to the kids' department of any shop, there's far more emphasis on khaki and blue for boys and what T calls "the explosion of pink" for girls.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-04 06:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-06 06:02 am (UTC)And in another strike at gender equity in out house I got both my son and daughter glittery pink princess storage bins with wheels (on clearance). They have both been happily wheeling toys around in them for days.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-04 06:56 am (UTC)