Recently I have been thinking about parenting. Particularly about anti-racist parenting and teaching feminism. I even asked people on Facebook to suggest good books. No one did… so, if you have any ideas, please leave them in the comment section.
Then, today, I posted this to my Facebook:
And as soon as I had posted it, I felt guilty. This isn’t enough. I want to talk about raising kids. I want to sort out my feelings, learn to recognize better ways, and learn how to raise my daughter to be whomever she wants to be.
And, I recognize, that it is easier for her to act like a boy or act like a girl, to straddle both worlds of culturally defined differences.
Then, tonight, as I watch my daughter sleep, I caught up on some blogs that I read. Dresden, who I have been reading since back when she was Calliope, talked about her son wanting a skirt and then wearing it to school. She talked about her struggle to talk to him about kids being mean and how to respond that anyone can wear anything they want. She got help from other people who gave great advice.
What perfect timing. Just the push I needed to say publicly that 1) I want to think and talk about this more and 2) I want to blog about it more.
Today, my daughter wore a multi-layered pink tutu like skirt. I have come to accept, that I need to support her in all her clothing choices— from more boyish (which perhaps I am more comfortable with) to pink, frilly, sparkly, and shinny. Her choices. Her representations of self. Her person to discover.