I recently re-read the GENDER book. First and foremost, this was a good reminder that I
have more to learn (and always will!) about gender identity, and other identities, and how
to honor people’s chosen identities. But more specifically it got me thinking about how we
gender children, especially really young children who haven't declared a gender for
themselves.
have more to learn (and always will!) about gender identity, and other identities, and how
to honor people’s chosen identities. But more specifically it got me thinking about how we
gender children, especially really young children who haven't declared a gender for
themselves.
The book got me thinking more consciously about how we as a society assign gender
(typically based on a binary understanding of sex) to babies. I started noticing this
behavior in particular when I was pregnant. The most common first question was ‘Is it a
boy or a girl?’, and since I didn’t want to know until the birth I used humor to move through
these moments, as gently as I could making the (often entirely unconsidered) point of how
useless it is to know a fetus’s genitalia. I typically responded with ‘It’s a human!’
(typically based on a binary understanding of sex) to babies. I started noticing this
behavior in particular when I was pregnant. The most common first question was ‘Is it a
boy or a girl?’, and since I didn’t want to know until the birth I used humor to move through
these moments, as gently as I could making the (often entirely unconsidered) point of how
useless it is to know a fetus’s genitalia. I typically responded with ‘It’s a human!’
I still want to say ‘My kiddo is a human!’ when people ask if my child is a boy or a girl
(although now they assume one or the other, most often based on shoe color it seems,
and ask if they're correct). It feels a bit more pedantic to me now though to try to use that
same humor, because I do use male pronouns, and precisely because he has a penis. So
the humor still works when I get the sense that I’m interacting with someone who will
appreciate the ridiculousness of pink shoes meaning someone is female and a girl. But in
other settings, I find myself just answering the question and moving past the interaction. It’s
such a strange feeling, because part of me is thinking in those moments: ‘Why do you want
to know my child's sex in order to determine how you want to interact with them?’ The
question seems so intrusive, and irrelevant. But being frustrated in those moments doesn’t
really help me understand where people are coming from, and it doesn’t help me move
through my days with gratitude, both of which are aspects of myself that I highly value.
Reading the GENDER book again got me thinking more about what I can creatively do about
this discomfort.
(although now they assume one or the other, most often based on shoe color it seems,
and ask if they're correct). It feels a bit more pedantic to me now though to try to use that
same humor, because I do use male pronouns, and precisely because he has a penis. So
the humor still works when I get the sense that I’m interacting with someone who will
appreciate the ridiculousness of pink shoes meaning someone is female and a girl. But in
other settings, I find myself just answering the question and moving past the interaction. It’s
such a strange feeling, because part of me is thinking in those moments: ‘Why do you want
to know my child's sex in order to determine how you want to interact with them?’ The
question seems so intrusive, and irrelevant. But being frustrated in those moments doesn’t
really help me understand where people are coming from, and it doesn’t help me move
through my days with gratitude, both of which are aspects of myself that I highly value.
Reading the GENDER book again got me thinking more about what I can creatively do about
this discomfort.
My main action around this discomfort is to find a term of endearment that is not gendered
(my go-to is “kiddo”), and to catch myself when I refer to children with assumed-gender
pronouns, and instead use the term ‘kiddo(s)’ to refer to kids, or ‘children’ if I’m feeling all
formal. I like the approach of challenging myself not to gender children - it feels like a step in
the right direction of not gendering people in general...until they actually have a chance to tell
me about their gender, if they choose to!
(my go-to is “kiddo”), and to catch myself when I refer to children with assumed-gender
pronouns, and instead use the term ‘kiddo(s)’ to refer to kids, or ‘children’ if I’m feeling all
formal. I like the approach of challenging myself not to gender children - it feels like a step in
the right direction of not gendering people in general...until they actually have a chance to tell
me about their gender, if they choose to!
