Going all Amish on your middle school or high school daughter, however, is another story. That’s when kids chafe against restrictions, become skilled at finding ways around them. It is also when the eye rolling begins in earnest, when girls are exquisitely tuned to the slightest whiff of a lecture. So haranguing your twelve-year-old when she tears it up to “What I wa-wa-want is what you wa-wa-want. Give it to me baby, like boom boom boom” is not going to reach her. However, open-minded, respectful conversation about the song’s underlying message (while acknowledging its catchy beat) very well might. Lyn Mikel Brown and Sharon Lamb, whose Packaging Girlhood offers excellent age-appropriate “sample conversations,” urge parents to ask girls questions rather than dole out opinions. Though it may sound like a big old duh, the best approach is to put reasonable limits on the girlz-with-a-z stuff for as long as you can and, over time, engage (without nagging) in regular dialogue with your daughter about what she consumes. Watching TV or listening to music along with your child is also a good idea, if you’re willing to discuss the content: otherwise, your presence comes off like an endorsement. The point, according to Erica Weintraub Austin, the director of the Edward R. Murrow School of Communication at Washington State University, is not so much to raise children who are cynical about the media as ones who are skeptical.
As it happens, skepticism had marked the beginning of the end of my daughter’s interest in the Disney Princesses. And it was sparked—by Disney itself ! Specifically, by Daisy’s embrace (with my enthusiastic approval) of Mulan, the girl who masqueraded as a male soldier and saved all of China. By rights, Mulan ought not to be in the Princess pantheon; though descended from an “honored” family, she was not herself royal, nor did she marry a prince. Plus, Mulan II, a straight-to-DVD sequel, portrays court life for women as little more than sumptuous slavery. In that film, Mulan and her fiancé, Shang, are charged with escorting a trio of princesses across China, where their arranged marriages will secure peace with a rival kingdom. Their showstopping musical number “Like Other Girls” expresses their longing for freedom: “No escorts / No manners / No nursemaids / No worries / No hands folded perfect, like holding a lily . . .”
“Why does she sing that?” Daisy asked one evening when she was around four.
“I suppose because it isn’t easy being a princess,” I said. “They don’t get to decide how to live or what to do. They always have to look and act just so.”
“Oh,” she said.
The song continued. “I wanna be like other girls. Scrape up my knees like other girls can.”
“Pause it,” Daisy commanded. Then: “Why does she say that?”
“I don’t think she really wants to get hurt,” I assured her, “but she wishes she could run and jump and play. Real princesses don’t have much fun.”
“Oh,” she said again. We continued on that way, her wanting to pause after each line so I could explain why these princesses were so unhappy being princesses.
“Oh,” she said every time.
A few days later, as we drove home from preschool, she asked about another song in the movie, “Lesson Number One.” It was one of my favorites: in it, Mulan schools a group of little girls on the yin and yang of female warriors.
“Mom?” Daisy asked. “How come in that song Mulan has to be gentle and strong but Shang is only strong?”
I looked into the rearview mirror and grinned as my eye caught hers.
As of summer 2010, several more Princess movies were coming down the pike. Pixar was planning to release Brave in 2012—its first ever film with a female protagonist. The studio’s lack of interest in the XX chromosome has been so entrenched that the original Toy Story, made in 1995, didn’t have a single significant female character, not even the obligatory bookish sidekick (yes, there was the “sweet and loveable porcelain shepherdess” Bo Peep, whom the little boy occasionally uses as his “damsel in distress,” but please!). Written by Brenda “first-woman-to-direct-an-animated-feature-which-should-be-a-source-of-industry-shame-rather-than-celebration” Chapman (who was subsequently removed from the project), Brave tells the story of “impetuous, tangle-haired Merida, [who,] though a daughter of royalty, would prefer to make her mark as a great archer.” Sounds promising, though I cannot help but feel, after waiting patiently (and sometimes not so patiently) through twelve genre-busting films about male robots, male superheroes, male cowboys, male rats, male cars, male bugs, male fish, and a small male mailman, that it would have been nice if the movie was not about a princess, even a kick-ass one. Honestly, is that too much to ask? Also, my fingers are crossed that her waistline will be several pixels thicker than depicted in the early sketches that were leaked onto the Internet.
Disney, too, was busily readying its next Princess rollout, though the Magic Kingdom had hit some bumps along the royal road: it turned out that, despite the massive hoopla generated over its release, The Princess and the Frog was a box-office dud. Relatively speaking, that is: I personally would not sneeze at a $222 million payday. But bear in mind that Pocahontas grossed $346 million in 1995, when theater tickets topped out at around $4.50. And Up, released six months before The Princess and the Frog, was a $731 million jackpot. How to explain the disappointment? Disney blamed it on . . . girls. In an interview with the Los Angeles Times, Ed Catmull, the president of Walt Disney and Pixar Animation Studios, surmised that the word “princess” might have scared off half the ticket-buying audience (that is, boys). None of the previous femalecentric movies—not even Cinderella—had initially been marketed as a “Princess” film, chiefly because the concept did not yet exist. They were simply family movies. (Though “Disney Princess” may have become a liability at the box office, the term remains a merchandising blockbuster—seventeen thousand Tiana dolls sold during the second week of November 2009 alone, even though the film would not open nationally for another month.) Unwilling to take any chances, Disney shelved its plans to plunder Hans Christian Andersen’s The Snow Queen and retooled its 2010 release, Rapunzel, to include a brand-new male character—a “bad-boy” bandit named Flynn Rider—who could be given equal billing with the lady of the locks. The project was retitled Tangled, which, as one Internet wag commented, was like renaming Sleeping Beauty “Coma.”
Maybe Tangled will be a spectacular romp. Maybe I will adore it; it could happen. But one thing is for sure: Tangled will not be “Rapunzel.” And that’s too bad, because “Rapunzel” is an especially layered and relevant fairy tale, less about the love between a man and a woman than the misguided attempts of a mother trying to protect her daughter from (what she perceives) as the world’s evils. The tale, you may recall, begins with a mother-to-be’s yearning for the taste of “rapunzel,” a salad green she spies growing in the garden of the sorceress who happens to live next door. The woman’s craving becomes so intense, she tells her husband that if he doesn’t fetch her some, she and their unborn baby will die. So he steals into the witch’s yard, wraps his hand around a plant, and, just as he pulls . . . she appears in a fury. The two eventually strike a bargain: the man’s wife can have as much of the plant as she wants—if she turns over her baby to the witch upon its birth. “I will care for it like a mother,” the sorceress croons (as if that makes it all right). Then again, who would you rather have as a mom: the woman who would do anything for you or the one who would swap you in a New York minute for a bowl of lettuce?
Rapunzel grows up, her hair grows down, and when she is twelve—note that age—Old Mother Gothel, as she calls the witch, leads her into the woods, locking her in a high tower which offers no escape and no entry except by scaling the girl’s flowing tresses. One day, a prince passes by and, on overhearing Rapunzel singing, falls immediately in love (that makes Rapunzel the inverse of Ariel—she is loved sight unseen because of her voice). He shinnies up her hair to say hello and, depending on which version you read, they have a chaste little chat or get busy conceiving twins.
Either way, when their tryst is discovered, Old Mother Gothel
cries, “You wicked child! I thought I had separated you from the world, and yet you deceived me!” There you have it: the Grimms’ warning to parents, centuries before psychologists would come along with their studies and measurements, against undue restriction. Interestingly, the prince can’t save Rapunzel from her foster mother’s wrath. When he sees the witch at the top of the now-severed braids, he jumps back in surprise and is blinded by the bramble that breaks his fall. He wanders the countryside for an unspecified time, living on roots and berries, until he accidentally stumbles upon his Love. She weeps into his sightless eyes, restoring his vision, and—voilà!—they rescue each other. “Rapunzel,” then, wins the prize for the most egalitarian romance, but that is not its only distinction: it is the only well-known tale in which the villain is neither maimed nor killed. No red-hot shoes are welded to the witch’s feet. Her eyes are not pecked out. Her limbs are not lashed to four horses who speed off in different directions. She is not burned at the stake. Why such leniency? Perhaps because she is not, in the end, really evil—she simply loves too much. What mother has not, from time to time, felt the urge to protect her daughter by locking her in a tower? Who among us doesn’t have a tiny bit of trouble letting our children go? If the hazel branch is the mother I aspire to be, then Old Mother Gothel is my cautionary tale: she reminds us that our role is not to keep the world at bay but to prepare our daughters so they can thrive within it.
That involves staying close but not crowding them, standing firm in one’s values while remaining flexible. The path to womanhood is strewn with enchantment, but it is also rife with thickets and thorns and a Big Bad Culture that threatens to consume them even as they consume it. The good news is, the choices we make for our toddlers can influence how they navigate it as teens. I’m not saying we can, or will, do everything “right,” only that there is power—magic—in awareness. If we start with that, with wanting girls to see themselves from the inside out rather than outside in, we will go a long way toward helping them find their true happily-ever-afters.
Acknowledgments
Tiaras all around to: my agent, Suzanne Gluck, for her fearless navigation of today’s publishing industry; Gillian Blake, who set this book ticking; Jennifer Barth, who skillfully saw it through; Ilena Silverman, my enabler; my “mother superiors” and trusted advisers—Sylvia Brownrigg, Ayelet Waldman, Ruth Halpern, Eva Eilenberg, Peg-bo Edersheim Kalb, Elly Eisenberg, Barbara Lee Swaiman, Sara Corbett, Cornelia Lauf, Rachel Silvers, Rinat Fried, Dawn Prestwich, Verna Williams; Pearlee Coty and Lilly Krenn; Teresa Tauchi, the queen of Web design and technology; Fred Stutzman, for saving me from myself; the Orenstein and Okazaki clans; Danny Sager and Brian McCarthy for bed and board (but never bored!); Steven, my own Prince Charming; and Daisy Tomoko, who never ceases to amaze, inspire, and humble me. Thanks, guys: you rule!
Notes
In the case of books, reports, articles in scholarly journals, and chapters of books, full citations will be found in the bibliography.
Chapter 1: Why I Hoped for a Boy
2 I had read about: J. T. Manning et al., “Parental Age Gap Skews Child Sex Ratio,” Nature 389, no. 6649 (1997): 344.
6 According to the American Psychological Association: American Psychological Association, Report of the APA Task Force on the Sexualization of Girls, www.apa.org/pi/wpo/sexualization .html. The report defines sexualization as occurring under any of the following conditions: “a person’s value comes only from his or her sexual appeal or behavior, to the exclusion of other characteristics; a person is held to a standard that equates physical attractiveness (narrowly defined) with being sexy; a person is sexually objectified—that is, made into a thing for others’ sexual use, rather than seen as a person with the capacity for independent action and decision making; and/or sexuality is inappropriately imposed upon a person” (p. 2). According to the report, at least thirty-eight experiments, thirty-two surveys, and two interview studies have investigated harmful connections between body dissatisfaction and the ideals of sexual attractiveness to which girls are constantly exposed (p. 23).
6 In one study: Deborah L. Tolman, Emily A. Impett, Allison J. Tracy, and Alice Michael, “Looking Good, Sounding Good.” See also Emily A. Impett, Deborah Schooler, and Deborah L. Tolman, “To Be Seen and Not Heard.”
6 the focus on appearance: Amy Slater and Marika Tiggemann, “A Test of Objectification Theory in Adolescent Girls”; American Psychological Association, Report of the APA Task Force, p. 23.
6 Even brief exposure: Duane Hargreaves and Marika Tiggemann, “The Effect of ‘Thin Ideal’ Television Commercials on Body Dissatisfaction and Schema Activation During Early Adolescence”; Duane Hargreaves and Marika Tiggemann, “The Effect of Television Commercials on Mood and Body Dissatisfaction”; Duane Hargreaves and Marika Tiggemann, “Idealized Media Images and Adolescent Body Image”; Paul G. Davies, Steven J. Spencer, Diane M. Quinn, and Rebecca Gerhardstein, “Consuming Images”; B. L. Fredrickson, T. A. Roberts, S. M. Noll, D. M. Quinn, and J. M. Twenge, “That Swimsuit Becomes You.”
Chapter 2: What’s Wrong with Cinderella?
13 They did not exist: Andy Mooney, “Remarks by Andy Mooney, Chairman, Disney Consumer Products,” New York Licensing Show, New York, June 20, 2006.
13 the now-legendary story: Author’s interview with Andy Mooney, Chairman, Disney Consumer Products, July 19, 2006.
13 Disney had never marketed: Author’s interview with Mary Beech, Vice President, Girls Franchise Management, Disney Consumer Products, July 19, 2006.
14 It is also worth noting: Author’s interview with Andy Mooney, July 19, 2006.
14 The first Princess items: Ibid.
14 By 2009: Disney Consumer Products, “Disney Consumer Products Poised to Significantly Increase Share of Boys Market,” press release, June 3, 2010, www.businesswire.com/news/home/20100603005682/en/Disney-Consumer-Products-Sig nificantly-Increase-Share.
14 more than twenty-six thousand: Author’s interview with Andy Mooney, July 19, 2006.
14 “Princess” has not only: Disney Consumer Products, “Disney Consumer Products Poised.”
14 To this day: Author’s interview with Andy Mooney, July 19, 2006.
15 Meanwhile, by 2001: Author’s interview with Sarah Buzby, Director of Barbie Marketing, Mattel, August 9, 2006.
15 Barbie sales were declining: Ibid. See also Nicholas Casey, “Mattel Profits Despite Barbie,” The Wall Street Journal, February 1, 2008, p. A11.
15 in 2004: Author’s interview with Brown Johnson, Executive Creative Director, Nickelodeon Preschool Television, August 9, 2006.
16 the more mainstream media: American Psychological Association, Report of the APA Task Force, pp. 27–28.
16 teenage girls and college students: Tolman et al., “Looking Good, Sounding Good”; Impett et al., “To Be Seen and Not Heard”; Anna Fels, “Do Women Lack Ambition?” Harvard Business Review, April 2004, www.orijen.com.au/resources/1/news-research-docs/HBR%20Do%20women%20lack%20am bition.pdf.
16 They are also less likely: American Psychological Association, Report of the APA Task Force, pp. 26–27; Tolman et al., “Looking Good, Sounding Good”; Impett et al., “To Be Seen and Not Heard.”
17 Take the female college students: Davies et al., “Consuming Images.”
17 who performed better: Fredrickson et al., “That Swimsuit Becomes You.”
17 a 2006 survey: Girls Incorporated, The Supergirl Dilemma.
18 In her brilliant book: Susan Douglas, Enlightened Sexism, p. 16.
21 nearly half of boys: Author’s interview with Isabelle Cherney, Department of Psychology, Creighton University, January 25, 2008. See also Isabelle Cherney and J. Dempsey (in press), “Young Children’s Classification, Stereotyping, and Play Behavior for Gender Neutral and Ambiguous Toys”; Isabelle Cherney and K. London, “Gender-linked Differences in the Toys, Television Shows, Computer Games, and Outdoor Activities of 5- to 13-Year-Old Children.”
21 boys as young as four: Author’s interview with
Isabelle Cherney, January 25, 2008.
21 Boys were also: Cherney and Dempsey, “Young Children’s Classification.” Parents of both sexes, even today, are more likely to give children gender-stereotyped toys and encourage them to play with them. What’s more, if a new toy is described as being liked by the other sex, it is often avoided, whereas if it is said to be for a child’s own sex, it will be embraced. Carol Lynn Martin and Richard Fabes, Discovering Childhood Development, pp. 304–305.
24 That certainly fits: Author’s interview with Mary Beech, July 19, 2006.
24 Gary Cross: Cross, “Wondrous Innocence”; Cross, “Valves of Adult Desire.”
24 They rebel against: Gary Cross, “Valves of Desire”; Cross, “Wondrous Innocence”; Cross, “Valves of Adult Desire”; author’s interview with Gary Cross, February 2, 2009.
25 as another cultural historian: Author’s interview with Miriam Forman-Brunell, Department of History, University of Missouri–Kansas City, November 15, 2006.
25 Shirley Temple’s film version: Ibid.
25 A mere six years old: “Biography of Shirley Temple Black,” www .kennedy-center.org/calendar/index.cfm?fuseaction=show Individual&entity_id=3814&source_type=A; see also Shirley Temple Black, Child Star.
25 President Franklin Roosevelt: “Biography of Shirley Temple Black.”
26 the top of the box office: Ibid. See also Ken Severson, “Biography for Shirley Temple,” www.imdb.com/name/nm0000073/bio.
26 She also became: Gary Cross, Kids’ Stuff, pp. 117–118.
28 American Girl was born: “A History of Helping Girls Shine,” www .americangirl.com/corp/corporate.php?section=about&id=2. See also Gretchen Morgenson, Forbes Great Minds of Business, pp. 123–125.
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