Me: So Katie, what do you think we should get for Eli and Brian?

Katie: Something boy-lish.

Annie: There’s no such thing as “boy-lish” Katie. ‘Cause boys can like girls’ toys and girls can like boys’ toys.

Me: OooRrr….toys are for everyone, and boys and girls should get to play with whatever they like.

Annie: Right. That’s what I meant.

image credit: ms office images

In a phone conversation with a friend of mine, the Manager expressed gratitude for having this issue brought to her attention. She acknowledged that there really was nothing cute about a sign reading “Boys Stink” and regretted that it had gone up in the first place. And then she said something that I think we can all relate to,

“I saw it, but I didn’t really see it. You know?”

Yeah, I do know.

image credit: “Vintage Illustrated Poem” on eBay
What Are Little Boys Made Of?

How many times have we recited nursery rhymes that imply the superiority of one sex over the other? How many times have we heard chants that suggest some battle between the sexes? How many times have we read logos on shirts or titles on books that involve the degradation of one sex by the other?

image credit: zazzle.com

*  In the words of my friend Melissa Wardy of Pigtail Pals and Ballcap Buddies, “You don’t raise girls up by breaking boys down.”  Is there really a winner when the advancement of one means the decline of the other? The battle of the sexes is a zero-sum game, but since the beginning of time we’ve pitted one sex against the other while all evidence points to the fact that this is indeed not helpful to anyone.

Don’t we want kids to get along and respect each other? Isn’t that what we expect them to do as adults? The “boys versus girls” messaging is so prevalent, it is easy to see how many of us have become desensitized to it.  Yet, if we open our eyes to it, it’s plain to see how it is eroding relationships between boys and girls/ men and women and we need to ask ourselves “Why?”

I never doubted that Nordstrom would remove the “Boys Stink” signs from their stores, but I think what happened was a bit more than a store responding to “offended” customers by taking down some plaques. I like to think we helped a big corporation to SEE something. And for this I thank you!

Over the weekend I was passing through the Nordstrom Children’s Department, and I saw this:

After a brief chat with the salesperson, I decided to write this:

I was recently shopping in the children’s department at your Scottsdale, Arizona location, and I was surprised and upset to see a sign hanging in the girls’ section that read: Boys Stink. I asked the sales clerk if anyone had complained about it yet. She told me, “no,” and added that it was just meant to be cute. When I asked her if there was an equally negative sentiment about girls hanging in the boys’ section, she told me, “no.” She did share that she had overheard some young (male) shoppers complain to their parents that it wasn’t fair that a ‘Girls Stink’ sign wasn’t hanging on the boys’ side.

By no means am I writing to suggest that you make it “fair” by creating balanced slanderous signage. I am writing to point out that a sign that says “Boys Stink” is really not cute at all. It’s mean. And as a mother of two daughters, I’m just grateful that they are too young to read. As a retail store I realize you are not in the business of creating social change, but I do believe you are in the business of making customers feel good about themselves. Having a sign that tells half the population that they stink seems to me to be counterproductive.

I know some adults think that there is really no harm in pitting boys and girls against each other, but many of us see it in a different way. Many of us hope to see our kids (boys and girls) developing kind, caring relationships with one another. Many of us would like for our kids to grow-up without negative feelings about the other gender. Many of us would like for our kids to not be exposed to such antiquated gender attitudes, stereotypes and biases. But above all, I think most of us would like for our kids to be nice. Telling boys that they stink is not nice – any child over the age of 2 could tell you that.

I realize that some people may feel that I am overreacting, but I don’t think I’m off base expecting your company to treat all of your customers with respect. After all, Nordstrom is known for outstanding customer service. I’m quite certain your company would never authorize a sign reading ‘Women Suck’ to hang in the men’s department. So it seems logical for Nordstrom to use the same consideration for their youngest customers as well. Don’t you agree?

Sincerely,

Hillary Manaster

Hillary L. Manaster M.Ed.
Sanford Harmony Program
School of Social and Family Dynamics
Arizona State University
www.sanfordharmonyprogram.org

And then I received this:

Hello Hillary,

Thank you for taking the time to share your feedback. Our customers’ opinions are very important to Nordstrom and greatly assist us with our continued efforts to provide the best merchandise and service to our customers.

I think you have made a very good point in showing how to set a good example for all our customers. Please know that I will share your experience and feedback, so that we learn and improve. If you need anything else, please do not hesitate to contact me.

Regards,

Stony
Customer Service Specialist
Nordstrom
888.282.6060

I’d like to give Nordstrom the benefit of the doubt, and I’m hopeful that this concern is getting passed along the proper channels. I’ll be sure to post any updates, but in the meantime, if anyone else would like to contact customer service to let them know what you think about this sign, it would be good for them to hear from you. contact@nordstrom.com

The good news is I have an amazing new children’s book series to salute. Well, it’s not exactly new, but it is new to me. And while I may be somewhat late to the party, I’m sure glad I’m here! The Elephant & Piggie Series by Mo Willems is everything I look for and LOVE in children’s books – clever storylines, endearing characters, and a focus on social and emotional topics. Each Elephant & Piggie story is brilliantly layered, giving parents and children something to think about and talk about while enjoying the clever humor.

Now it may be true that I’m often accused of having the sense of humor of a 3 ½ year old, but I know in this case I’m not the only adult to think these books are hilarious.  That being said, my real-life 3 ½ year-old is currently favoring Should I Share My Ice Cream?

image credit: Pigeon Presents! at http://www.mowillems.com

In this story Gerald (aka Elephant) faces a self-inflicted dilemma of whether or not to share his ice cream cone with his best friend Piggie. After quite a bit of anguished decision making, he resolves to share his “awesome, yummy, sweet, super, great, tasty, nice, cool ice cream,” only to find that it has melted. Devastated to be unable to share with Piggie, Gerald becomes equally distraught to realize he no longer has any ice cream himself. But as luck would have it, Piggie shows up with an ice cream cone of her own to share with her best buddy. I love how this book encourages empathy yet shows the many different feelings (positive and negative) and motivations that go along with sharing. And as a parent who has – on more than one occasion – asked children to take shoes out of their mouths, the implication of friends licking from the same ice cream cone didn’t scare me one bit.

I love all the focus on friendship, empathy and pro social behavior in these books! The other wonderful thing about this series is how fabulous the vocabulary is for beginning readers. And it just so happens that I also have a 5 ½ year-old beginning reader of my own at home who has become particularly drawn to Listen to My Trumpet!

image credit: Pigeon Presents! at http://www.mowillems.com

In this story Piggie solicits an honest opinion from Gerald in response to her (difficult to listen to) trumpet playing. Desperate not to hurt Piggie’s feelings, Gerald is eventually coaxed into admitting he didn’t think it was very good music. This revelation surprises Piggie, but not because it hurts her feelings – she wasn’t trying to make music…she was trying to speak elephant. In the end a relieved Gerald helps Piggie work on her “accent,” and beginning readers have an opportunity to practice sounding out consonant blends and short vowel sound in the form of fun, nonsense words -
Gr-ICK! Bl-AP! Fr-IP! Br-IP! Vr-IP!

As a person who typically judges a book by its cover, I’m so glad I had a friend turn me on to this fabulous series - thanks Rachel L! I’m so grateful Elephant and Piggie are now in my repertoire. They have become a fast favorite in my house, and I’m feeling quite certain they will make it onto the greatest hits list of anyone under age 6 (or over age 16)!

To see all the titles from this series click here.

image credit: MS Office Clip Art

It’s been 6 years since I’ve put up bulletin boards, arranged desks or created a classroom schedule.  I remember those days well and all the thought and consideration that went into establishing certain classroom routines. And while I fondly recall many of the classroom management strategies I implemented year after year, the rationale behind those approaches is somewhat foggy. Becoming a parent has certainly changed my lens, but the project I have been a part of at ASU has really shifted my thinking when it comes to peer relationships and creating a sense of community. For the past two and a half years, my work on the Sanford Harmony Program has me focusing on supporting children, teachers and parents in improving relationships.  And while we place specific attention on combatting gender segregation and gender stereotypes, the work we are doing supports inclusive behaviors and attitudes on a much broader level.

Now with so many decisions teachers make to positively impact the physical and social environment in the classroom, it may seem a bit strange that I have locked into one specific practice – the seating arrangement. By seating arrangement, I don’t mean that I have been thinking back on the physical layout of furniture in my classroom, but rather the choices I made to mix-up boys and girls whenever possible. And just as I have noticed in my daughter’s kindergarten classroom, I know that I sat my students at tables with an intentionally equal girl/boy ratio. But why did I do that? Was I attempting to create groups that were gender balanced? Probably. Was I seeking to give my students an opportunity to sit with a variety of classmates? Maybe. Was I hoping to promote positive, balanced friendships between boys and girls? I don’t know. Was I aiming to keep the socializing down to a minimum? It’s possible….

Yeah, it is possible. Because sitting “boy-girl” would ensure that they wouldn’t really be sitting with their “friends,” right? And that is why I’m fixated on the thinking that went into that decision (that and my predisposition for obsessive thoughts). Looking back it seems that some efforts I made to focus on equality and celebrate diversity may have been somewhat superficial.  I can see now that my personal assumptions about boy-girl friendships played out in public ways. By making assumptions about whom kids would like to be friends with, I limited the choices for them. Yes I sat students at mixed gender tables to create a sense of balance, but I wish I had done so with the intention of creating opportunities for girls and boys to work together in positive, collaborative, and cooperative ways. Instead of wanting to keep the noise level down, I should have wanted boys and girls to learn from and about each other. And instead of perpetuating the cycle of girls and boys honing their communication and social skills in separate and segregated gender peer groups, I could have helped to guide boys and girls in developing skills in collaboration with each other and establishing friendships that would lay the foundation for healthy balanced relationships throughout their lifetimes.

I don’t know if I’ll ever end up back in the classroom, but one thing is certain, the lens from which I view peer relationships has been altered in a significant way. And as I move forward in my current role as an elementary school parent, I will keep in mind the importance of providing opportunities to cultivate new friendships and keep my own assumptions in check.

Annie started kindergarten last week. We have been eagerly awaiting this magical milestone, and placing a lot of focus on the “big day!” And while I’m all for establishing positive expectations, I walk a fine line between building confidence and creating too much pressure when it comes to preparing Annie for something new.  I know many kids do well when there is excitement and build-up leading up to an important event. My oldest child is not one of them. And in the spirit of all the important learning that lies ahead this school year, I have already learned something valuable –my child’s stress threshold is uniquely her own.

I wanted her first day of school to be so wonderful and so exciting, and now I wonder if there was just  no way for a “day” to live up to such expectations for her. And it didn’t. It was a bad day, and I was not at all prepared for it. In fact, I was truly confident that it was going to be fantastic. I didn’t worry about the long day (she went to preschool 5 days a week for seven hours a day), I wasn’t concerned about her making new friends (she amazed me this summer making friends quickly and easily at a new camp in a new city), and I didn’t fuss about her taking care of herself (she’s always been an independent kid). Not for one minute did I imagine her first day of school being anything but great.

It wasn’t.

Ugh….my baby! She walked out of school so sad, so overwhelmed, so uncomfortable……the worry on her face and the distress so clear in her body language caused my heart to ache. Some parents cried at drop off on that first day. I cried at pick-up.

The next morning Annie told me she hated school and hated kindergarten. I told her not to rush the judgment seeing as she had only tried it for a couple of hours. I dropped her off with a belly ache and a pit in my own stomach that didn’t go away until she stepped off the bus. Her feet had barely touched the ground when she declared that she had “the awesomest day ever!” While I felt some sense of relief hearing her share this sentiment, it was pretty clear that she was trying really, really hard to convince both of us that that was true.

It’s now the start of the second week, and she is still a nervous wreck. Worrying about her worrying, I’m a nervous wreck too (I wonder where she gets it).  I am utterly consumed with her social and emotional well-being and desperately trying to keep my own anxieties to myself.  There are so many things I want to ask her, so many things I want to say. I’m exercising self-control, but inside I’m perseverating:

What’s happening in your classroom?
Did you cry?
Why’d you cry?
Were you sad?
Were you scared?
When?
Where?
Why?
Does the teacher see when you’re struggling to feel connected?
Does anyone take notice when you’re anxious?
Are you trying to be brave?
Are you trying too hard to be brave?
You don’t have to be brave all the time. It’s okay to feel nervous. Everyone feels nervous.
Is your tummy hurting all day?
Are you telling anyone?
Who did you sit with?
Who did you spend time with?
Are the kids nice?
Are you being nice?
Are you making any new friends?
Did we overwhelm you with all this kindergarten talk?
Too much pressure?
Are you happy today?

Obsessive thoughts aside, I am trying to push ahead without feeding this hiccup too much energy. This isn’t the beginning of her ***first full week of school*** Today is simply Tuesday. She will have the day she has (a la Timothy Green), and she will grow and learn . . .  . just as I will.  And while I still find I am easily overwhelmed by thoughts of her fragile 5-year-old psyche, I quickly remind myself how resilient kids are. This is an important experience for her, isn’t it? She’ll find her sea legs and come out of this adjustment period stronger and more confident, right?
And as for me….there’s always red wine.

In this beautifully illustrated picture book, Wemberly, a young mouse that worries about everything, faces her biggest fear – the first day of school. In the end of this sweet and reassuring story, Wemberly becomes friends with another mouse in class and has an excellent first day!

Henkes tells a tale of coping with fears and cleverly uses characters to model positive and healthy ways to establish friendships. I just love how Wemberly and her friend Jewel greet each other in a way that makes them both feel comfortable and quickly discover things they have in common by sharing information about themselves. Very realistic and very relatable.

Since my little kindergartener is not tremendously forthcoming with her thoughts and feelings, this story helped anchor some of the conversations I was hoping to have with her on the eve of her first day of school.

Me: So how do you think Wemberly and Jewel were feeling at first?
Annie: Shy.
Me: Yeah. How were you feeling at Open House this morning when we first walked in?
Annie: I felt shy too.
Me: I know…. A lot of people feel shy or nervous when something is new. You know who used to always feel nervous on the first day of school?
Annie: You!
Me: Yep! I would worry about all the kids having a great day.  I’d worry about planning enough fun things to do. But you know what – the first day always turned out great! Are you worried?
Annie: Yeah. No. I’m just feeling shy.
Me: Yeah. I know how you feel. Wemberly and Jewel started out shy, but then what happened?
Annie: They started to play.
Me: Kind of like you today at Open House with Peyton and James. You all found something you had in common. Remember what that was?
Annie: We were building.
Me: Right. That was fun, huh?
Annie: Yeah….

While Wemberly’s parents never engage their young mouse in a conversation about her feelings – repeating phrases like “Don’t worry” and “You worry too much” throughout the book – I certainly appreciated the opportunity this book afforded me to explore some of the emotions that come along with the start of something new. So thank you Kevin Henkes – Wemberly Worried remains one of my most favorite back-to-school books for the 6 and under crowd.

Other great children’s books to help with the first day jitters (Preschool-First Grade)

Llama, Llama Misses Mama by Anna Dewdney
Chrysanthemum by Kevin Henkes
The Kissing Hand by Audrey Penn and Ruth E. Harper

Many would argue that it is crucial to always speak-up, raise your concerns, make your requests, state your needs…  A reader on my last blog post commented,

“When it comes to your kids and someone else being responsible for them, speak your mind…you only have one shot at raising your daughter, so call them up and politely express your concern. Who cares what they think of you anyway, it’s your daughter and you determine what is inappropriate.”

To a large extent I agree. But I do believe that a constant squeaky wheel will get ignored over time and poorly timed, ill-phrased “constructive criticism” can have an even worse effect.   Having been on the receiving end of parent grievances, recommendations and requests, I can say with a good amount of assurance that always making your grievances, recommendations and requests known is a surefire way to have your grievances, recommendations or requests discredited. You’ve got to choose your battles and your words wisely.

So with this in mind I grappled with saying something to the camp director about some songs and dances that were taught to the kids that teetered on the edge of inappropriateness. And if I did say something, how would I say it to ensure it be taken seriously? After much back and forth, and some solid encouragement from you folks reading this blog, I decided to write the director last week. Here is the email I sent:

And…..I got nothing—no response. So now I face the dilemma again. Do I push it? Try a different angle? OR, feel satisfied that I spoke-up and maybe they will think about things differently as they move forward?  I know that the most important thing I have done as a parent is to talk with my daughter about what to do with the messages she is getting from the world around her, so do I let it lie from here?

On one particular day she came home begging (I mean seriously – hands clasped, on knees… begging) for me to download the song “Call Me Maybe.” No doubt this is quite the catchy tune – I had been enjoying it with the rest of America myself. But now my 5 year old was on the floor, campaigning desperately for me to add it to our collection:

Annie: “Please Mommy!! I know ALL the words!”
Me: “I don’t know Anne. I don’t really like this song for you.”
Annie: “And I learned the whole dance!”
Me: “Annie, this song is kind of inappropriate.”
Annie: “I learned it at camp.” (And by this I believe she meant that it must be sanctioned).
Me: “Oh, hey….how about this Kidz Bop version?”
Annie: “Nooooo (defeated tears). I learned the whole thing and I want to show you.”
Me: “Arrrrgghhh…..Fine!”

The garage door opened as the song downloaded, and Annie raced to greet my husband at the door.

Annie: “Daddy come quick! This song is really un-appropriate. But you’re going to LOVE the dance!!”

I don’t know if I’d say that I loved the dance. It was awfully “mature.” I love the dancer and her determination, concentration and tenacity. But the dance left me feeling uncomfortable and not sure what I should do about it.  Should I say something to the camp directors? What would I even say that wouldn’t have me ignored as a fun-sucking, goody-two-shoe mom? Is the song really that inappropriate? Should I have held my ground at the downloading stand-off? I really don’t know…..“Call Me Maybe” may not be the most over-the-top with the mature messages or overly sexually explicit, but hearing those words sung by my 5 year-old did cause me to pause, yet, I really didn’t do anything about it.

Image credit: Live Science “Why 6 Year-Old Girls Want To Be Sexy”

I think some people would argue that it’s the parents’ responsibility to control the media and messages their children are exposed to. I also think most parents would argue – impossible! A recent study published in the journal Sex Roles found that when girls ages 6 to 9 years-old were shown images of sexy vs. trendy, but covered up dolls, 68% of the girls said the sexy doll looked how they wanted to look, and 72% said they believed the sexy doll was more popular than the non-sexy doll.  While these findings are alarming and upsetting, they may not be all together surprising. But what struck me as one of the most interesting parts of the study was that “low media consumption” was not a protective factor against early self-sexualization in girls. According to the synopsis in Live Science, authors of the study indicated that “mothers who reported often using TV and movies as teaching moments about bad behaviors and unrealistic scenarios were much less likely to have daughters who said they looked like the sexy doll.”

Assuming this applies to other negative messages and media sources our kids are exposed to, this disturbing study actually left me feeling less hopeless. So while I may have felt a bit defeated with my daughter’s un-appropriate performance of “Call Me Maybe,” I’m committed to taking better advantage of teachable moments with my kids (although I can’t promise I’ll be correcting the grammar).

While it appeared that we traveled in the wrong direction last week, we have really been enjoying ourselves here in the Midwest. It’s always a treat to spend extended periods of time “at home” seeing family and friends, but the biggest thrill for me this trip is that my kids get to go to outdoor day camp. There is something about my little ones experiencing an outside-all-day, muggy, buggy, running-through-the-grass, picnic table, nature walk, arts-and-crafts summer, straight out of my childhood memories, that makes my heart swell.  So it goes without saying that I was the most excited person in the car when we headed to camp on that first morning.

When we arrived, the camp director greeted us in such a warm and welcoming fashion that my kids instantly felt at home.  I have to say, I was pretty surprised to see how both my 3 and 5 year-olds were ready to jump right in with new kids at a new camp in a new town…they seemed confident and curious, and I couldn’t have been more proud.

A quick, easy good-bye to my 3 year-old, and the director walked my other daughter and me over to the 5 year-olds’ meeting spot. I’m not going to say that I didn’t notice that she was the first girl to arrive, because I did. But I was hopeful that this would be a non-issue, and she would slip right into the routine as smoothly as her little sister.  However, instead of introducing my daughter to some new friends (boys), the director assured her that more girls would be coming soon. The message that got communicated here was “kids more like you will be coming soon for you to be friends with, but these folks sitting right here are not them…so just hang tight.”  And while I’m certain this was not the intention, the expectation was set that the boys and girls would not want to engage with one another (nor be expected to), and a great opportunity was missed for calling on similarities, creating common ground and celebrating uniqueness. The director could have just as easily said, “Hey everyone! This is Annie. She’s from Arizona. Has anyone ever been there?” Or, “Annie, this is Trevor. He has a little sister in your sister’s group.”

Of course the director was only trying to make my daughter feel at ease. I know I’ve made similar assumptions about who kids would most likely feel comfortable with in new situations. But is this type of guidance helpful or harmful? If Annie felt confident joining the group of boys when we walked over, this introduction probably caused her to feel otherwise. It seems like some attempts to help kids feel more comfortable may only prove to make them feel more uncomfortable. And at the end of the day, assumptions and expectations that limit friendships limit kids and rob them of opportunities for diverse experiences from which they can learn and grow.