CCBC-Net Archives
Perspectives on Gender
- Contemporary messages sorted: [ by date ] [ by subject ] [ by author ]
From: Thom Barthelmess <tbarthelmess>
Date: Thu, 21 Jul 2005 11:27:36 -0700
I see our current gender topic in two parts. In a general way, we're talking about how society's expectations and understandings of gender are reflected in books for young people. Megan wrote about her reaction to the perennial pink princess books. While I certainly understand and sympathize with concerns about the perpetuation of gender stereotypes, it helps me to remember that books are only half of the books + kids equation. In my experience, kids are a creative and imaginative lot, and can often see outside and beyond what to us (adults) seems straightforward and prescriptive. When a pink princess library book goes home with a five year old boy and inspires his Halloween costume (it's been known to happen...) all of a sudden we have a very different gender reflection. I don't feel that we need to "protect" kids from exposure to traditional gender roles. They start out looking at things with open eyes. What we do need, I believe, are open-minded explorations of gender identification in books for kids, to encourage their natural inclusiveness. This brings me to part two.
In addition to looking at ways in which gender roles are reflected, generally, in children's literature, this month's topic also covers, more specifically, books that take gender identification as a central theme. As far back as Munro Leaf's THE STORY OF FERDINAND (and certainly farther - I'll leave that to the historians) we've seen books that challenge conventional ideas about how males and females ought to behave. Some of my favorites explore the theme in especially original ways. Here are a few of them:
Many books center on a main character who feels conflicted about assuming a conventional gender role. I love Jerry Spinelli's CRASH because just the opposite is true. "Crash" Coogan is particularly adept at being the virile jock that everyone expects him to be. His conflict comes from the fallout his behavior has on his bumpy, burgeoning friendship with not-so-manly Penn Webb. Interesting and affecting.
Karen Cushman's THE BALLAD OF LUCY WHIPPLE takes the archetypal
"frontier tomboy" story and turns it on its head. Lucy has trouble adapting when her family moves from civilized Massachusetts to the wilds of gold-boom California. She balks at her mother's pressure to embrace the rough-and-tumble west, preferring the more traditionally female trappings of keeping her shoes clean and baking pies.
A particular favorite of mine is FEATHER BOY by Nicky Singer. Here, the gender conflict doesn't exist in the book as much as it exists between the book and its audience. This is a remarkable story of a quiet, pensive, fearful boy struggling to manage an almost crippling sensitivity in an aggressive, insensitive world. I love this book for its gorgeous narrative, its blurry distinctions between what's real and what's imagined, and its honest, unapologetic portrayal of a tender boy.
I don't think it makes sense to expect every book to successfully address every issue. As a librarian, I'm much more concerned about building collections that, as a whole, reflect the broad and complex plurality of the human condition, and make it accessible to kids feeling their way through it. And I'm pleased to see, from my perspective, an increasing number of books that do those very things.
Thom Barthelmess
Received on Thu 21 Jul 2005 01:27:36 PM CDT
Date: Thu, 21 Jul 2005 11:27:36 -0700
I see our current gender topic in two parts. In a general way, we're talking about how society's expectations and understandings of gender are reflected in books for young people. Megan wrote about her reaction to the perennial pink princess books. While I certainly understand and sympathize with concerns about the perpetuation of gender stereotypes, it helps me to remember that books are only half of the books + kids equation. In my experience, kids are a creative and imaginative lot, and can often see outside and beyond what to us (adults) seems straightforward and prescriptive. When a pink princess library book goes home with a five year old boy and inspires his Halloween costume (it's been known to happen...) all of a sudden we have a very different gender reflection. I don't feel that we need to "protect" kids from exposure to traditional gender roles. They start out looking at things with open eyes. What we do need, I believe, are open-minded explorations of gender identification in books for kids, to encourage their natural inclusiveness. This brings me to part two.
In addition to looking at ways in which gender roles are reflected, generally, in children's literature, this month's topic also covers, more specifically, books that take gender identification as a central theme. As far back as Munro Leaf's THE STORY OF FERDINAND (and certainly farther - I'll leave that to the historians) we've seen books that challenge conventional ideas about how males and females ought to behave. Some of my favorites explore the theme in especially original ways. Here are a few of them:
Many books center on a main character who feels conflicted about assuming a conventional gender role. I love Jerry Spinelli's CRASH because just the opposite is true. "Crash" Coogan is particularly adept at being the virile jock that everyone expects him to be. His conflict comes from the fallout his behavior has on his bumpy, burgeoning friendship with not-so-manly Penn Webb. Interesting and affecting.
Karen Cushman's THE BALLAD OF LUCY WHIPPLE takes the archetypal
"frontier tomboy" story and turns it on its head. Lucy has trouble adapting when her family moves from civilized Massachusetts to the wilds of gold-boom California. She balks at her mother's pressure to embrace the rough-and-tumble west, preferring the more traditionally female trappings of keeping her shoes clean and baking pies.
A particular favorite of mine is FEATHER BOY by Nicky Singer. Here, the gender conflict doesn't exist in the book as much as it exists between the book and its audience. This is a remarkable story of a quiet, pensive, fearful boy struggling to manage an almost crippling sensitivity in an aggressive, insensitive world. I love this book for its gorgeous narrative, its blurry distinctions between what's real and what's imagined, and its honest, unapologetic portrayal of a tender boy.
I don't think it makes sense to expect every book to successfully address every issue. As a librarian, I'm much more concerned about building collections that, as a whole, reflect the broad and complex plurality of the human condition, and make it accessible to kids feeling their way through it. And I'm pleased to see, from my perspective, an increasing number of books that do those very things.
Thom Barthelmess
Received on Thu 21 Jul 2005 01:27:36 PM CDT