Saturday, 12 October 2013

Boys like pink...and other such things

When my little baby boy was born I was shocked. I'd always wanted a girl, because boys were...well..boys! I didn't know what to do with one. I'd never had a brother, no nephews, nothing to prepare me for a little boy. Slowly though it dawned on me that I had been blessed. Not because I had birthed a boy, which frankly in India makes you as goddess-like as can be, but because I had been given the opportunity to raise a boy. Raise him the way boys in most cultures over the world aren't raised. To be sensitive, to respect themselves and women, to grow into men and not just little boys in big bodies. To make responsible choices and be accountable for themselves.

I didn't realize it was going to be a walk through a mine-field. You never quite see the prejudices of those around you till the need arises. I wanted to teach my son it's ok to cry, to talk through his anger and sadness, to use words and hugs. I wanted to let him make his own decisions, without biases. If he wanted to wear his Nani's bindi or sister's hairclips, I wasn't going to say no. So he did. The first few times everyone thought he was adorable. Then one day he wanted to go to the park in his sisters clothes. The guy who's worked with us for over a decade was stunned. "sab ulti cheez sikha rahe ho aap isko". He let it pass.

One morning he got ready for school. Wearing his sister's cycling shorts under her teeny-tiny denim shorts and a pink t-shirt with sparkles on it. My mother flipped a lid. It was fine till it was restricted to the house or the neighborhood park but how could I send him to school like that? Why not? She spluttered and stuttered, "Because he's a boy!" So can't boys wear pink t-shirts or cycling shorts? What's the big deal if he goes for a haircut and wants nail polish put as a reward?

It's his body and his choices. If he loves pink, great. My job is to make him strong enough to handle the tons of ridicule that will come his way for choices he makes throughout his life. Do I want him to stop putting hair clips? No. My moment of happiness will be when he can put a hair clip, face the mockery and come away from it without his self-esteem taking a battering. I don't care how he dresses, if he's gay or straight, if he becomes an engineer or a mountaineer. I want him to know himself and have the strength to stand up for his beliefs.

Because boys should be allowed to be kids. They don't need to man up and not cry or wear dull colors. Because boys like pink. And nail polish. And bindis. And hair clips. Who wouldn't?

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