Gender-neutral Environment: Like YOU Have a CHOICE? Aug 28 '01    Write an essay on this topic. Tweet The Bottom Line No matter what you do to your environment, your child's true nature and personality will emerge. When it does, don't be surprised if it's very different from yours. When I was eight months pregnant, which was 15 years ago today, practically everyone I know predicted that I would have a baby girl. I had already been given a couple of baby showers, and quite a few of my friends felt confident about buying my baby-to-be ruffled pink things. "We can't imagine you having a boy!" my friends and family said. Frankly, I couldn't really imagine myself having a boy, either. Except for my younger sister's son, who was almost four years old at the time, I had never been around a boy in my entire life. I have three sisters, and only one first cousin -- also a girl. And I was a sissy-girl myself. Nothing made me happier than a petticoat (if it didn't itch) and lots of flounces and bows. As a toddler, I'd steal Mom's high heels and clomp around the house in them. Anything with lace or ruffles attracted me, even if I didn't know how to use it. After 40 years, my father still has a good belly laugh about the day he came down the street and spotted me, at about age 3 or 4, prancing down the icy street in Mom's heels, a half-slip slung over my shoulders like a cape, and her Merry Widow corset perched on my head like a crown. "I was laughing so hard I nearly slammed into the neighbor's tree," Dad says. But that's just the kind of little girl I was, enamored of anything feminine and sparkly. I'm still that way! Bets are Placed, Everyone Wins! And yet the day my baby daughter was born, so big and substantial at nearly 10 pounds, and yet so dainty with long, fine fingers that she fluttered about her fat pink cheeks -- I knew she was going to be her own person, and that I wasn't going to have a whole lot to do with it. Her large birthweight meant that she never even got to wear some of the frilly dresses my friends had bought her. Even some of the "Onesies" underwear sets I had at home would have to be returned for a larger size. She didn't stay "big" and turned out to be quite petite and slender, but the "big attitude" stuck with her. And not only that, I wanted my baby girl to be comfortable. She wore mostly pink appliqued fleece sets with beautiful embroidery that wouldn't rub on her face. I wanted her to be surrounded in softness and be warm. The frilly dresses were saved for a few special occasions and for photographs. I longed to buy her Madame Alexander dolls, but she favored cuddly stuffed animals, interactive toys and action figures or police sets. "Buddy, That Doesn't Mean You're the Boss..." My first instincts about my daughter proved to be correct. By the time she was three years old, she wanted nothing to do with dresses. She would wear funky leggings in bright colors and anything with bright buttons, appliques or trim, but never dresses. Anything she didn't like was "itchy" and she'd simply take it off! One of my sisters had a son a year after my daughter was born, and they've been the best of pals and playmates since they were old enough to enjoy playing together at ages 2 and 3. I knew my girl was independent and bossy, but overhearing a conversation about genitals one day proved to be a harbinger of things to come. My nephew was about three at the time, and like almost all boys, he was fascinated and pleased by the realization that he has a penis. His mother hadn't explained much more about that part except to tell him what it was called and how it related to potty training. My daughter was only about four, and she hadn't been told a whole lot about that body part, either, or it's formal name. After all, it didn't apply to her. While playing some game or watching cartoons, I heard my nephew announce (in a very pleased voice) "I have a penis in my big boy pants!" as if he'd just re-discovered it. "That doesn't make you the boss," my daughter replied instantly, not even skipping a beat. I had to duck around the corner so they wouldn't see my giggling hysterically. He could have been saying "I have a Dick Tracy hat in my backpack" in the same pleased tone, and she would have given him the same answer. It was his obvious pride and slight superior tone that spurred her reaction. My Teenager Knows Who She Is and What She Wants to Be Now that she's almost 15, I see that my daughter is a young woman, strong but very feminine and competitive, who knows how to set goals and reach them. She didn't get that from her artistic, frilly mother. Yes, of course I set goals for myself, which always means doing something I don't like to do because it needs to be done. For my daughter, it's all part of the process. She dresses in pants, sandals and t-shirts for function more than fashion, and yet she's very proud of her long, beautiful blonde hair. She's still very "girly" in the way she flutters her fingers and cares for her birds, and her maternal side is especially strong for all living things. My G.I. Jane is a Superior Let I Cadet! Last year when she started high school, it was mandatory in our school system that she take either music (easily my first choice in the same position), gym or Army ROTC. "I think I'll get lots more out of ROTC, Mom," she said. "You learn map reading, marksmanship and you can get scholarships. I can't see getting that much out of music or gym." This didn't come as a surprise. The only surprise to me is that I gave birth to someone whose perferences are so vastly different from mine. "How did someone who wears high heels in blizzards get a daughter like this?" I thought, laughing at the irony of the situation. And yet I'm so very proud to have a girl who is certainly all girl, but also a person to be reckoned with on every level. I supported her desire to be active in her ROTC class, driving her to endless color guards, drill downs, and activities that I don't even know enough about to describe. But at the end of the school year when her school ROTC presented dozens of awards, she got the big prize: Superior Let I Cadet, which included citizenship, superior academic ranking, participation and other leadership criteria. We knew she would receive a major award, but we didn't expect her to get the top one for her class. She looked so sharp and sassy in her fitted uniform, ribbons on her chest, colorful cords dangling from each shoulder, her glorious hair pulled back (by me) in a shiny, neat bun at the back of her neck. This was my baby! That baby that I knew, somehow from Day 1, was not going to be a ruffles type. No matter what gender of child you have, I can promise you that if you're supportive, he or she will wind up being exactly what you always wanted -- even if you didn't know it.

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