Teaching My Son the 'F' Word

It may surprise the friends who know me just how often the “F” word crosses my mind. I am, after all, a small town Alabama girl. Practically raised in the church. I even went to etiquette school to learn the rules of high tea. Pinky up, ladies! (Thanks, mom).

Well, nobody’s perfect. And that nasty little word rears its head in my mind on a regular basis.

I thought about it yesterday when I saw a five-year-old boy fall in the Target toy aisle. He burst into tears, his lip puffy and bleeding. Daddy grabbed him by the shoulders, gently shook him and barked, “Quit that crying, boy. You gotta toughen up.”

It crossed my mind as a daycare worker, when a co-teacher redirected a two-year-old girl who was giddily playing with a dump truck.

“Trucks are for boys,” she said. And yep, I thought the F word.

If you haven’t guessed it already, I’m talking about…about…ACK!

I’m talking about feminism.

I admit, when saying it out loud I kinda sound like a cat on a hair ball. I can’t help it. For many years, this word has harkened to mind the image of an angry woman with hairy armpits and a bad haircut. But recently, I’ve been realizing just how antiquated that notion is. And really, just how ridiculous. The ‘f’ word is alive and well, and I’m ready to add it to my family’s vocabulary.

Dog-gy. Dad-dy. Ba-Ba. Fem-i-nism?

Okay, maybe the word itself is a bit advanced. But the concept is simple; in fact, it’s the Golden Rule. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Add “no exceptions” and you, my friend, have the definition of feminism. Doesn’t sound so bad, does it? So why are fighting such an uphill battle?

Because: Parents.

This battle is fought in our backyards when we comfort crying little girls and tell their male counterparts to toughen up.

It is fought at the preschool, when we take the Tonka truck away from Sarah—only to give it to Jackson.

We fight it on middle school football teams when coaches chastise an emotional boy after a tough loss.

And, as Emma Watson frequently experienced, it happens when assertive little girls are called “bossy”.

All of this comes to fruition in an adult society where women get paid 88 cents per dollar performing the same job as a man. A society in which oftentimes the role of a father has been diminished to that of a breathing paycheck.

So, yes, my son will learn about feminism. And his education is starting now, as he rounds the bend of his first birthday. I will teach him that it’s okay to feel. That there is strength in tears. He will learn to treat women with respect—not because they are weak – but because they are worthy. And he will learn that just because mom is the boss, doesn’t mean she’s bossy.

My child is young, but the ‘f’ word will be alive and well in this home. Because this world should be a fair place for everyone – and it’s not. But as parents, we can make it so.

Mary Katherine and her son Nugget reside at MomBabble.com. There you can find the dreams, recipes, and musings of a Southern mom. Not a perfect mom. Not a crafty mom. Just a normal, messy, slightly opinionated mama who is obsessed with coffee and front porch swings. Y’all should be friends on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.