I would like to borrow her idea and apply it to boys, specifically as it pertains to the word tough. I have written before about the frequent appearance of this word on boys’ t-shirts, but an incident at a little league baseball game got me thinking about the word again.

At the game, the first of the season, there was a scramble for the ball. In the ensuing scrum, a boy was hurt. He began crying. The coach told him that he’d be fine because he’s “a tough little guy” then gave him an approving pat on the back when he decided to stay in the game. The boy was five years old.

The coach spoke kindly to the boy and did not sound as though he were trying to shame him, but still, that word in that context has broad implications: no time for tears, pull yourself together, suck it up and get back in the game. Would the same expression have been used for a kindergarten-aged girl? Hard to say, but I doubt it.

I heard the statement from across the diamond so I know that most other boys at the game would have heard it too (if they were listening, which is never a guarantee with children of this age).

What is the message for that boy and any others who heard the coach? Crying is not “tough” and, therefore, not something boys should do.

Boys are inundated with messages telling them that they must appear tough at all times and that crying—whether from being hurt, scared, or tired—is not an acceptable reaction for a boy. Hearing it from a little league coach is bound to have an impact on a young boy.

What could the coach have done differently? Perhaps he could have asked the boy whether he was hurt or scared by the massive pile-on of eight little bodies in pursuit of a ball. A little sympathy would probably have been of great comfort to the boy. Maybe he could have asked if the boy wanted a break from the game instead of implying that he should tough it out and get right back in there. Instead he (unwittingly  I’m sure) delivered a message about how wrong the boy’s reaction was.

Tough is just one word, but what a weight it carries. I urge all adults, little league coaches or not, to think twice about its deeper meaning when talking to boys.

Here is a cross-post of a piece I wrote for the Halton Women’s Centre. It was originally posted on their site Friday May 11, 2012. 

“Super, serious, big-time trouble.” So said a t-shirt I saw once in the boys’ department of a major retailer of children’s apparel, alongside other shirts describing boys as mischievous monsters, little devils, tough guys, and video game addicts who hate school.

That is the message our culture sends about boys and I believed it for a long time. Having had no brothers to give me a different perspective, I thought that boys were inherently difficult—perpetual motion machines with destructive tendencies and a disdain for authority.

So entrenched is this stereotype that when I was expecting my first child I found myself declaring that I absolutely, categorically did not want a boy.

But I had one boy, and then another, and I could not be happier. The stereotypes I once had disappeared when my first son was born. What I saw in him, and later in his brother, was not a future troublemaker, but a beautiful little person full of potential and promise.

Through my efforts to guide my sons through a world that equates masculinity with toughness and stoicism, I have learned a great deal about helping children become the people they are meant to be. Among the most important lessons: we cannot make generalizations about boys (or girls) based on gender, nor should we try to force them to conform to society’s ideas of what they “should” be. Rather, we should: recognize and welcome the individuality in each of them; introduce them to a world of experiences that enable them to grow and learn about who they are and what they want from life; and encourage them to follow their hearts, pursue the things that interest them, and stay true to themselves, even if that means venturing beyond socially prescribed notions about what is appropriate for their gender.

When given the freedom to try new things and decide what they like, children will flourish. They will find infinite unique ways to express their individuality. They will grow up with a strong sense of self and the confidence they need to make their own decisions and form their own opinions. Most importantly—whether they conform to typical notions about their gender or defy all expectations and conventional wisdom about what they “should” be—they will be happy. And that is all that parents could ever want for their child.

Here is their response, which I received by email on May 5, 2o12 but did not get time to post until today:

Hello Crystal,

Thank you for taking the time to write to Zellers.  We appreciate hearing the comments of our shoppers for ways to improve the shopping experiences in our stores.

I am sorry to hear about your disappointment with some of the T-shirts in our children’s clothing department, and have viewed the images on your blog for reference.  Certainly our intention was not to offend, but rather the messages be interpreted with lightheartedness and fun.  I understand your concerns and do apologize that the T-shirts caused offense.

We take the concerns of our customers very seriously, and customer feedback helps shape our decision-making process when looking at products for our stores. I will ensure your correspondence is shared with the appropriate teams.

Again, thank you for providing us with your feedback. Your business is important to us and we hope to continue to earn your patronage.

I hope the issues I raised will indeed be shared with the higher-ups at the company, but I have my doubts. The fact that the writer did not address the corporate responsibility statement concerns me as does the fact that Zellers will soon be taken over by Target, meaning that issues like this may get lost in the shuffle. I have written to the writer to let her know I am looking forward to more feedback from the company. Here is my letter:

Thanks so much for your response. I appreciate you taking the time to get back to me.

I hope that my post will help your company realize that such imagery is not actually funny. It is highly, highly inappropriate for girls to be referred to as “chicks” in any product. For an example of why, I’ll direct you to this site for an upcoming book called Field Guide to Chicks of the United States  http://bit.ly/Kjqip4 and its FAQ page http://bit.ly/Jc4dLB. These attitudes start young and “normalizing” them by introducing them in children’s products is unacceptable.    

And the stereotyped images of males (stupid dad, “tough” guy) are part of a continuum of negative messages that boys receive about their own gender from all areas of popular culture.

I am hopeful that the person to whom you sent my blog post will address the apparent conflict between your company’s corporate responsibility statement and these products.

Thanks again for your time and attention to this issue.

I’ll keep everyone posted if and when I receive a response.

Indeed it is. And this system cannot be overcome by ignoring male stereotypes and “acculturated boyness,”[i] which is what happens more often than not in discussions of patriarchy and the fight for gender equality. It is important to acknowledge the impact of patriarchy on boys and men, as Ms. Judd does when she says that males “are equally objectified and ridiculed, according to heteronormative definitions of masculinity that deny the full and dynamic range of their personhood.”

Patriarchy is learned, of course. Boys are not born sexist. If they become sexist, it is because of the popular and family culture in which they are raised.

It’s true that popular culture is largely created by men who run entertainment conglomerates and toy companies, but the attitudes of these men have been shaped by the same forces that affect boys now.

Hal Jordan from the new Green Lantern series. Image from www.cartoonnetwork.com.

Our culture teaches boys that physical strength and dominance are the most valuable traits a man can possess. Just look at the average animated superhero, like Hal Jordan here, or listen to the language used in a typical sports broadcast, where athletes are valued for being “tough” as much as for having any skill. In cartoons targeted to boys, action is often delivered in the form of violence, reinforcing the link between male heroism and physical dominance.

At the same time, children’s pop culture trades on stereotypes of both sexes and often relegates female characters (if they are present) to small, supporting roles. Rarely are female characters protagonists or heroes.  Those females who are considered heroes, like Wonder Woman, are never the star of a program. They are part of a team, not leaders or solo heroes, and they tend to be highly sexualized. In short, kids’ pop culture reinforces many aspects of patriarchy–men are shown as dominant and women, when present, are diminished and devalued.

Even children who watch little television or film are not immune to the influence of popular culture. Its tentacles extend beyond television and cinema to book shelves, toy stores, and clothes. It is then shared through conversation with peers. To wit, a 5-year-old girl who visited our home last week told me that she couldn’t believe my son “plays with girl toys.”

Children learn some of their most important gender lessons in the home and from family members, but our culture can influence parents’ and caregivers’ attitudes as well.  Here are some examples from my experience.  I once read a parenting “advice” column that referred to boys who cry “too much” as “wimps.” I was recently party to a conversation about a young boy who wasn’t interested in sounding out the words in his introductory reading book. A well-educated parent who calls herself a feminist chalked this up to “boy laziness” and noted that boys typically cannot sit still long enough to read. And I was once told by a father when an older boy was swatting and shoving a younger boy on his baseball team that it was “the law of the playground.” In other words, this boy was not misbehaving or being a problem, he was just being a boy.

How can we combat patriarchy if we don’t address male stereotypes like those described above and invite boys and men to become part of the solution?

Instead of disregarding the male gender stereotypes that surround boys from birth onward, we should be examining the culture we live in and the messages it sends to children of both sexes.  We should be proactive in educating boys about gender bias, just as many of us are with girls.

Like girls, boys need lessons in media literacy and positive examples of males and females in their entertainment and literature.  And they need to be taught to value people for who they are, not for their ability to conform to preconceived (and archaic) notions of what boys, girls, men, and women should be.

[i] Landsberg, Michele. “Cultivating the Human in the Boy.” Canadian Perspectives on Men &Masculinities. (Don Mills: Oxford University Press Canada, 2012.) 2-11.

Picture Books

The Salamander Room by Anne Mazar - A tale of a boy with a vivid imagination, The Salamander Room by Anne Mazer tells the story of a boy who brings home a salamander and dreams of transforming his room into a suitable environment for his new friend. The protagonist is very thoughtful and caring, and an excellent role model for boys.

Curious George Plants a Tree by H.A. Rey–George gets himself into trouble by being a little overzealous in his attempts to recycle. A fun story with an environmental theme.

The Snail and the Whale by Julia Donaldson–The adventurous (and female) snail in this story explores the natural world on the tail of a whale. The environmental angle comes about when the whale loses his bearings because of excessive human noise in the water from jet-skis and motorboats. A group of school kids work with the local townspeople to free the whale.

Don’t Throw That Away by Lara Bergen–A lift-the-flap book featuring a female recycling “hero.”

Two Little Gardeners by Margaret Wise Brown–A little boy and girl carefully tend to their garden. The book hearkens back to a simpler time as the children plant seeds, weed by hand, build a scarecrow and “raba-mole” to scare away pests, and then harvest and preserve all the delicious food from their garden. One of our all-time favourites.

A Tree is Nice by Marc Simont–Using images of boys and girls, this book  shows how enjoyable trees are. It ends with a nice sequence on the joys of planting a tree and watching it grow.

Little Farm by the Sea by Kay Chorao–Not about the environment specifically, but it certainly helps kids understand why it is important to support local food producers. It is a lovely story of a family farm throughout the seasons. Sadly, it is out of print and only available used, but it is worth seeking out either from a used books vendor or the library.

See Inside Recycling and Rubbish by Alex Frith–For anyone who likes recycling, this book has it all. Through very intricate pictures and lots of flaps to lift, it shows everything from the collection of various recyclables to sorting and processing. Rubbish facts at the end tell kids how important it is to reduce waste.

Brady Brady and the Cleanup Hitters by Mary Shaw and Chuck Temple–Part of the Brady Brady series, this book tells the story of a boy who sees a problem (litter all over his school’s baseball diamond) and decides to do something about it. Along the way, he motivates his friends to help clean up the entire schoolyard. (May only be available used.)

The Lorax by Dr. Seuss–The classic tale of the dangers of over-consumption of natural resources.

For Older Readers

Noah Zarc: Mammoth Trouble by D. Robert Pease–For mature readers, this story shows a future after Earth has been destroyed through human negligence. It is not all doom and gloom though. The protagonist and his family time travel back to Earth before the “Cataclysm” and rescue animals, bringing them back to the future where they can live happily in specially designed biospheres.

Canada Recycles by Peter Cook and Laura Suzuki–Detailed discussion of the hows and whys of recycling. Published in 2012, it is up to date with technology.

National Geographic Kids’ Almanac–This book covers a wide range of subjects pertaining to nature, the environment, culture, and history. One of the biggest sections in the 2012 Canadian edition is “Amazing Animals,” which talks about pets, insects, big cats, sea creatures, dinosaurs, and animals in peril. A section on Going Green covers subjects like green technologies, pollution, and global warming. A 2013 edition comes out in May, 2012.

“Why can’t as a collective people we admit that so much of the way we see the natural attributes given to boys and girls is directly a consequence of the messages that society sends?”

That question comes from a post written on the More Compassion blog, in which the author discusses the assumption that boys are “naturally” wild and rambunctious. I posted a link to this blog on my Facebook page and it received a lot of positive feedback. It seems many people support the author’s critique of the hoary old argument that “boys will be boys” (read: loud and out of control, especially in comparison to girls who, equally stereotyped, are believed to be “naturally” quieter and more deferential.)

The widely held notion that “boys will be boys” is problematic for a few fairly obvious reasons: it perpetuates stereotypes of boys and men as aggressive and rebellious; it excuses boys for rowdy or generally bad behaviour—a freedom not granted to girls who are expected to behave perfectly all the time; and it calls into question the masculinity of “good” boys. It is the last point that I will address in this post, particularly as it pertains to the school environment.

I confess that there is a personal angle here. One of my sons is gifted and the other is very nearly so. Both are excellent students. Given all that I have read about male stereotypes and their manifestation among children, I am concerned about how my sons will be treated as they progress through school, and for good reason.

Children’s popular culture glorifies bratty boys who treat school with disdain while insinuating that smart, well-behaved boys are geeky or girly. As many researchers have pointed out, these pop culture lessons transfer to reality. In Real Boys, William Pollack describes a “boy code” that compels boys to prove their masculinity by acting tough and macho, engaging in risky or daring behaviour, and striving for dominance and power. The boy code also dictates that boys should avoid all “sissy stuff”[i] which, presumably, includes sitting still and listening in school.

Then there is Ellen Jordan’s “warrior discourse” which I cited in this passage in my book:

“…’the warrior discourse’ (which comes from the mass media) is the source of most boys’ understanding of masculinity. This discourse offers two extremes of masculinity. In the first position are the warriors, heroes, or leaders. The warriors’ masculinity is unquestioned and framed by the less manly behaviour of the subordinate group—the wimps and nerds.

Because they do not fit the warrior ideal, the weaker boys create their own version of masculinity, defining the term as “not female.” Using this alternative definition of masculinity enables them to “redress insecurities and ambivalences about their ability to be male.” In other words, the less traditionally masculine boys prove their manhood by ensuring that they never act like girls.”[ii]

Again we can assume that behaving nicely is among the “girly” actions that some boys try to avoid.

Wanting to know whether my fears for my sons were founded, I did a bit of research into how smart, studious boys fare at school.

Researchers are just beginning to examine the rates of bullying among gifted and high-achieving students specifically. Although there are few studies and they use very small sample sizes, it seems that bullying and victimization rates may not be any higher for gifted and high-achieving students than they are for other students.[iii]

It is comforting to know that high intelligence might not necessarily cause a smart child to be bullied, but this study does not take into account the fears that boys may have of becoming a target, and the adaptations they undertake to avoid being picked on because they are smart.

One adaptation is underachievement. Barbara Kerr, author of Smart Boys: Talent, Manhood, and the Search for Meaning stated in a keynote address delivered at the College of William and Mary that extreme underachievers in school are 90% male. And not all of these boys are underachieving because they are incapable. As Ms. Kerr also noted, “[a]lthough there are many causes for underachievement…there is ample evidence that one of them is male social coping with gender identity expectations. In contexts in which achievement is associated with nerdhood and weakness, underachievement becomes a way of asserting independence, strength, and masculinity.”[iv]

Rebellious behaviour or “mucking around in class” is another option for boys who want to hide their smarts or appear like they don’t care about school. To look “cool” some boys will disrupt class and harass or ridicule boys who do well in school.[v] (This type of behaviour is reflected in pop culture in the many t-shirts marketed to young boys that promote an anti-school attitude and in the antics of characters like the protagonists in the Captain Underpants series of books.)

Athletics are another refuge for smart boys, if they are lucky. As Kerr said in her keynote speech, “Gifted boys learn very early that if they are smart, they had better be smart and athletic; athletic ability makes intelligence acceptable.” And a study cited in The Independent noted that high-achieving boys can maintain popularity if they are good at sports.[vi] As for brainy boys who aren’t athletic, it appears they have the deck stacked against them.

So this is what the boy code hath wrought: boys who are afraid to show they are smart lest they be considered “geeky,” or worse, “girly,” for following the rules and doing well in school.

Michele Landsberg wrote in the book Canadian Perspectives on Men & Masculinities that studious and intelligent boys are at risk of being cast out “to the outer realms of frozen darkness” as they enter higher grades at school.[vii] Her statement may sound extreme, but the research I read seems to concur. Boys who don’t want to be ostracized develop coping mechanisms like those described above. According to Kerr, these adaptations can begin as early as the third grade and continue into high school, allowing boys to maintain their “gender identity at the expense of [their] future goals,” with some even allowing themselves to fail at school to prove their masculinity. The effects can also be felt at the postsecondary level. Kerr notes that many gifted men with a passion for arts, humanities, or literature abandon those interests in university, choosing instead to major in the more “lucrative—or perhaps manly”—fields of engineering, medicine, law, and business.

This situation shows the incredible damage caused by the macho imperative that surrounds boys from birth onward. And it needs to change.

Instead of being inculcated into some antiquated boy code, boys need to be taught to value themselves for who they are. They need to take pride in their intelligence and scholastic achievements without feeling that their manhood is compromised by every A+ they earn. It’s a tough message to get across in a North American society where “a spirit of anti-intellectualism” is “rampant,”[viii] but it’s one that must be communicated to boys.

We can start with the language we use in reference to boys. Instead of the vocabulary of the boy code, we need to include in our description of boys the positive attributes typically associated with females—things like creativity, sensitivity, affection, and compassion. To start this rethink of how we view boys, I created a word cloud for my Facebook timeline that has been shared widely:

Presenting boys with a diverse range of role models can also help alter their view of what they can be. Beyond sports stars, we should introduce boys to men who have excelled by using their minds and following their creative impulses, like the few I included in this brief video: http://bit.ly/Hznsyg

Small steps, yes, but important ones that will help free boys from the iron grip of the boy code.

My first reaction to these toys was that they are very limiting to girls, and I still believe that. But what about boys? Could the toys that narrow girls’ opinions of themselves actually broaden a boy’s world view? Toy sets in this line include a nearly non-gender specific lab, tree house, and restaurant. The play scenarios are led by females. And there is nothing like them in other LEGO product lines. My son can completely relate to these toys, so I found myself asking: are the toys really that terrible or is it just the marketing that surrounds them?

The conundrum of these toys hit me again on March Break. Both of my sons had received gift cards that I had kept tucked away for a rainy day. I decided a weeklong school break was the perfect time for something new to amuse them. Turns out the store from which the gift cards were issued had LEGO on sale. Before we set out for the store, my older son decided on a Harry Potter Hogwarts LEGO set. My younger one chose the LEGO City Park Café, part of the LEGO Friends line.

I cringed at the thought of contributing to LEGO’s profits for this new line of toys, with its highly stereotyped marketing and horrible, hyper-feminine minifigures. But I also worried over what kind of message I would send to my son if I denied him the toy. He didn’t bat an eyelash at the fact that the characters sold with this toy were female. He was completely comfortable with the idea of female-driven play. I thought, why alter his opinion or imply that playing with this toy would be wrong for him?

So we bought the toy and, truth be told, it’s pretty cool, save for the minifigures (Also known as “ladyfigs.” More on them in a minute.)

I’d heard that the LEGO Friends toys had been dumbed down, but this set offered a decent level of complexity for a 5-year-old. He built it mostly alone, but needed occasional help.

For a boy who loves playing “restaurant,” this set is great. It has a small kitchen, a cash register and oven that open, a soda fountain, and an outdoor seating area. This last feature came in handy when the kids from Hogwarts decided to pop over for a bite to eat.

After the Harry Potter characters joined in, it wasn’t much of a leap for my son to incorporate LEGO minifigures from other sets as cleaning staff and other customers. Then he built boxes out of random LEGO bricks to store the tiny pieces from the restaurant. All in all the café was a great choice for him, and it was mostly compatible with other LEGO, save for those damn “ladyfigs.”

As I said, my younger son has no problem playing with these characters. He even referred to them as the “bosses” of the restaurant, which is a good thing. But as I watched him play, I kept wondering why they had to be different at all. Why can’t LEGO be LEGO, completely interchangeable, one set with another?

My older son, the LEGO connoisseur of the family, said he liked the City Park Café “minus the people.” When I asked why, he said that they don’t fit with the other minifigures. Apparently part of the appeal of LEGO minifigures is “customizing” them by exchanging parts among them. You can’t do that with the LEGO Friends figures. Their hair is removable and fits on traditional minifigs, but nothing else does. (You can’t even move the legs on the LEGO Friends minifigs, so they are always just standing still, unlike the traditional minifig who can be made to look like he/she is in motion.) He also noted that the characters look “out of proportion.” He said they were too big, and made it look like a 10-year-old (the ladyfig) was bigger than an adult (the traditional minifig).

And why so overtly and stereotypically feminine, with breasts, miniskirts, long hair and makeup? Or, in my older son’s words, why so “girly” and “stereotypic”?

Again he elaborated. We were by this time looking online at Olivia’s Invention Workshop—essentially a lab. He pointed out that Olivia was wearing flip-flops in a lab, which he deemed to be unsafe. He made note of her sleeveless top and short pants, accented with hearts and butterflies (hence the word “girly.”) He felt that this clothing was also inappropriate for a lab. I hadn’t even thought of that. It’s a good question–why isn’t Olivia wearing a lab coat or at least long sleeves and some running shoes? Other minifigs have their appearance altered to suit their roles, why not the LEGO Friends?

Although a little off-topic, I should also share his thoughts on the chalkboard in the lab, shown at right, which has details I hadn’t noticed. Among the mathematical formulas are some pink flowers and a stick figure with a pink heart beside it. My son said these features say that Olivia is “kind of crazy.” He didn’t mean it in a bad way, just that the inclusion of this fluffy stuff with the science is a bit strange.

I guess that sums up my feelings about the LEGO Friends line. It is strange and perplexing. Many of these toys, including the City Park Café, have lots of creative play potential for boys and girls. So why include these odd characters who fit with nothing else in the LEGO universe and serve only to stereotype girls and further entrench the division between boys’ and girls’ toys?

Why LEGO? Why?

*All pictures from www.lego.com.

I’m not talking about the fluffy yellow birds that are seen everywhere in the run-up to Easter. I mean the “slang, often offensive”[i] term for a young woman.

I’m asking this question because I saw the word on a t-shirt for boys aged 2 to 6X, pictured at left. The shirt is sold at Canadian retailer Zellers[ii], although an online search showed at least two other shirts with the same message but different image.

I realize that most boys in this age group are not able to read the shirt but they will hear the adults in their lives read it, likely followed by laughter or a comment about how funny or cute the shirt is.

I’d love to know how parents would answer questions from an inquisitive boy about the meaning of the shirt. How exactly would they explain sexism to a preschooler or kindergartner? Or would they even acknowledge that the term is offensive; that it should never be used in reference to a girl? I would guess not. If they buy the shirt and let their son wear it, they are giving tacit approval to the use of such language.

The same retailer sells the following shirts:

I can’t even imagine the hurt and confusion my son would feel if I put him in a shirt that referred to him as a monster. And encouraging the use of the word “chick” by a boy of any age is inconceivable to me, as is the implicit praise for “toughness.”

By purchasing clothing like this, parents are giving their assent to the gender messages on it. Lest anyone think this doesn’t matter, it does. Parents’ opinions on gender are of great importance to their young children. As Susan D. Witt wrote in her paper “Parental Influence on Children’s Socialization to Gender Roles”:

Children internalize parental messages regarding gender at an early age, with awareness of adult sex role differences being found in two-year-old children. One study found that children at two and a half years of age use gender stereotypes in negotiating their world and are likely to generalize gender stereotypes to a variety of activities, objects, and occupations…Children even deny the reality of what they are seeing when it doesn’t conform to their gender expectations (i.e., a child whose mother is a doctor stating that only men are doctors)[iii].

What gender messages are boys internalizing from clothing like this? They are taught to view sentiments like the ones shown here as amusing, but are they really?

Is it funny to introduce derogatory terms for girls to preschoolers and kindergartners, show  with great sarcasm that dads far-from-perfect parents, or emphasize the importance of toughness for boys(note the band-aids on the one shirt, also implying that toughness means “playing hurt”)? Is it also okay to cast boys as troublesome “monsters”?

The most recent Corporate Social Responsibility report from HBC, parent company of Zellers, makes this statement on page 6 (emphasis is mine):

In the community, we are focused on improving the quality of life for women, children and families by working with organizations that cultivate meaningful programs in the areas of nutrition, self esteem, education, mentorship, shelter, recreation and clothing.

I am going to share this post with the people at HBC and ask them how they think clothing like this squares with their corporate responsibility statement. I’ll share their response if and when I receive it.

Image from suzannecollinsbooks.com

There is a lot of buzz about The Hunger Games right now, what with the film version of the book being released this Friday, March 23. The book is aimed at an audience older than what I usually discuss, but, as the section below on age-appropriateness shows, younger kids appear to be interested in the story. I decided to review the book to see why it is so popular and whether it is something that younger kids can handle. (There are some spoilers in this review so you may want to stop here if you have not yet read the book.)

The story is set in a dystopian future, in a country called Panem “that rose up out of the ashes of a place that was once called North America.” (p. 16-17) Panem is divided into twelve districts, ruled by a totalitarian government from the Capitol, a modern city where overindulgence seems to be the norm. Actually, there were thirteen districts at one time but the thirteenth was obliterated by the government during an uprising. District 12, furthest from the Capitol, is the poorest district and home to the book’s heroine, Katniss Everdeen.

To punish the people of Pandem for the uprising, the government holds an annual “game” in which 24 children—a boy and a girl from each district—are selected by lottery to fight to the death. The survivor wins.

As Katniss says, “Taking the kids from our districts, forcing them to kill one another while we watch—this is the Capitol’s way of reminding us how totally we are at their mercy. How little chance we would stand of surviving another rebellion.” Yes, she said “while we watch.” The Hunger Games are televised, from their overblown opening ceremonies, through all of the deaths, until the crowning of the victor. Katniss becomes a participant in the games when she volunteers to take the place of her younger sister whose name is initially drawn.

While it sounds bleak and depressing, this suspenseful and action-filled story is actually an inventive and compelling way to introduce young readers to some serious social issues:

• the contrast between the lives of people in the Capitol and those in District 12 touches on issues of poverty and classism;
• the Big Brother style government with its brutal methods of enforcing laws could help children understand what it feels like to live in something other than a democracy, and open up discussion about today’s totalitarian regimes;
• questions about the intrusion of media and the ethics of reality TV are raised through the ever-present cameras in the arena and Katniss’ need to play up a false narrative to please the audience;
• desensitization to violence, evident among the elite in the Capitol, reflects today’s issues of increasing violence in television and film;
• the artifice of the people in the Capitol, who undergo surgery to appear younger and thinner, raises questions about our society’s focus on appearance.

Katniss is the perfect observer of the goings-on in the story. She is wise beyond her years and a very perceptive young woman. In fact, her narration is my only point of criticism. It is nicely written, but sounds very adult—so much so that I had a hard time believing that the protagonist was a 16-year-old. She uses words like “arduous” and phrases like “The sadness, the marks of angry hands on their faces, the hopelessness that curled their shoulders forward.” Maybe I am underestimating teens, but the vocabulary doesn’t exactly ring true for me.

Still, once you accept that Katniss talks like this, you will find some very keen analysis of the situations in which she finds herself. As someone who has been close to starvation many times and survives by hunting illegally in the forest near District 12, she is dumbfounded by the luxury in the Capitol, asking “What must it be like, I wonder, to live in a world where food appears at the press of a button? How would I spend the hours I now commit to combing the woods for sustenance if it were so easy to come by? What do they do all day, these people in the Capitol….”

On the difference between hunting animals and people, she says: “Amazingly similar in the execution. A bow pulled, an arrow shot. Entirely different in the aftermath. I killed a boy I don’t even know. Somewhere his family is weeping for him.”

And her feelings towards her “prep team” after the games are done, who discuss the action in terms of how it affected them: “Everything is about them, not about the dying boys and girls in the arena.”

Balanced gender portrayals are another strength of this book. To survive the Hunger Games, the protagonist needs to be mentally and physically strong, resourceful, courageous, and smart—attributes more often associated with males than females in children’s popular culture. It would have been easy and, perhaps, expected, to have a male lead in a book like this. Instead, we have Katniss, a female who possesses all of those traits and is instantly relatable to readers of both sexes.

Around Katniss is a nice mix of males and females who do not fall into stereotypical roles. Female competitors in the games range from the smart and generous Rue to the cunning “Foxface” and the bloodthirsty Clove. The male competitors tend to be more physical, but the biggest and possibly most fearsome of them has a heart and sense of justice. The boy from District 12, Peeta, is caring and sensitive but also smart and brave enough to outwit an alliance of other competitors and keep himself alive. Katniss and her best friend, Gale, (a boy) share similar interests and enjoy spending time with each other just talking and hunting, with no forced romance between them (at least not in this book, the first of a trilogy).

As the book ends, Katniss has a lot to deal with.  She has been scarred by what has occurred in the games arena. She is happy to have survived, of course, but questions the human cost of the games and bears tremendous anger toward the Capitol for putting children through this ordeal every year.  She has also earned the enmity of the government for the way she chose to end the game, which ensured not just her survival but Peeta’s as well.

Her various small acts of defiance in this book show that she is not likely to tolerate the Capitol’s intimidation forever. I look forward to reading the rest of the trilogy to see what she does next.

Age-Appropriateness

Because of the dark premise and violence in the book, people have questioned its suitability for young children.

While booksellers and Common Sense Media say that The Hunger Games is suitable for ages 12 and up, the librarians interviewed in a recent Toronto Star article note that kids younger than the recommended age have been “clamouring to read” it and that many, in fact, have read it.

While it is up to each parent to judge the subject matter for themselves, I would tend to agree that the book is a bit too much for anyone under the recommended age. The level of language alone would likely challenge a younger child, as would the dark themes. The concept of a fight to the death might be troubling enough, but the violence, while never gratuitous, can be very intense at times, especially the long and drawn-out scene where marauding mutant mutts slowly kill the last competitor, much to the pleasure of the audience watching at home.

Before handing this book to a child in grade 4 or 5, I would recommend that parents read it and determine for themselves whether their child can handle the language, mature themes, and violence.

This is the question posed as part of the Blog for International Women’s Day, presented by Gender Across Borders and CARE.

There are many ways to answer that question, but I believe that one way to help girls is to make the experiences and stories of girls and women as relevant in our culture as those of boys and men.

From the time girls (and boys) are toddlers, they are introduced to a world where boys take precedence, a state of affairs that leads me to ask some important questions about children’s popular culture:

Why do the vast majority of children’s films tell stories about boys? Looking particularly at animated films, which appeal to the younger children I write about, it is nearly impossible to name any that feature a female lead unless she is a princess who gets rescued by a prince. There are similar discrepancies in animated televisions shows, especially once you leave the preschool demographic.  I’m not suggesting we push male characters entirely to the sidelines, but why not change up the leads in a kids’ film once in a while? What if Cars had been about a female race car, or if Finding Nemo had featured a female clownfish lost and alone in the ocean? Seeing females in challenging situations would be good for both boys and girls.

Why is it that when female characters are present in a film, they are usually relegated to secondary, stereotyped roles, most commonly as moms or love interests? Limiting girls’ roles in popular culture limits their concept of what they can be. Such limitations can be overcome by parents, teachers, and caregivers, but when we allow our culture to pigeonhole females into traditional roles, we are also, unconsciously, teaching girls some harmful lessons about which traits are valued most in females—and that list does not include assertiveness, physical power, or independence.  And what are we teaching boys to expect from girls? Passivity & prettiness?

Why are boys discouraged from reading stories about girls? It is conventional wisdom that girls will read stories about boys, but boys will not read stories about girls. A while back I looked into some online recommended reading lists for boys and found few, if any, titles with a female protagonist. As I said then, “By having their scope of interest narrowed, even with the best of intentions, boys will continue to believe that stories about women and girls are less interesting and less relevant to them, simply because they are about the opposite sex… If we ever hope to achieve sexual equality, we need to teach boys from a young age to value girls and women. Denying them stories about females is definitely a step in the wrong direction.”

Toys and games are also a part of a child’s culture, which leads me to ask why there has to be a “girls’” version of many toys. I wrote about the pinkwashing of board games in a post a long time ago, and things have not improved. Generic toys that have been “pinkified” include:  microscopes, the Fisher-Price chatter phone, building blocks, laptops and electronic reading systems, cameras, LEGO, electronic keyboards, drum sets, Wii remotes, and cash registers. Even a new version of the Kobo e-reader features pink trim.  This segregation of children’s play experiences again puts girls outside the main culture, telling them that the standard version of a toy is not for them; they should instead choose the pink version which is typically only available in the pink section of the store.

I’m sure there are other examples, but these are just a few that seem to crop up regularly in my work.

People often ask me why I make such a big deal out of gender bias in kids’ pop culture. “It’s only one film/book/TV show/toy,” they say. “Get over it.”

The trouble is, it isn’t just one film, TV show, book, or toy. Half of today’s school-age kids are not seeing their experiences represented in mainstream children’s pop culture, especially the big two—film and television. (At least in North America.) Gender bias pervades kids’ pop culture and it matters.

In 2001, in the Encyclopedia of Women and Gender, psychology professors L. Monique Ward and Allison Caruthers summarized the findings of some 76 different studies into the impact of media on children’s perceptions of gender. Although more research is needed, the authors concluded that “frequent or directed exposure to stereotypical images appears to strengthen traditional orientations to gender, while frequent or directed exposure to egalitarian images appears to weaken them.”[i]

Making more stories about females available to children would weaken the stereotype of the male as the supposedly more interesting, heroic, and capable sex. That is a change that would benefit both girls and boys. (I devote a chapter of my book to the impact on boys of male dominance in kids’ pop culture.)

Instead of making girls feel that they are not part of the story, our culture should be welcoming them. In the process, we will help girls see themselves as truly equal in value to boys, and show boys that girls and women are people they can be inspired by, learn from, and share experiences with.