I was playing with my neighbor’s little daughter today, and she acted out a story about a pony using my old Fisher-Price Little People . Not Proust or anything, but she’s four, give her time. The pony ran away from his mean mom and dad (both played by female-type Little People) and got hurt. He was rescued by a (female) doctor and two nurses (one female, one male.) They cured him and found him a home with three “moms,” all female-type LPs. Then the pony lived happily ever after, the end. This is the same kid who had me play a female police officer toy while she played a Bratz doll, and the two lived together and “love(d) each other” (her words).
Then I come downstairs today and find my ten-year-old brother has set up his Star Wars figurines in the bright pink dollhouse.
Someday these kids are going to grow up, and hopefully they will bring with them their innocent, adorable, happy-making, complete disregard for all the socially constructed norms and stereotypes we associate with the male/female binary, and I hope I’m around to see it when they do.
Cheers, sweethearts. You are the future, and it will be beautiful. Here’s to you.