I admit it--I was a princess-hater. I was derisive and dismissive of all that had to do with Disney princesses. I disliked the depiction of women as a damsel in distress, I disliked the idea that all will be solved by a prince’s rescue and I disliked the incessant merchandising of absolutely everything. I swore that there would be no princess crap in my house until my daughter asked for it by name. Lo and behold, by her second birthday, she wanted a princess doll. So I caved in. For her second Halloween, she dressed as an adorable Snow White. That Snow White dress has earned its keep again and again; she wore it to day care, to the mall, to church, to the barn. I didn’t argue, I supported her play with a veiled eye roll. I was still too cool to embrace the princess culture.
Lately, a few things have made me realize I was wrong, wrong, wrong. First of all, princess culture has its benefits. Disney princesses are polite, and they clean up around the house, especially Cinderella, after her annoying step-sisters, and Snow White, with all those messy little dwarves. It’s pretty convenient to say to my sassy three year old, “Cinderella would pick up her toys, wouldn’t she? Snow White is kind to others; you should be kind to your baby sister and not knock her down when she takes your toy.” Manipulative? OK, but a mom’s gotta take any advantage she can these days.
Today, I was skimming my facebook feed, which is where I get all my news from the outside. Our t.v. is permanently tuned to Dora’s latest adventure, not the national news. There was an interesting article about an artist who turned ten important women into Disney princesses. Here is the link: http://www.womenyoushouldknow.net/flatten-heroine-artist-puts-disney-princess-filter-10-real-life-female-role-models/ He took people like Ruth Bader Ginsberg and Marie Curie and drew them as Disney princesses. I believe the idea is that when we make people into flat, 2-dimensional, silly-looking cartoons, it diminishes them. That’s true, I’m sure. But, my three year old came by the computer and pointed to Rosa Parks as a princess, “Mommy, who is that pretty girl?” “Kiddo, that is a woman who worked very hard to make things more fair for other people. You know what ‘fair’ is, right?” So, we had a short todder-version conversation of civil rights. Then, she went off to color.
I am not above using princess culture to teach other lessons. I can’t blame my daughter for loving pretty things, sparkles and ruffles. I can’t blame her for being attracted to pretty drawings. In this case, those pretty drawings were of really important women and I was very grateful for her to hear their names. I wish they had a 10 Women You Should Know Princess coloring book. I would be the first one to buy it. Even better, a t.v. show where those 10 princesses go around bringing social justice to the world.
Most importantly, I now realize I was underestimating my kid with my princess resistance. Recently, a good friend recently wrote a blog in favor of princesses. (Here is the link: http://searchingforingleside.blogspot.com/) She is a strong, educated woman who I respect immensely. She wrote about how she played kick-ass princess when she was young, not princesses who just waited around for some man to marry. It was like getting hit over the head--Duh! I, too, had played princess as a kid. My princesses ran through the fields, rode imaginary hawks through the sky, fought to save Narnia from the evil witch, and rode really, really impressive horses. None of my fantasies involved weddings or even princes at all, unless they were sword-fighting with me. How could I be so blinded by the merchandising that I forgot the beauty of fantasy? My daughter plays pretend in all sorts of ways, with a Snow White dress and crown or a hard hat and cowboy boots. Why shouldn’t I give her the credit she deserves, to create her own kick-ass princesses?
I am a princess-hater no more. Get out the diamond tiara because I’ve got a kingdom to save.
I used to use Batman the same way on my son: remind him that Batman wouldn't act a certain way in order to get him to behave better. Once when I needed him to wear a tux as a ringbearer, I told him that he had to be Bruce Wayne for the wedding, but he could transform into Batman for the reception.
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