The difference between girls and boys

I read this post over at Relevant Magazine that talked about how we shouldn’t let girls watch Disney because of the “princess propaganda.” Now, I know that Disney takes it a bit too far with the whole “follow your heart” shtick, and we all know that life doesn’t always end up “happily ever after” with the man/woman of your dreams. But the tone of the article struck me as wanting to genericize (oh yea, it’s a word) gender.

Ok, so here’s where I’m about to go out on a small limb and risk being seen as sexist or something.

I think that we should be ok with gender distinctives. I think it’s ok to be true to who God made you to be. I think that it’s ok for boys to be boys and girls to be girls. I think it’s part of what makes life so grand. God made it that way for a reason! He didn’t create a uni-sex world where everyone fits into the same mold. He created man, realized one sex wasn’t good enough, and so he created woman too.

I know every guy and gal is unique, but for me it is obvious. The sexes are very different. Having both girl and boy children has brought even more conviction to this belief. My son quickly became obsessed with trains, sports, and breaking things, without any help from me. My girls loved dressing up, and playing house, and (*gasp*) they even love the Disney princesses.

Maybe I’m just a bad parent.

But here’s what else. Gender is also evident in our parenting. I wish I could say I am one of those nurturing, sensitive dads, but that isn’t exactly true. If my son gets an injury, I usually rub it off, and send him back in the game. My wife, on the other hand, will continue to ask me if I think he’s really alright. The bump, she offers, might actually be a concussion. My drive for my kids seems to be that of a provider and a defender, and I know many men who feel exactly the same. I know, I know, traditionalist! To make it worse, my response to my daughters is often different than to my son. If one of them gets hurt, I turn into “EMT dad.” I race to the scene, the first aid box comes out, and on goes a SpongeBob band aid.

I know that culture tells me that my instincts are wrong in this, and that my daughters ought not to like Disney princesses. But I choose to celebrate the differences. They’re fantastic! I choose to live in a God-created world full of color and distinction. How about you?

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