Can children be brought up in a gender-neutral manner? However well-intended parents may be, is it unrealistic to bring up a baby girl free from gender stereotyping? Those are the sort of issues that Marianne Grabrucker addresses in the diary she kept during the first three years of bringing up her daughter, Anneli. The reading below highlights some of the comprises Grabrucker had to make in bringing up Anneli. Given that Grabrucker made a conscious effort to be ‘gender neutral’, when reading these extracts you might consider how much more subject to gender socialisation the majority of children will be. From the point of view of this Sociology Unit we are mostly interested in the content and what it tells us about the socialisation of girls in particular, however it is also an interesting form of research where Grabrucker is both the researcher and at least in part the subject of the research. This type of research may or may not interest you in terms of your own research project.
A child is born, a new woman
has arrived. And her future is going to
be different.
These were more or less the
thoughts that I and women friends and acquaintances had when my daughter was
born. It was like starting school, the
New Year, a new job or a new love affair; it was all going to be different this
time – better. I was going to avoid all
the old mistakes, or at least those we thought we understood. I would be cautious and diplomatic, would
employ tact and the right sense of balance, so that a ‘new woman’ could unfold
naturally.
I was, of course, simply
following relevant theories of social conditioning, proceeding on the
assumption that it is education which forms man and woman. For my daughter things were going to be
different. She was not going to become
like us, that is, women who were born in the post-war period. I did not want her to accept from her male
contemporaries what we had accepted as regards education, work and personal relationships. I did not want her to be compliant, to keep
her opinions to herself and to smile sweetly instead of contradicting. I did not want her to be always checking and
rethinking her ideas before daring to open her mouth, unlike her male counterparts
who would say everything three times and then repeat it once again. And I did not want her to be completely
devoted to some man who would be continually finding fault with and criticising
her until she lost faith in herself. I
wanted her to avoid having plans for the future which were modest and which
fitted in neatly with the reality of women’s lives. My daughter was going to reach for the stars!
The theory was that our
generation and the thousands of generations of women before us had been prevented
from achieving all these things by a process of gender conditioning determined
by centuries of patriarchy. This
process had to be broken. My daughter’s
socialisation was going to be different – this was to be a new start and
traditional influences were going to be eliminated as far as possible. I myself was determined to make no mistakes
in this respect and I really believed that I was capable of this. I thought that my involvement and growth in
the second wave of the women’s movement in the late sixties, my own experience
of personal relationships and of discrimination in my studies and in my
profession as a lawyer had made me proof against any risk of my bringing up a
child to be a typical girl. I had
thought and talked about it too much to believe myself susceptible to
that. If everything were caused by
education then everything could equally well be avoided through education –
such was the conclusion I came to.
I kept a diary about the
development of my daughter. In the
course of time I grew less sure and began to doubt my premises. I was often on the point of abandoning my
theories and accepting a belief in innate gender-specific behaviour, for so
many ‘feminine’ aspects of my daughter’s behaviour could not possibly have been
learned from me. And I was confirmed in
this by many critical and emancipated mothers who were absolutely convinced
that they were bringing up their children in a manner free of gender
prejudice. For they too seemed to find,
especially if they had both a daughter and a son, that there really were innate
boy and girl traits. Nothing could be
done about this, it simply had to be accepted.
We shared many a sigh. But the
mothers of boys seemed less concerned than the mothers of girls.
At the end of each day I
began to make a precise account of everything that had happened, what I had
said and done and what had been passed on to Anneli and her male and female
friends – always from the point of view of what part these trivial, often
insignificant, events might play in role creating. My sensitivity grew in direct ratio to my understanding. Days teemed with role-enforcing events,
concealed and obvious, for which I was only rarely responsible.
An accumulation of such
experiences provides the child with a pattern, in accordance with which it is
bound to adjust its own behaviour within its environment. Only when I had gained this general view
from three years of observing quite chance events, and grasped all the details
as part of a whole picture, did I realise that I and the world around were
building brick by brick a woman governed by patriarchy, and not a human being
with female or male components. And so
much of this happened unconsciously, unintentionally, without reflection or
real understanding of the situation.
For these reasons the mothers I spoke to about it denied that their
approach to their children’s upbringing was gender differentiated, as I would
also no doubt have done without the diary.
For the first time I recognised many things in everyday life as being
gender stereotyped and realised that everything happened like a computer
program set to ‘girl upbringing’.
I am therefore now convinced
that mothers who proceed from a belief in the innate differences in behaviour
of the sexes are falling victim to a mechanism which keeps on reproducing
itself. Behaviour patterns are handed
on unconsciously. The result is then
labelled ‘innate’ and it is here that the mistake is made. I therefore think it both mistaken and
dangerous when progressive and thoughtful mothers begin to believe that there
are innate differences just because, despite the best of intentions, they
themselves are having no apparent success in rearing their children differently
from traditional patterns.
The events described here
happened principally in Berlin and Munich.
Our home is in Munich and there Anneli lived in the father-mother-child
nuclear family, where her father earned the money and was away from home from
Monday to Friday and was available only in the evenings and at weekends. Since I was not earning and had more freedom
I took the opportunity to visit friends and family in Berlin quite often, and
there Anneli lived in the society of emancipated feminist women, with me but
without her father. We also spent some
time each year in the nearby Alps, in villages in the Tyrol or
Switzerland. Anneli was thus exposed to
a wide spectrum of behaviour and attitudes, between the progressive north and
the ultra conservative south.
19 August 1981 (birth)
When I see her for the first
time, when I look into her face and she into my eyes – she’s lying on my
stomach and the umbilical cord has just been cut – I think: ‘She’s beautiful,
she has well proportioned features, she’s pretty.’ And I’m overwhelmed with
relief and think ‘Well, that’ll make things a bit easier for her. ‘Because I’ve
learned from personal experience that a woman has to look good to justify her
existence in this world. Only then has
she any right to open her mouth, to make demands without being laughed at (more
than otherwise), is permitted to have wishes and to be choosy, not just making
do with what happens to come her way.
She can expect things of men, because she’s got something to offer. Above all in the choice of partner. I’m full of vague fears for my daughter and
worry that she will, after all, end up dependent on some man, on the
benevolence and understanding of one partner, and I’m afraid things will only
turn out okay if she can make her choice and not make do with second best.
These are all my own fears
and problems I thought I’d got over long ago but which are now
resurfacing. Apparently such anxieties,
in the best patriarchal tradition, were latent; deep down I’m ready to pass
them on to the next generation.
Winter 1981 – 1982 (3
to 7 months)
I regularly meet one of my
women colleagues, a lawyer, who had a son three weeks after I had Anneli.
Every time we meet, Karin
admires Anneli, saying how pretty she is, how dainty and graceful her legs are,
and what a good ballet dancer she’d make.
She admires Anneli’s long eyelashes and blue eyes and says that later on
her flirtatious glance, her smile and delicate figure will turn men’s heads and
they’ll run after her. ‘Anneli will be
able to twist men round her little finger’, she says.
But neither his mother nor I
say anything like this about her son.
Neither of us paints a picture of a future geared to his appearance or
of his market value with women. In his
case we are amused when he pees in a wide arc as his nappy is being changed, or
we just talk about his eating and sleeping habits.
Later I discuss this with
Uschi, the mother of one-year old Annalena, and she has a similar tale to
tell. During a visit to a friend who
has a son they talk first about how adorable Annalena looks - this is their main topic of conversation –
and then about the boy’s abilities, his progress and development.
Then I suddenly remember
Margaret Mead, who said that a girl was important to the tribe, or society, by
her very existence, because of her reproductive function; she doesn’t need to
achieve anything to justify herself, as men and boys do. Is this what’s at the bottom of our
behaviour? A girl is admired simply because she exists, because of her beauty,
but a boy has to do something more than simply be there to attract attention;
he has to define himself by playing with objects and by acquiring skills.
14 February 1983 (18
months)
We’re walking in the centre
of Munich. On an advertising hoarding
there’s a large advertisement for a film showing a picture of a half naked
woman. Once again Anneli announces
‘Woman nothing on’. The fact that she
says this so often is beginning to get on my nerves. But she has obviously recognised naked women as a fact of life
and feels a need to communicate to me her moments of recognition. I myself have become so blunted to the sight
of naked women that I hardly register them any more.
In the evening there is a
meeting of a club I’m a member of. I
can’t find a babysitter and Anneli wants to come with me. Since I’m chairperson I have to go and I
take her with me. Inevitably we’re
fifteen minutes late and a man is just speaking when we arrive. He continues for another five minutes before
handing over to me. During this time
Anneli whispers to me ‘Man talk.’ After that I speak for a while and then
everyone joins in. On the way home I
ask Anneli whether she liked the meeting and all she says is ‘Man talk’. I’m simply furious that the man’s five
minutes of talking have remained the determining factor of the evening for her.
3 May 1983 (21 months)
Grandma is visiting us and
is playing with Anneli. Some soft toys
have been wrapped up and are being rocked to sleep. Grandma shows Anneli how to do it and she copies eagerly. Grandma would never have done this with a
boy.
She’s brought Anneli a present
of a little shopping basket. When we
set off to do the shopping in the afternoon I’m on the point of giving it to
her and saying ‘There, now you’ve got a shopping basket just like Mummy’s, when
it occurs to me that by doing so I’m identifying her with me and again defining
her in terms of myself and my own activities.
Of course, this isn’t the first time.
How often have I passed on the idea of being ‘just like Mummy’ in my
daily activities as a housewife?
This sense of being just
like Mummy, handed on in the daily intimacy between mother and daughter, stays
with us all our lives.
28 December 1983 (2
years 4 months)
Anneli is playing with the
Duplo pieces she got for Christmas and realises that one of the building units
is a dredger. Now she needs a ‘dredger
man’, to go with it. Klaus suggests
that she use the figure of the girl as it would do just as well and hands her
it. She rejects it with exasperation. ‘That’s a girl.’
Klaus: ‘Can’t girls drive dredgers?’
Anneli: ‘No,
because women would get their hands dirty then.’ I’m shocked but recognise my
own dislike of the grease, oil and dirt involved in car repairs…..
I’m sure I never actually
said as much and am inclined to think she got this from Grandma. Or was my behaviour itself enough to lead
her to this conclusion? I can hardly
believe so…..
One thing that made a strong
impression on me was, on the one hand, girls’ mothers willingness to experiment
and, on the other, the convservatism of boys’ mothers. Gender limits are being extended for girls
and their horizons broadened in comparison with former generations. And there are enough directions being made
clear, since girls have a lot to gain in the experiment. Girls’ mothers want change for their
daughters, a new future, a new different identity from the feminine one
prescribed in the past. So they set off
together with their little daughters on a search following first one and then
another route, without really knowing whether they will achieve their
goals. There is plenty of
experimentation in the upbringing of girls.
This means that girls are confronted with the two ‘worlds’ prescribed
for the sexes, and are expected to feel at home in both. On the one hand many of the messages they
receive require them to be and behave like girls. On the other hand they are also expected to feel at home in the
boys’ world. And all this at an age
when they are struggling to find their own sexual identity and trying to find
their way to one of the two poles.
The fact that little girls
wear both trousers and dresses whilst anything other than traditionally
masculine clothing is out of the question for boys makes clear how girls are
forced to adapt to masculine lifestyles, and the demands this makes on them. This is the symbol of being a woman and at
the same time being allowed, able, expected and obliged to do everything the
masculine world decides for us. If the
image of the independent self-confident professional woman requires it, we put
on our tailored suit; if the sporting image and increased interest in
technology so requires it, then we put on our dungarees or tracksuit. We change roles, in fact we change our very
identity, because we learned early on how to do everything.
It’s different for a
boy. The mother and the people about
him, who are all so concerned about his sexual identity, create no tension with
his environment and its message by giving him varied clothes and toys. Identity development is for a small boy more
or less straightforward and clear, following prescribed models. Whereas a girl might be praised for
behaviour that exceeds traditional role expectations, the same is at best
ignored in a boy. At worst he is put
right at the first opportunity, but a boy will never – however progressive his
parents may be – encounter positive reactions in those around him if he behaves
like a girl.
Therefore, although there is
no doubt that the liberation of girls from the chains of conventional
upbringing can only be seen as positive, as long as no major effort is made to
change boys’ education as well, the pressure on girls to adapt will
continue. As long as boys are not
challenged, exposed to risk and to insecurity, placed outside the seclusion of
patriarchal culture, we will be stuck with girls’ skill at adapting. This means all sexual liberation is required
of the incredible strength of small girls, of their carrying the burden of
change on their shoulders. Unless boys
are challenged they will again come up against the brick wall of masculine
ignorance and lack of sensitivity and experience men’s complete inability to
question and change themselves. Men
have never learned what it is like to feel one’s way into different roles, to
be laughed at, to take second place.
They have always been in the winning team, they are insiders.
As long as mothers recoil in
horror at the thought of their sons wearing their older sisters’ nightdresses,
beautiful though they may be, nothing will change in men. As long as Anneli is proud of wearing the
cast-off clothing of Martin, nothing will change in her two-fold struggle to be
both a woman and like a man.
I think it is time, now that
a start has been made to change the upbringing of girls, to start a new gender
approach with boys. Many examples have
shown us that emancipatory education directed only at girls is doomed to
failure and will never lead to any significant change in the relationship
between the sexes.
Only when both sexes from
childhood on are engaged in a continual process of change, moving forward
together step by step, is there any hope for a future of real equality.
From M Grabrucker (1988)
There’s a Good Girl: Gender Stereotyping in the First Three Years of Life: A
Diary, London: Women’s Press pp 7-12,17-19,24-5, 35,82,159-61.
1. In her first diary entry (19 August 1981), Grabrucker
comments on the looks of her daughter, Anneli, and comments ‘I’ve learned from
personal experience that a woman has to look good to justify her existence in
the world.’
(a) What evidence is there to support or refute this
comment?
(b) To what extent do you think ‘looking good’ is more
important for girls/women than boys/men?
2. Grabrucker suggests that mothers are more
conservative in bringing up boys than girls: for example they are less likely
to discourage girls wearing trousers than they are to discourage boys from
wearing dresses.
(a) What other examples of the conservatism (with regard
to gender) of parents in bringing up boys can you think of?
(b) Why do you think parents might be more conservative
in bringing up boys?
3. Grabrucker claims, “This sense of being just like
Mummy, handed on in the daily intimacy between mother and daughter, stays with
us all our lives”.
(a) Do you think this is correct in every day language adult people often say something like “god I am turning into my Mum/Dad”, and does Grabrucker’s research provide evidence for this?
(b) Or can we point to differences in the lives of young
women/ men compared to their parents to say that they can break away from their
early socialisation?
4. Do you think
that society proscribes ‘two worlds’ for the sexes and girls/women face the
difficulty of having to function in two worlds which have contradictory values
and rules of behaviour?
5. Is there any evidence of the ‘two worlds’ of boys and
girls being brought together?