On Fat-Shaming, Misogyny and Feminism for Kids

This particular blog is written from a place of rage.   I am so angry at how uninterrogated and systemic forms of racist sexisms and direct misogyny continue to be permitted in educational settings – with the attendant emotional violences to boys, girls and those who don’t fit the binary.  I have seen girls too frightened to play sports with boys, girls teased for having “giant abs”, racialized girls identified as not beautiful enough to playground-marry, and girls teased about having "boobs" at the age of 5.  Boys are shamed for wearing nail polish from kindergarten on, teased for “acting babyish” if they play with girls, they are told and repeat that princesses are useless and to-be-mocked, while non-binary children have their very existence called into question.  And all of this while educators stand by and permit it and legislators codify these norms into law.  Though I have rarely heard the words “boys will be boys” and “girls can’t do that” explicitly articulated, they might as well be engraved on the signs outsides of schools: Named Elementary School: In Sexismo Permittimus. 

If I sound furious, I am.  I was recently giving a “training of trainers” to psychologists and teachers, and I was running some slides by my mom and stepmom.  My stepmom made the astute point that while there are basic examples offered of some forms of systemic discrimination and while they are problematic, systemic misogyny makes almost no appearance in contemporary curricula.

In the spirit of the feeling behind the feeling, anger is often a cover emotion for feelings of grief and fear.  I am terrified by the regressive nature of education that allows these everyday forms of sexism, racism, ableism, homophobia and transphobia to persist, by the denial of those adults who refuse to see or interrupt them, and what that means for all of us – as the basic humanity of our children is denied.  Girls learn that a basic level of cruel misogynist teasing is going to shape their lives, and boys learn that the only safe feelings are stoicism and anger (and half the time that anger is not a feeling at all - it's simply "being rational"), while non-binary children are invisible all together.

In this spirit of trying to at least imagine a different world, I offer up three books.  From now on, where possible I’ll be highlight those titles available in English and French where they exist.  I'll additionally be linking to them at the public library if available.

Pink, Blue and You! 

by Élise Gravel, illustrated by Elise Gravel

This book is smart and funny and fun.  National treasure Élise Gravel, whose picturebook on fake news has meant that my children are more skillful at picking out manufactured news stories than many grownups, again turns her mind to important issues of social justice.  This book is filled with jokes, and although it includes the usual “are some of these toys for girls/are some of these toys for boys” pages filled with different clothing and toys, it goes beyond this messaging.  Kids love funny books and we need more books that contain educational lessons that make children laugh.  This book includes a dinosaur saying “When I become extinct, I want to be a toy for boys” and a king decreeing that pink is for girls and blue is for boys (which, as many people know, was the opposite 100 years ago).  Pink, Blue and You! also poses good questions, including: "Do boys need to play sports? Do girls need to play with dolls?" as well as “Should we feel bad about doing the things we like?” It gives a small explanation of the difference between sex and gender, and gives the tiniest bit of feminist analysis of homo- and trans- phobia and how certainly people are prohibited from partnering or expressing their gender in the ways that they like. 

Do we even need feminism anymore? said a child in the 6th grade to me.  "I'm just curious," I said.  "Who arranges your playdates?   Packs your lunches? Makes sure you go to the dentist? Knows the name of all of your friends, including the friends you aren't friends with anymore?"  I thought and did not say: "who stays home when you're sick most often? Who scrubs the toothpaste out of the sink while brushing her own teeth? Who do we see holding the power in movies? on TV? in companies? who gets teased for for running like a girl? throwing like a girl? being a girl and liking girl things? Who says a statement that ends in a feminine lift signaling said statement is just question that is followed by an actual question like: "if you think it's ok."  Answer being: yes, we still need feminism.  

Beautifully Me

by Nabela Noor, illustrated by Nabi H. Ali

I rarely say this, but I think this book is basically perfect.  It includes non-binary children, it explains racist sexism, it talks about family of origin trauma, it does psychoeducation on why we lash out when we feel bad – and it does all of this while being totally captivating to children and just a rollicking good story.  This book features Zubi, who is excited for her first day of school.  Stoked to put on a jamming outfit of overalls with a pink tee – way to rock the butch AND femme Zubi – she’s getting ready to school when she witnesses each member of her family fat-shaming themselves.  Her mummy thinks her tummy looks too big, her sister is on a diet and so eats super-gross oatmeal instead of parathas, and her dad is stressed because he can’t fit into the shirt he got for Eid.  Once she gets to school, Zubi is having a fun time playing, until one of the kids in the schoolyard shouts to another child (who is non-binary) –  "Alix, you fat in your dress."  The author/illustrator team beautifully articulate Zubi’s confusion – trying to understand what’s happening, Zubi says “Alix looks beautiful in their silk dress. . . . But Kennedy doesn’t sound like she’s giving a compliment.  Why is looking far bad? Do I look fat in my overalls?”  Every time I read this book, the kids go absolutely still when I read the line: “I don’t want kids to make fun of me, too!”  Once home, at first Zubi doesn’t open up about what’s going on to her family, but at lunch, she refuses to eat because she tells her family that, like her sister Naya, she is on a diet.  Her family is shocked and appalled, telling her she doesn’t need to be on a diet, but Zubi bursts out with the pain of having witnessed her family tell her one thing while doing another.  Her parents make a very meaningful repair, including some psychoed through dialogue:
 

“'Zubi,’ Baba said, ‘sometimes when people are feeling sad or hurting inside, they try to make other people feel the same way.  That might be why Kennedy was mean to your friend.'

I never thought about why someone would be mean before.

‘But sometimes we can be mean to ourselves without even realizing it.  And when we hurt ourselves, we hurt the people we love and who love us.  That’s what we did to you today, and we’re sorry.’"

After a silence reading this book at a school recently, one little girl burst out to another, “when you called my mommy fat, that’s just what you did.”  The other little girl did not apologize and did not look stricken, and I did not take that moment to mean that she had not heard her friend's pain.  I took it to mean that it had entered heart and rendered her wordless. 

We need, we urgently need, to figure out how to weather our own uncomfortable feelings rather than dumping them on those closest to us.  Zubi’s family courageously learns how to make the repair, and so can we.  We can breathe through those feelings, we can connect and share them with others, we can run them off or write them down, but we cannot continue to take our hurt feelings and dump them on one another in a vain attempt to find some relief.  After making a similar speech to the class, I came home, tripped over a water glass I had left on the floor and promptly yelled at my youngest son for not picking up his toys because I was irritated with life in general.  Which is to say, learning to manage our uncomfortable feelings without dumping them onto others is a lifetime’s work – and it seems like it takes more than a lifetime to learn.  Let us try to learn from Beautifully Me's example how to begin.

Viva's Voice

by Raquel Donoso, illustrated by Carlos Vélez

I struggled with what to choose as a third book.  There’s another book I like that does a good job of unpacking fat-shaming (Big, by Vashti Harrison) and a book that I think is useful but boring called Feminist Kids, but the book I decided to choose is Viva’s Voice.  Viva is an activist – I read this book at schools all over city during the big strike in the Canadian Federal Public Service in 2023.  This book features a gentle bus-driver father learning from his daughter how to use his voice to speak up for his union during a bus strike.  Furthermore, this book showcases feminist action while being an interesting read.  Based on her experiences of going out to the picket line during difficult tines when her father was on strike, the author has created the heroine Viva.  Viva is courageous and extroverted, a proto-feminist character and comfortable speaking in front of people.  Her dad, unlike Viva, is quiet and shy.  Viva loves hanging out with her father when he drives his bus, but one morning when she requests a chance to go to work with him on his bus route as she has done often before, she is told by Papi that he is on strike.  This book skillfully defines what it means to be in a union (wanting better conditions and pay for workers), what a picket line is, and why workers might go on strike – all the while integrating Spanish into the story.  Viva wants to go to the picket line, but Papi initially says no.  Then, in the practical reality of life that you rarely seen pictured in books, Mama reminds Papi that they don’t have any childcare, so he’d better take Viva to the picket line.  After having chanted for a while, Papi is supposed to speak in front of all the workers, but Viva sees he's very nervous.  When she asks Papi what’s wrong, he tells Viva that he’s shy about speaking in front of others, which is #relatable to almost all children.  Viva decides to stand at the front with Papi – helping him to feel less nervous – nearby protesters hold speeches saying they want better pay and benefits (subtly interrupting the employer-led lies that all workers want from strikes is more money).  

Neither of my sons like being dragged to protests or strikes.  My son told me: "Mom, I'm just a kid. I have no idea why you like to go to boring events for fun."  This book helpfully scaffolds some of the reasons why we might join a picket line while showcasing a feminist heroine.

To all the educators out there, trying to interrupt systemic discrimination one child at a time, I am so grateful to you.  This work is not easy or fun, it's repetitive, tiring and thankless.  "They're giving medals to all the wrong guys" remains one of my favourite lines - because it's so true.   And yet, "Stephen is pulling on my dress" said one child.  "That's her body" responded a teacher for the fifth time to Stephen.  Thank you, thank you.  I probably wouldn't do as a good a job, but I'm grateful to you for keeping on keeping on.

Until Soon,