The Magic Gender Spell!

All of the best conversations happen at snacktime.

Yesterday, a third-grader was noticing and telling me about the mannerisms of my coworker (we'll call him Irving). Irving is very flamboyant and a little androgynous. Some days, like yesterday, he looks pretty hipster. Apparently, differentiating between women and gay male hipsters hasn't been covered by third-grade.

So this young girl, with a strong tone of criticism in her voice, begins informing me about Irving's general presence:

-- You see that guy? He dresses funny. He dresses like a girl. He looks like a girl.

Honestly, yesterday wasn't even one of Irving's flamboyant days. He looked like a J.Crew model. (Note: he was not, to my knowledge, wearing pink toenail polish.) My response is something like:

-- Sometimes people dress differently than others. I like the way he dresses. I think he looks good.

She pulls her head back, wrinkles her nose, and raises an eyebrow. She shakes her head.

-- No, he looks like a girl.

Then, she is overcome with an epiphany. She is waving her hands in all directions as she begins exclaiming and explaining:

-- Wait! I know. You and him need to switch! He should turn into a girl and then you'll be a boy! You guys are under a magic spell! We have to switch you back!! We have to fix the spell!

I decide to run with it.

-- Hm. Who can fix the spell?

-- I know, Mr. Jackson! No, wait. I can! [She leans back and waves her arm.] Cadabra bacadbra!

-- Did it work?!

-- Awww, no. It didn't work. You're still a girl.

Her fourth-grade friend sitting with us gives it a shot. The gender-reversal spell eludes her as well. The third-grader is still intent on fixing Irving and me.

-- Okay. I'll have to check my spellbook. But it's at home, so I'll have to wait to fix the spell on Monday.

-- Okay.

-- [Seeing Irving talking to another staff member] See! He even acts like a girl! [gasp] Oh, my gosh! Look at his shoes! Those are girl shoes!

I'm pretty sure they're TOMS shoes. I start in again with my defense of gender-variance.

-- People can dress any way they want. I think those shoes just look like shoes. I like the way he dresses! I think he looks great!

-- You mean you like him?

I roll my eyes and pause, before continuing:

-- You know what, it's probably a good thing the spell didn't work. We should really have asked him if it was okay before we tried it.

-- Why?

-- I think we need to ask him if he really wants to be a girl. He might, but he might not. Sometimes how people dress is different than how they feel inside. We should ask him what he thinks.

-- No, I'm pretty sure he should be a girl.

-- [sigh]

By then, the other third- and fourth-graders were getting a little rowdy and it was time to clean up snack and move to the next activity.

I was excited, because I get excited any time students suggest that I'm actually a boy. I want to be really happy about it, but I don't think I defended my coworker as much as I could have.

The only conversation I've had with Irving about gender happened a couple of weeks ago, after a couple of kindergarteners had asked him if he was a girl or a boy. He was really surprised. It wasn't the first time he'd been asked, but it seemed like it was the first time kids were unsure of his gender. He knows he's a little androgynous, but he's definitely a cisgendered guy.

I'm not sure how much of an inner sense of being in one's body there is before puberty. Gender distinctions at that age largely are wrapped up in clothes. So it's probably unreasonable to expect a third-grader to understand the distinction between gender presentation and gender identity. What I can encourage is asking questions, and asking permission.

I think I'm going to give Irving a heads up and if it comes up again on Monday, we'll walk over to him and ask if he wants to be a girl before trying any more spells.

Poll: "Appropriate"

Which question (when asked by a third-grader) would you feel most comfortable fielding?

• Are you a boy or a girl?

• What do you do with your boogers?

Welcome to my day.

Second-Graders and Gender

I work in a local school district with before- and after-school Title I programming. Since I'm working mostly with the middle range of elementary school (2-4 grades), I'm interacting with an age group that is still figuring out how adults interpret gender boundaries. It's fascinating.

I don't think my coworkers realize it, but I get "Are you a boy or a girl?" a lot, especially when there are a lot of new students. I really strongly feel that a simple answer doesn't do the question itself justice, and doesn't fully represent who I am. I aim for addressing gender honestly and casually when the subject comes up. Through my interactions, I want to teach kids that the answers to gender questions aren't cut-and-dried, and also that gender questions are okay to ask!

I've had many good experiences. There was the second-grader who thought I was a boy for weeks, and didn't seem bothered to learn that most people assume I'm a girl. There was the new third-grader, who called me 'he' when talking to her friend. Her friend 'tattled', and it was pretty wonderful watching this friend realize that I wasn't even the least bit offended. Of course, there was also the third-grader who, when making a paper monster as group activity, was lamenting (loudly) the fact that their monster was a boy but it had long hair. I never managed to persuade him that a boy monster can have whatever kind of hair it wants.

One experience sticks out as particularly difficult: A second-grade boy had asked about my gender, and he said he thought I was a boy, which I told him was okay. A week or so later, when I was out of the room, he and another student asked my coworker (albeit probably not speaking with as much respect as they should have),

"Where'd that other dude go?" "Yeah, where'd he go?"

My coworker got very defensive on my behalf. Taken aback and offended, she asserted,

"You mean she? I don't think her parents would have given her the name they gave her if she was really a boy!"

I cringed inside when my coworker relayed the conversation to me later. I was worried that the boy was going to think I hadn't taken his question seriously, or worse, that I'd lied to him, or had been making fun of him the previous week.

All of these fears were quelled today. This boy came up to me, and asked again, as if it had never happened the first time:

-- Are you a boy or a girl?
-- Most people think I'm a girl. What do you think?
-- I think you're a boy.
-- That's okay!
-- And half girl.

Now if only everyone else in my life could be a little more like this second grader...