Why I Hate Princesses

Tonight, E asked me a strange question.

"When I was still in heaven and God was making me, did I get to choose what color hair I have?"

I frowned. "No, I think God chose for you. Why?"

"Because I wish I could choose yellow hair."

What?!

This awakened both the dormant Asian American rights activist and the (less dormant) feminist inside of me. How is it that my four-year old daughter already wishes she was a blonde? What in the world have I been doing wrong?

And then I look around us. Tonight, while C was having a crazy tantrum because I took a peach skin out of her mouth that she was chewing like tobacco, E was quietly coloring in the other room. She's learning to color in the lines now. She's learning to choose what colors go with certain things. I praised her for being so patient while I was tending to C's tantrum. I've been single mommying this week while hubby is in Baltimore, so the evenings are kinda hit or miss. Usually one child is good while the other is horrific. Like tonight when I was doing C's bath and she was screaming, not wanting to let go of her stuffed sheep, and E started playing Twinkle on the piano by herself (?!).

Anyway, I digress. What was my dear eldest daughter coloring? A bunch of princesses. What color hair did they all have? Yellow. Yes, Disney has attempted to diversify a little bit. But Tiana and Jasmine are not on the first page of this coloring book, they're on some page in the back. Not to mention that Jasmine's biggest plight in life is that oh, boo hoo, she and her mid-drift baring outfit can't decide who to marry. Woe is me. Yes, I was reminded of this when reading a Disney princess book that she'd found at the school lending library. The lack of empowerment in these princesses' lives, especially the old-school ones, is just incredible.

I have never bought anything with a Disney princess on it, but they have snuck into our household. A friend gave her this princess coloring book for her birthday. Another friend at school gave her these popular little figurines called click dolls that they have of all the princesses. For Christmas, various relatives gifted us with all kinds of Frozen paraphernalia. Some friends from church are having a birthday party this weekend, and guess what it is themed? Princesses. There will be live princesses at this party (real people dressed up as princesses that sing all the songs. Heard of it? Good way to make a buck on the weekends.)

Before I know it, she knows all the names of all the princesses, the stories, the struggles (having long hair is really tough for Rapunzel, and Snow White has met a bunch of strange little men that she cooks and cleans for) and now we are fully steeped in princess culture. What does she want to be for Halloween next year? Elsa. How original! The Frozen princesses are the least offensive of all - but I am just plain sick of them. They are absolutely everywhere and it is a bit nauseating.

I went online to see what was going on with Mulan. She's clearly not on the first tier of princesses that are being paraded around by Disney. It's a good story, but once I was reminded of the art style in the Mulan movie, I was disappointed once again. All the characters have slanty eyes that remind me of early caricatures of Chinese workers with the big straw hats on. There's a pet dragon involved.

I watched a lot of Sleeping Beauty growing up, but it never made me wish that I was a brown-haired flower maiden who sang to the birds. There's something different about the culture that my girls are growing up in now. There's an intensity about it that didn't exist in the early 80's - an intensity that makes me fear for my daughters when they are teenagers, worrying about their weight, hair, clothes, and other superficialities. I am incredibly conscious about the types of dolls that my girls have. The first doll ever gifted to us (by my dear cousin) was a Corelle Asian doll that is probably the only one on the market that I actually really like. It doesn't have squinty eyes and it smells like vanilla and it's not wearing anything "ethnic." Even in my daughter's preschool room where the dolls are supposed to be multi-ethnic according to state standards, the Asian one is wearing a qipao and has slanted eyes. The Latino one is wearing a sombrero. I think our culture should be beyond this kind of "It's a Small World" multi-ethnicity. Haven't we progressed into understanding other cultures as more than just sterotypes? Can't we see people of color as real people that wear t-shirts and jeans rather than costumes?

Last Christmas, I wanted to give my girls some special dolls, so I had them made from a local artist to sort of look like them. I know that sounds a little crazy, but I honestly just was appalled by the limited choices on the market and thought it would be better to spend a little money supporting a local artist. I just don't like the thought of buying a doll that does not remotely look like us at all. I'm glad to say that they were a big hit, but they were not fun after awhile because the other kids at school didn't know who they were. It was just a doll, and not a familiar princess plastered on every candy bar, cereal, or juice box sold in the local supermarket.

I am sure there are tons and tons of girls out there who have been infatuated by princesses from a young age who turned out to be capable, bright, successful women. But I for one fear for my insecure, self-conscious, shy little girl. When I look at her, I see such beauty and promise and to think that she wishes that she looked different or is different just breaks my heart. I am committed to continually telling her that she is beautiful just the way she is and want her grow up to (and I summarize a quote I saw on FB the other day) shatter glass ceilings rather than just desire glass slippers. And I am glad that my little one still loves her stuffed sheep and teddy bear more than anything right now.

Birthday Letter

Dear Elisa,
You turned four this past week. We celebrated your actual birthday with a lovely, low-key day - breakfast with Uncle Joonmo and Auntie Minnie at Millie's (per your request), a walk through the Silverlake Farmer's Market where we used to spend many a Saturday morning, and a playdate with your best friend from preschool. You lit up when you were with her. You're growing up so quickly - you have friendships that mean the world to you now, and such real, living emotions that can be so intense sometimes.

We had a birthday party for you today, a joint party with your sister. We had a tough moment in there - you were fixated on getting to a certain gift that your friend told you about. I was upset that you couldn't play with your guests like a proper host. You wouldn't bend to my control. To the best of my ability, I couldn't talk you out of your emotions, and I was frustrated. I was a bit harsh on you. When I later thought about it, it felt unfair because the gift was something particular from your friend at school and it meant something more to you than the item itself. Having it meant belonging, fitting in, and having commonality with them. I just couldn't understand that at the time and ordered you to put on your happy face and get on with the party.

I later apologized to you, because I think that's what parents should do when we lose patience, or act in a certain way that the situation didn't deserve. We are only human after all, and we're in this whole thing together. I said, "I'm sorry I got upset earlier." You said, "When did you get upset?" I smiled to myself, feeling thankful for how quickly you forgot my anger. I said, "When you were upset at the party. Remember?" You nodded. "Are you sorry that you were upset?" I asked. You nodded again, and we hugged.

I hope our reconciliation will always be this simple. I hope that as you go through this age of another strong season of emotional development, that I will never attempt to stifle your emotions or force you to be happy when that's not what you are feeling. I hope that you will help me to understand that your world is intense at times, so raw that you cannot see things any other way. I am the same way. For all your stubbornness, I love you so dearly. You are my strong-willed, determined little girl. I respect you for it, and I hope that I will raise you in a way that empathizes with your emotions, and embraces them no matter how inconvenient they are. I also hope that you will grow up knowing that you are your own person, and be confident in who God made you to be. I hope that in this materialistic culture of ours that you will not always feel like we only belong if we have what others have. Let's remember that we have to strip all those things away from our hearts to really know who we are and who God made us to be. I hope you will continue to discover that this year.

My favorite moments are watching you play well with your sister. Today I overheard the two of you having a conversation in the tepee, while Daddy was vacuuming. You guys were hiding in there with a bunch of blankets and pillows. You were saying, "This is our car. I'll drive, ok?" and Cara obediently said, "Ok." It was so adorable. Cara fits the role of younger sister well, looking up to you and copying your every move. I hope you will understand the importance of your role in her life. You two are quite the pair and you exhaust me while also filling me with such a deep joy knowing you have each other. I love you so much. Happy birthday, my dear chocolate cake.

Love,
Mommy