"The Future is Female." That phrase has been rubbing me the wrong way for a while. At the end of the day, I totally get it: girls should be able to achieve and reach for anything their hearts desire. No one should EVER make a girl feel inferior simply because she is a GIRL. But now that I am a mother to two sons, seeing "the future is female" on T-shirts, something about it irks me. I find the language limiting.
The future should be for all of us. My three and a half year old and my almost two year old boys do not know about the history of white or male privilege. Granted, they will likely be living it, but for now, they have no clue about the wage gap between women and men or the literacy gap between kiddos in poverty and kiddos who are not. They are starting with a clean slate. Toddlers are a fresh, unbiased start.
True, my boys cannot read and they don't know to ask me "what does 'the future is female' mean, mommy?" But I wonder, is the future not for them, too? I am thrilled to see the records being broken by highest number of congresswomen in history - rightfully so! Women should be able to do whatever they set out to do, and anyone who disagrees should jump out of the way, and quickly. I was raised exactly the same as my brother - my parents never for a second made me feel that I couldn't go after something because I was a female. But I know that's not the case in many families.
I didn't understand white privilege until I joined Teach For America. We had these mandatory quarterly trainings where we discussed statistics and diversity that we were living everyday in our classrooms. I wanted to argue it at first. I am not PRIVILEGED, I thought. I worked really hard to get here, and so did my parents. My parents busted their tails to give us the opportunities we've had - for example, we moved when we were in middle school so that we could attend outstanding public schools.
But guess what? I am granted more opportunities and often have a step up because when I was born they marked the "caucasian" box. I have had it so very easy because my parents were college graduates. It was hard for me to admit that, because I didn't want to belittle the hard work my parents put in for me, but it's true.
When I was teaching third grade at KIPP SHINE elementary, I grew close to several students outside of school who needed some extra attention. One of them, we'll call her Cindy, was being raised by her grandmother, and while all of her friends in class had the money and a parent to take them to the after school soccer league, she did not. After I figured this out, I offered to pick Cindy up on a few Saturdays and take her with me to watch her friends and cheer on the team.
One day she and I went to Jason's Deli for lunch after watching a game. Sitting in our booth, waiting for our food, Cindy said "Ms. Robinson, how come the only people in here that look like me work here?" I looked around, ready to disagree. It was crowded, and Houston is a diverse city, surely there were not just white families there... But she was correct. In a packed, casual restaurant, the only people who looked Latino were servers and bus boys. The manager was white, I noted. My stomach dropped. It opened the door to a meaningful conversation with Cindy, and the memory has stayed with me nearly ten years later. Here I was, teaching her Monday-Friday to reach for her goals and work hard, and then in real life she only saw people that looked like her working minimum wage jobs, or even struggling to find consistent work, like her mom.
The future should be for the busboys, too.
I am so lucky that have such encouraging parents and family. I am privileged to have such a kind, open-minded husband, who supports that I work part-time out of the home, and never acts as if his job is more important than mine, just because he is a man and I'm a woman. Drew is quick to do dishes and laundry, things that I always assumed I would do as the mom/female in the house. (In high school when my mom was out of town, my dad needed help getting the washer going to run laundry. I kid you not.)
I hope I don't seem truly angered by "the future is female." It's just been something I keep coming back to as a boy mom: I think the language is catchy, but limiting. We are working so hard (well most of us) to make today better than yesterday, more inclusive, more opportunities. I think the language invokes division instead of promoting access for all. Don't get me wrong- girl power all the way! When I was a teacher, I started following a facebook account called "the mighty girl" that is full of incredible female achievements, news and stories. It is empowering, and even though I don't have daughters nor do I teach a classroom, I haven't unfollowed that account. Our boys will know about Eleanor Roosevelt and Mae Jamison and Jane Goodall - and they will know about their aunt Leslie who has her doctorate in astrophysics! Dang, girl! Our boys will know about strong women, like their grandmothers and great-grandmothers and great-great-grandmothers, and the men who respected them and treated them as equals.
Someday, I'd love to run for office, like local school board - or maybe the senate. My great-grandmother who was born in 1916 would likely never have thought of that in her thirties. We've come a long way - and it's true, the future IS for us females. But it's for my boys, too. Let's raise young men to know that all women (and people from other backgrounds and income levels and religions and cultures) ALL of us have a seat at the table. Let's reach for a future that doesn't need "the future is female" shirts, because that won't even make sense. Of COURSE the future is female. The future is also black, and brown. You know what they say and maybe we need more shirts to remind us of this-
"Red and yellow, black and white, we are precious in His sight."
