Parenting in the Land of Gendered Toys

Nothing has awakened my sense of feminism like having a little girl. And nothing gets my sense of feminism more annoyed than when we go toy-shopping.

As a society, we're supposed to embrace equality between men and women; we work to recognize gender should not matter. But step into the kids' section of a department chain or a specialty toyshop and it's easy to see some things are meant only for boys and others for girls.

I get that there are fundamental differences between many boys and girls, but I also understand a lot of this comes down not to genetic makeup, but the social roles we continually reinforce. Boys enact battles with action figures and weaponry; girls serve fake plastic food and nurture dollies. My kid is part of a growing number that does both.

We were recently in a store with L, our almost-three-year-old. Like so many shops, its toy section was segregated into the blue/pink binary. Boys got Star Wars, Superman and sports, while the girls had ironing boards, vacuum cleaners and tea sets. In other words, half our kids get to pretend they're heroes while the other half prepare for domestic duties.

L doesn't see this, of course. She doesn't know someone somewhere decided dinosaurs, robots and train sets were for boys, because she has all these things at home. She also doesn't know some of her shirts are technically male-intended because too much toddler-girl fashion is wrapped up in ugly princess-wear and puppies. (When it comes to L's choice of patterns and images on beachwear, turtles and sharks trump hair-combing mermaids.)

We went to the Lego store last week, in search of a penguin to perch atop the giant Duplo towers built in our living room. For the most part, "normal" Lego is marketed toward boys. I'm guessing the rationale is construction is traditionally a male-dominated field, but Lego is also architecture, interior design and sculpture - there's no reason one gender should be more into it than the other.

Still, when you're in a Lego store, it's easy to spot the girl sets - they're ghettoized in a small section, with blocks in various shade of purple, pink and pastels, along with princesses and more svelte figurines. For now, L bypasses them and heads straight for the zoo collection, but if she wants to build fuchsia pet salons one day, we won't stand in her way.

Encouraging L to look beyond traditional girl toys is about opening new doors, not closing old ones. She still wears pink, flowery hats, and she carries around an assortment of infant dolls. I also spent last weekend painstakingly assembling a kitchen for her birthday. My wife and I just want L to know it's okay that she also likes to pet spiders, proudly show off bruises, get muddy and pretend she's a big, scary crocodile.

We want L to make her own fun-time choices before TV commercials and classmates start dictating what she can and can't do. Like, the other night, I was drinking a cane-sugar cola; L asked for a try, but we told her pop wasn't for little ones.

"I don't like that drink, either," my wife reassured her.

L misunderstood. "Oh ... that drink is not for girls," said my daughter, nodding her head while processing."No, that's not it," my wife quickly said. "It's just not for me. Everything is for girls. We get to decide what things we like."

What are your thoughts while toy shopping? I'd love to know what other parents think when they step into a toy store. 

Erik Missio used to live in Toronto, have longish hair and write about rock 'n' roll. He now lives in the suburbs, has no-ish hair and edits technical articles. He and his wife are collaborating on a two-and-a-half-year-old girl who may already be smarter than both of them. He received his MA in Journalism from the University of Western Ontario. Related articles by this writer:Notes on children's musicMy kid loves comics. Yours could, too!