Now that my kids go to an actual school, I feel a whole family-pack of mixed feelings, starting and ending with the simple fact that I’m no longer the one who’s in control of the flow of most of the information in their heads. Like, there are 13 other kids that my daughter talks to more often than she talks to me. (Except for the kid who doesn’t talk to anyone and pisses in his pants every day… but even he’s around her more often than I am, so no dice.)
I really never thought this would happen. I had a vision that I was going to be able to raise my kids differently than anyone ever had, that they’d grow up free of racial prejudice and television and only wearing pink and all the other bad stuff that’s wandered into the head of any other kid, ever.
Sadly, that is not always the situation. Case study #1: Language.
In college I read Inga Muscio‘s amazing book Cunt: A Declaration of Independence. (I was a feminist! I was the only guy in Womyn’s Issues Now! I could do anything!) Essentially, the point of that book was that the word “cunt” used to be an honorific term for the female ruler of a country, whereas the word “vagina” is an Old English Latin word meaning “sheath for a sword.” And, in the earliest days of changing nappies and learning how female people wipe, I was quick to teach my gurgling baby proto-feminist girl to say “cunt!” instead of “vagina” — or instead of whatever other term you’d use. Read the rest of this entry →