Kids, Gender Stereotypes, and Independence

My week in the education literature continues. Tracing through the references from the article I mentioned yesterday, I wound  up at

Social Behaviors and Gender Differences Among Preschoolers: Implications for Science Activities

To be fair, I did read through the entire article, but these two gems in the abstract caught my attention immediately:

Findings indicate that the social behaviors of boys and girls were stereotypical

and

During free time, preference for same-gender peer interactions was observed

The authors go on to discuss the aggressive, at times violent behavior of boys, and the generally more caring behavior of girls. 

Per normal, these assertions run  contrary to my experiences. I believe the institution the kids are being studied in—public schools—can very easily instill these messages. I do not believe, however, that they have to be the norm.

My most recent  experience with the concept that institutions can teach stereotypical gender behavior came almost two years ago at an engineering conference.  Before I begin, allow me to say  that the  conference was unique, even progressive, in that it had a track for kids at all. Also, I’m sure the adult who was involved in the following story was sure they were doing the best thing for a ‘child’, (although they rather obviously thought the word child was synonymous with being incapable both in handling oneself, and speaking for oneself).That’s part of the story though isn’t it? People were doing good things, things that are offered by so few other conferences, and yet we still wound up in the wrong place with poor expectations not unlike the ones engendered by the article mentioned above.

So, what's a kids' track you ask? Kids of attendees were encouraged to come to the conference, submit, and present projects of their own. It was spectacular! The oldest kid here, Daize, who was at the time eight years old, spent the year  beforehand building a two bit binary digital adder out of discrete logic gates. She prepared her slides, and practiced her talk before we headed out. 

The opportunity to present her work wasn't the only good thing though. The conference had also organized activities for the kids both  during the day, and to a lesser extent in the evening. 

Daize didn’t partake of many of the daytime activities, because, well, the conference was about engineering applications in outer space: rockets, satellites, interplanetary exploration, and the like. Because the kid was used to attending talks with me, we asked if she could tag along to talks during the conference. The answer came back that to attend the talks she’d need a full registration as opposed to a student registration. We upgraded her registration, and we were off.

When we arrived, the kid and I explored the different halls  where talks would be presented over the following days. We, and by we, I mean she, memorized the names and locations of the rooms. With that information in hand, if the kid wanted to attend a different talk than I did, she could. If she  wanted to take a break, and sit quietly with a hot chocolate, she could do that too. And everything went swimmingly. The kid enjoyed the talks she went to see about rockets, and superconductors, and satellites. She occasionally took breaks, sipping on hot chocolate, heading back to the room to hit the potty, and so on. Sometimes, she took her book to sit near the conference hotel’s fireplace and read. Her presentation came off without  a hitch! We hiked in the woods of Montana. Really and truly, the whole occasion was delightful, but also, there was the abled (with respect to age), gendered thing that happened as well. It wasn’t awful, it wasn’t even bad, but it makes a point quite nicely.

One evening the kid decided to go to an art activity, planned for kids, while I went to a talk. The kid knew where the talk was, she knew where our room was, we both just assumed—and discussed with each other—that when she got done with the  activity, she’d head  to the talk or the room. Everything was good.

I went off to my talk. The kid went  to her  art activity. When the talk ended, since it was on the way back  to the room, I stopped by the art activity room. There was the kid sitting at a table. I was about to wave to her to see if she wanted to head out when one of the activity managers stopped me. 

“She seemed a little upset earlier, but we handled it.”

Surprised, because upset wasn’t usually a thing the kid did, and because everything had been kinda primo for both of us, I asked, “Ummm… what happened?”

“Well, she finished her activity, and got up looking like she was going to leave the room.”

‘Ohhhhh…. That’s because she was going to le…” I  stopped myself. There are times, places, and adults where, and with whom, I’ll say something to the effect of, “Let me fix this for  you. The kid’s allowed to go where she pleases when she pleases. Thanks for trying to help, but really, she’s got this.” This was not one of those adults. Had I told her how the kid and I work together, I would have in turn, been told the ‘rules’, and that we were not to break them… Liability and whatnot… I’m sure you understand… I took my own  advice, advice I’ve delivered to the kids many times. Sometimes, if you’re getting away with what you want  to be doing, it’s better not to announce it to the world, lest they tell you that  the thing you’re doing is ‘not allowed’, and you then have to decide whether to stop, or to ‘fly in the face of authority'. I  stopped mid-sentence, nodded my head, and waited.

The activity manager continued, “I decided that since she was trying to leave, she  probably would have more fun hanging out with  other  girls…” (A parental aside here, this kid is into her art. When she’s doing art, and  wants to be doing art, she has no idea who else is at the table. It’s a thing.) “... so, I got her some more supplies, took her to the table that had a lot of girls, and sat her down.” The activity manager finished with a perky smile, “Then she was fine!”

Ohhhh, I thought, Ohhhh goodness! 

In  the meantime, the kid had spotted me, and  walked up to meet me and the  manager at the entrance.

“Ready to go?” I asked.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m ready to go.”

When  we got back to our room, I asked the kid, “Did you actually want to sit at the ‘girls’ table?”

“No, no I didn’t.”

“What happened.”

“I  got done with my project, and I wanted to leave to go read my book. The teacher  wouldn’t let me leave!” She was not pleased. She was, in fact, fairly livid.

And so it goes. I patched things over with the kid. I explained this is a—wrong—thing that some adults do. They make assumptions about what a kid can or can’t do. This time, the assumption had been layered on top of a gender stereotype. We talked about that too. Everything was good, the rest of the conference was delightful.

And so it goes. When we assume boys, and girls act a certain way, we rob them of their own impressions, desires, and thoughts. When we make assumptions that aren’t necessarily true, not only are we wrong, but we’re also teaching those assumptions. Prior to that day, the kid had had to deal with adults that  didn’t think she  and her sibs should be out and about without their parents. She took umbrage, but she’d dealt with it before. She’d never heard of the girls’ table though. 

I think we would do well to examine our assumptions—gender based, age based, capability based, or otherwise—in all our interactions, but especially in our interactions with kids, keeping in mind that we just might be wrong. We should also keep in mind that since we, as adults, are purported to be teachers and role models, it’s good to understand what  we’re teaching, not just purposefully, but—especially coming from an unschooling perspective where I don’t think I purposefully ‘teach’ ever—also what we’re teaching by broadcasting our assumptions, assumptions that weren’t requested by our audience in the first place. Instead, maybe we should clear our assumptions with  the people we’re speaking with before we air them. We should, as kids  are so often implored to do, ‘use our words’, to find out what the other person is all about, what perspective they’re coming from, and what they actually want. Then we won’t need to make an assumption at all.