Boys Who Watch My Little Pony

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I came downstairs the other day and found my boys watching My Little Pony on Netflix. Instantly, I felt an internal struggle brewing, much like the one I felt a few weeks prior when I found them watching Strawberry Shortcake.

One internal voice told me to encourage my sons to watch something more boy-oriented. Bob the Builder? How It’s Made? Diego? Cars? Anything with strong male characters and/or large machines. The competing voice told me to keep my mouth shut and quit trying to impose artificial gender roles. They asked for My Little Pony. Mom set it up for them. They were happy. Why was this a problem?

Voice #2 won.

So, you’re a…dancer?

A similar struggle occurs sometimes at my mom’s house, where she has collected an assortment of costumes for them and my niece to play with. I wasn’t a big costume person as a preschooler, so for a while most of her costumes were my sister’s old dance uniforms and other dresses. Despite my efforts to be openminded and enlightened and all that, it was a tiny bit disturbing to see my 3 1/2 year old son walk out in my sister’s pink and gray mouse leotard from her first dance recital. But I didn’t say anything. Apparently, Grampy was a bit more disturbed. Grammy saved the day and bought the boys an assortment of superhero costumes, which they seem to prefer most of the time.

Will boys be boys?

Part of my quiet discomfort springs from the gender roles I’ve been taught and seen modeled throughout my life. You know the traditional mold. Boys are supposed to be active and rough-and-tumble, to like destroying things and making noise, to play with cars and superheros and army dudes. Girls are supposed to be sweet and quiet, to like reading and dancing and tea parties, to play with Barbie and My Little Pony and jewelry.

As a general rule, my boys and my niece fit those molds very well with minimal conscious direction from any of their parents. My boys are loud, love to run and climb and wrestle, and are fascinated by fire trucks and cars and airplanes. Reagan speaks softly, dances, loves dresses and purses and princesses, and wears as many bracelets as her little arms will hold.

Interestingly, on a few occasions, Brenden has turned down a cup of yogurt or a movie because it had princesses, saying it was “for girls”. So he has some rudimentary concept of gender roles and the idea that certain things are designed for one gender or the other. But in general, my boys they like what they like, which in their case also happens to include some “girly” things like My Little Pony and leotards. I’m not sure anyone’s ever told Brenden that he’s not “supposed” to like those things because he’s a boy. And I don’t plan to. There are certain elements of being a man that I want to teach them, but they involve qualities and actions, not likes and dislikes. Standing up for what’s right, treating people with love and respect, taking responsibility for one’s actions and the people who depend on you…those things are part of being a man. Liking cars or violence or sports is not a requirement. Neither is disliking tea parties or shoes or My Little Pony. When we buy them toys, we lean toward boy-oriented or neutral ones. We’re certainly not pushing them to cross genders. But neither do we freak out if they pick up a doll.

Born This Way?

Mixed in with the issue of gender roles is the issue of sexual orientation. They might not be as blatant or obnoxious as Homer, but I think some parents still wonder how their actions might influence their children’s sexuality and sexual orientation. Will watching My Little Pony and wearing dance leotards turn my sons gay? For some, that’s a stupid question. For others, it’s a perfectly legitimate one. Your answer depends mainly on whether you think sexual orientation is based primarily on nature, nurture, or personal choice.

In an Emmy-winning 1997 episode of The Simpsons called “Homer’s Phobia“, the Simpson family gets to know the local antiques dealer, a nice man named John. Everyone gets along great, and Bart starts emulating John’s crazy taste in shirts and dance moves. But when Homer figures out that John is gay and fears his “gayness” might be rubbing off on Bart, he starts a crusade to keep Bart on the straight and narrow, so to speak. He shows Bart “manly” cigarette ads, takes him to visit a steel mill, and takes him on a hunting trip. Surely shooting some unarmed animals will keep Bart straight. Finally, after John saves Homer and crew from the reindeer they were hunting, Homer reluctantly accepts John and then realizes that Bart still has no interest in either gender.

I’m certainly no expert, and I know some of you disagree, but I fall in the nature camp. I didn’t choose to be attracted to women; I just am. I can’t just make myself like guys. I can’t explain why I like girls. That’s just the way I am. And I find it ridiculous to assume that so many gay people, especially in past decades when society was less accepting, would willingly choose to “be gay” and invite so much abuse, hatred, and death from the straight community. People more knowledgeable than I have said that certain circumstances, such as abuse, can affect one’s sexual orientation, so I doubt nature is the only factor. But for most of us, I am convinced it’s the primary one.

Because of that view, I feel no obligation to “train” my boys to like girls. That’s the other reason I’m not freaking out like a “good American dad” when I see them watching a show aimed toward girls or trying to forcefeed them “manly” pursuits like fishing or hunting or football.

I want them to pursue their interests. Some might be more personally appealing to me than others, but part of my job as a parent is to help them discover their interests and talents, explore them, and possibly do something with them, whether they involve sports, drama, rock music, politics, science, religion, writing, or whatever else might grab their attention.

So I’m not stressing out whether they watch Bob the Builder or My Little Pony, dress like Superman or a pink mouse, or play with Lightning McQueen or Barbie. Brenden and Jonathan are who they are. I want them to become the young men God created them to be. And no matter how they turn out, I will love them with all my heart for as long as I have breath.

Cog in a Machine

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Walking around Headquarters early in the morning always reminds me of my two different lives at my company: I.T. and Dispatch. I leave my current office, in which I am a largely nameless worker bee, and briefly visit my previous world, a vaguely familiar place in which each worker has a specific niche and responsibilities that only he or she can fulfill.

These two different lives reflect two different kinds of jobs that we can generalize to most of the workforce. Since I’m not feeling creative enough to dream up snazzy names, let’s call them person-oriented jobs and role-oriented jobs.

Person-Oriented Jobs

These jobs depend on the specific skills, personality traits, contacts, and experience of the individual who holds the position. The worker has a niche, turf to control and defend, and is producing work that few if any other workers are doing at that company. Managers generally fit into this category. Perks might include one’s own office or desk, phone number, business cards, reputation, and appointments plus a sense of ownership and achievement regarding one’s projects. The work schedule is often normal business hours, but not necessarily. When the worker is out of the office, the work either doesn’t get done or only gets done by special arrangement with a coworker. Drawbacks include meetings. Coworkers, clients, and customers have a relationship with the worker.

I know some of these people. My dad is a CPA who owns and runs a small accounting firm. My friend Donny runs a company that sells parts to soup up your car. My friend Chris is a financial analyst. His wife Demona is a science teacher. In my previous life in I.T., I was a technical writer and business analyst.

Role-Specific Jobs

Role-specific jobs generally involve shift work, the kind of jobs where some warm body needs to do something for some amount of time. The worker’s individual identity and personal characteristics are not the keys to success. Instead, the worker’s value lies simply in fulfilling a role for a given time. Despite minor differences in ability, technique, or style, workers are largely interchangeable within each group. If one worker can’t come to work, someone else steps in and gets the job done. The work schedule can be quite variable and include nights, holidays, and weekends. The worker generally lacks a dedicated phone line or cubicle/desk/office. Relationships with clients/customers are generally superficial and very short-lived with limited interaction. Perks include the ability to trade shifts with coworkers, leave one’s work at work instead of dragging it home every day, and maintain some level of anonymity among the company’s customers.

I know several of these people as well. My friends James and Alexis are police officers. My sister Lisa is a nurse. My friends Jeremy and Lacy are firefighters. I am a flight dispatcher.

Which is Better?

Neither type of job is better than the other, but for many, one is a better fit for their personality, personal life, career goals, or abilities. For me, a role-oriented position is a better fit. During my time in I.T., I discovered that I dislike meetings, prefer not to work on huge projects that follow me home at night, feel a bit guilty if I’m away from the office for too long, and prefer not to be the only person capable of making a particular decision or fixing a given problem. As a dispatcher, all I have to do is show up and do my work until it’s time to leave. Although sometimes I wonder about specific flights after I leave, generally I go home and relax at the end of the shift. Whether the shift was good or bad, once it’s over, that body of work isn’t my problem anymore, and then next day I’ll have a whole new set of work to do. Each day gives me a sense of accomplishment and closure. I’m not on call. Nobody bothers me with fires to put out when I’m not on duty. If I call in sick or trade off a shift or use a vacation day, someone else does that work instead. They might do it better or worse than I would have, but it doesn’t matter either way because it’s not my problem. I look around in my office and see at least 12 other people doing exactly the same thing I’m doing, and any one of them could step into my role with minimal effort.

I also love the anonymity. I’ve probably developed some sort of reputation among the pilot group, but our interactions are nearly always professional rather than personal. On a phone or radio call, the captain generally calls me “Dispatch”, and I generally call him or her “Captain”. It works out great since I’m terrible with names. Plus, unless I happen to know the captain, I don’t really care who he/she is. I care that the voice on the other end belongs to the Captain, with whom I share joint decision making responsibility for the flight.

Some people want to be an artisan, a puppetmaster, a unique contributor to the business world. Bravo, says I. We need plenty of people like that. But I’ve discovered that it’s great to be a cog in someone else’s machine. I get plugged in for eight hours, do my thing to the best of my ability, and then get swapped out with someone else until next time.

Which type of job do you prefer? Which type do you have right now? If they don’t match, why not?

Titanic 3D – Is It Worth It?

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In honor of the 100th anniversary of Titanic’s sole voyage, James Cameron and some clever visual effects people found a way to convert a 2D movie into 3D. Normally, I’m not a big fan of 3D, seeing it as a gimmick that often distracts me from the movie rather than enhancing it. The story is key to any movie, so I’d rather not sit there marveling at the technology rather than being lost in what’s happening to the characters.

Much to the chagrin of my friend James, whose valid objections are duly noted, I love Titanic. It’s probably the most moving film I’ve ever seen. (at age 33, married, and a father of two boys, I feel little need to prove to anyone how masculine I am, so Mark Driscoll can kiss my butt)

About a year ago, I discussed some of the emotional aspects of the film and whether it was unfairly manipulatively. But since I hadn’t seen it in maybe a decade, I decided to see it one more time on the big screen, this time through those weird 3D glasses. It was a different experience this time for two main reasons.

3D Update

As in the excellent Avatar, Cameron and his visual effect team struck the right balance in using the 3D effect appropriately, letting it enhance the film without becoming the focus. The ship itself received most of the 3D enhancement. The opening exploration sequence with the deep-water submersibles and cameras played much better in 3D, making it feel like you were there in the rusty, dark wreckage trying to find Rose’s room and trying not to bump into the 85-year-old hull. The 1912 sequences of the ship before it sank gave a greater sense of its size and grandeur with the addition of 3D, and the actual sinking became that much more horrifying. Thanks to several 3D previews and Cameron’s restraint with the effect, I soon forgot that I was watching a 3D movie and simply dissolved into it. Don’t ask me how they made it 3D when it wasn’t shot that way, but it works quite well. For the record, as one commentator wondered about, Kate Winslet’s prominently featured left breast is not 3D. Sorry.

Overall, although I rarely pay the extra $3 to see a 3D movie, I didn’t regret it here.

A Different Perspective

The other interesting aspect of this viewing, over 14 years and several life changes later, was how my perspective on certain elements changed. Different parts moved me more than they did as a 19-year-old. I was familiar with love back then, but had little experience in some other areas. For example:

  • One of the most painful scenes for me this time showed a father telling his wife and children goodbye as they climbed aboard a lifeboat. “It’s OK, this boat is just for the mommies and children. There’s another boat later for the daddies.” I can hardly imagine how it would feel to lie to my boys and let go of them as my last act as their father, knowing I would almost certainly die and hoping that they would somehow survive, albeit without their daddy.
  • I have a new appreciation for the nobility of having a profession and doing it honorably in the midst of chaos and despair. The string quartet that played on deck almost until the very end…the servant who stood beside his boss near the Grand Staircase while he sipped his final glass of brandy…the lifeboat captain who chose to return to the wreckage and look for survivors…all these people inspire me in my own work. Each person had a role, some more glamorous than others but all important, and each played his role well. I am reminded of my own office during tornado warnings like we had on Tuesday. I was home with my family, but dozens of my coworkers were on the job when the sirens went off and the building managers ordered everyone in headquarters to retreat to designated safe areas. The airline can run for a while without accountants, programmers, HR people, and other support groups, but Dispatch is the nerve center for the airline. We stay right in our seats in case our flights need anything. No, it doesn’t put my mother at ease, but there is honor in doing something well even when you’re tempted to bail out.
  • On a related note, I could sympathize more this time with the captain who buckles under his feelings of guilt and remorse in light of the tragedy unfolding around him. Thank God I’ve never been involved in an aircraft accident while on duty, but it’s a possibility every time I go to work. If one of my flights ever did have an accident, and I were in any way responsible (maybe I failed to pass on some information to the crew, or I convinced them to act in a certain way that was unwise), I would probably feel the same soul-crushing numbness that the Titanic captain felt.
  • This film was released in December 1997. About 3 1/2 years later, a few months after I graduated from college, four planes were hijacked in the northeast. Two hit the World Trade Center in New York, one hit the Pentagon, and one was brought down by the passengers in a field in Pennsylvania. I remember watching the footage in a training room at work with a coworker, our jaws hanging open, unable and unwilling to speak, overcome by shock and horror and emptiness. I saw that same vacant look in Ruth Bukater (Rose’s mom) and Molly Brown as they floated in the lifeboat a few hundred yards away, watching their boat break apart and their fellow passengers drown in the icy water.

So even though I’ve now seen the film at least six times, enjoying it in 3D and with a few more years under my belt made it worth three more hours of my time. Entertainment Weekly posted an interesting review of the 3D version, how great both are, and the added relevance certain elements of the film still have in light of recent events such as the Occupy movement and 9/11.

Random Observations from This Weekend

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For Jenny’s birthday weekend, we stayed at a hotel in Addison, enjoyed some great food, slept a lot, and enjoyed getting to talk for long periods. Here are a few observations/factoids/highlights/whatevers:

  1. Tokyo One makes really, really good sushi. It’s a sushi buffet in Addison. Although a bit expensive for dinner, the service is good and the quality and variety of the buffet are outstanding. On their website, you can print a coupon for 10 percent off and a free piece of birthday cake if you eat there within a week of your birthday.
  2. At Tokyo One, I tried several new and weird items: blue marlin (very tender and mild in flavor, although I’m not sure whether it’s a very sustainable food source), jellyfish (looks like grilled onions, tastes like generic seafood when doused in soy sauce like this was), lychee (a strange, brown, tropical fruit with hairlike projections on the outside and sweet white meat inside), and luo han guo or monkfruit (a light brown tropical fruit with sweet white meat inside much like lychee). I seem to have outgrown the picky phase from my younger years in which I would only eat toast and french fries.
  3. Marriott beds are very, very comfortable, almost Tempur-Pedic comfy. Overall, we were very impressed with the Marriott and would stay there again.
  4. I still think it’s cheap and lame to charge hotel guests to park at your hotel. I understand charging non-guests, especially in an urban environment with lots of business people and limited parking spaces, but a parking spot should be included in the price of my room. Both the Marriott and the Anatole charge for parking. The Omni Mandalay in Irving, however, does not.
  5. I continue to be amazed that guys in the men’s locker room at King Spa feel the need to cover their bits with a towel when they walk around, as if their bits are somehow different or special compared to ours. One guy used his hand. Really, dude? That’s what toddlers do when they have to pee.
  6. I saw a guy with a black tramp stamp. Is that weird, or is it just me?
  7. Male…um…grooming habits vary widely from man to man.
  8. I performed a simple heart rate experiment in the spa area. The main hot tubs were 106-108 degrees. The steam room was about 118, the dry sauna maybe 170. While my resting heart rate stays around 60, it rose to maybe 100 or more in those hot areas as my body tried to cool off. Then, after a few minutes in the 65-degree cold plunge, it dropped to around 50 as my body tried to preserve its heat.
  9. We had breakfast Sunday morning at Einstein Brothers, one of our favorite breakfast places. A man and his sevenish-year-old son were in line ahead of us. First, the dad yelled at him not to touch anything. Next, he criticized him in front of the cashier for putting his pants on backwards, something about being “incapable of seeing the tag in the back”. Finally, they sat down and ate breakfast together. I chose to sit on the other side of the room so I didn’t hear any more, snap, and go off on the guy. I’m not sure they said a word to each other as they ate. As a father myself, I certainly understand getting frustrated and impatient with one’s children and being less kind at times than one should, but tearing a kid down constantly doesn’t do either of you a bit of good.
  10. We walked into 300, an upscale bowling alley (ever heard of that?) in Addison. The furnishings are plush, the menu offers a much broader variety of food and drinks than a typical bowling alley, and giant screens above the pins were showing a Beyonce video and the Final Four game. We would’ve stayed for dinner and a couple of games, but it was really loud and ruined our Zen from King Spa. Maybe some other time. It would be fun with a group of friends.
  11. BJ’s Brewhouse makes a tasty berry cider, great crispy fries, and a really good club sandwich.

Colorblind?

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It’s 2012. The naive side of me wants to think that we live in a colorblind society that views and treats “red and yellow, black and white” equally. But you and I both know that’s not true. Regardless of what actually happened the night of his death, the Trayvon Martin case and our nation’s reaction to it demonstrates otherwise. Perhaps his death was racially motivated, perhaps not. But any time a member of one race kills someone of another, the racial motivation question comes to mind, doesn’t it? A colorblind society wouldn’t view racism as a possible motivation.

Why is race still a consideration? Slavery was abolished over a century ago. Schools were integrated and discrimination against blacks became illegal decades ago. Our current president is half black and half white. Why aren’t we past all this nonsense by now? Despite all our progress in so many areas, we still have racists. Some are open about it. Some are subtle, only revealing their true feelings around like-minded or like-skinned people. Some are mildly racist and don’t even realize it. Even those who try hard not to be racist, like me, still struggle with hidden prejudices and stereotypes that are difficult to shake.

I have a theory. Yes, some people are racist because they’ve actually had bad experiences with members of another race and assume the same for all members of that race. However, more people carry around various forms of racism mainly due to lack of exposure to members of other races.

For example, suppose you’re a 70-year-old white woman who’s grown up surrounded by white people. Your schools were segregated during your education. Blacks drank from different water fountains and swam in separate pools until you were a grown woman. You grew up in West Texas where black people are rare. Your only real impression of black people came from TV or movies in which blacks were either dangerous or inferior. Perhaps your parents and friends gave you a bad impression of them as well. Most likely, lacking any contradictory information, you’ll tend to have a negative opinion of blacks as well.

As an example more specific to DFW, for the last 10-20 years, people of Middle Eastern and Indian (from the nation of India) descent have suffered from the same ignorance. Since these groups were tiny minorities until recently, many people have had very little direct contact with them. It’s easy to assume that all Muslims are a certain way or all Indians are a certain way if you have no reason to believe otherwise and you keep hearing negative things about them from various sources in the media or your friends and family. I once heard an older man badmouthing Arabs (he pronounced the term “A-Rabs”) at length. Based on where and how he lived, I’m not sure he ever met an single “A-Rab” during his entire lifetime. But he had plenty of opinions about them.

Like I said, I’m certainly not perfect in this area, but I try hard to keep an open mind and not rush to conclusions based solely on a person’s race. Why? Partly because that’s what Jesus did during his time on earth. Partly because I’ve been blessed to know a wide variety of people from an assortment of race and nations, giving me firsthand information to combat the negative stereotypes. Here are a few of my non-white friends who I’m proud to know:

High School Tennis

  • Shihab, a Muslim from Bangladesh
  • Biran, a Hindu from Pakistan
  • Reza, a halfhearted Muslim from Iran (I think)
  • Jimmy, a Buddhist from Southeast Asia
  • Nabeel, a Muslim from somewhere in the Middle East

High School Gospel Choir

  • Ebonye, a black soprano singer who also served as class president
  • Steve, a black tenor who helped lead our group
  • Rest of the crew (I was one of a handful of white guys), great singers and great people who didn’t look down on us for having different colored skin

Baylor

  • Ali and Akbar, both Muslim computer science majors
  • Elle, a black woman from my interdisciplinary program who is an authentic African princess but never let on or expected special treatment

Work

  • Marvin, Doug, Chris, and Chris, all black men
  • Miguel and Stephanie, both Hispanic
  • Ashvina, an Indian woman
  • Lin and Gene, both Asian men

I’m sure you get the point by now. When I hear someone say Muslims are evil terrorists, I think of Ali, who couldn’t blow someone up if his salvation depended on it. When I hear people say black people are lazy, I think of Chris, who works two jobs and put himself through school while helping to support his wife and three kids. While stereotypes might apply to some people within a group, I personally know people who break many of those stereotypes, enough to know it’s foolish to assume all people of a certain race (or religion, gender, sexual orientation, occupation, nationality, etc.) are the same.

I’m a bit concerned about my children, though. Although Jenny and I will teach our boys not to judge people based on their race, and I haven’t heard them even mention the different colors of skin, the public schools in our district are overwhelmingly white. Perhaps we have ourselves to blame; we chose to live here partly for the well-regarded schools. But they won’t receive the benefit of a highly multiracial school like I did. They could fall into the common trap of making racial judgments about people due to simple ignorance. We may need to work hard to counteract that tendency and make sure they don’t spend their entire lives surrounded only by people who look like they do.

We cannot be blind to the colors of our skin. Perhaps we shouldn’t, since true colorblindness would prevent us from recognizing and benefiting from the differences in our heritage, culture, and other gifts. But we can fight the urge to make assumptions based upon a person’s skin color. If we can blind ourselves to preconceived notions about what someone of a certain race is like, we’ll take a big step toward eliminating some of the nastiness that still simmers beneath the surface of our society.

Socializing as a Married Couple

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I am a hermit.

As I’ve described in another post, I am both introverted (I draw my energy from within and need alone time to recharge) and shy (hesitant to speak up and reach out to others). A night alone in a quiet house with a movie or video game sounds great to me the vast majority of the time. Being around people adds a host of pressures to say the right thing, impress and entertain people, be polite and responsible, etc. As a younger man, I viewed my shyness as a liability. As an adult, at some point I decided to put on my Lady Gaga meat dress and accept that I was Born This Way.

However, I married a non-hermit.

Jenny isn’t one of those people who can’t stand to be alone and need to be out partying with someone whenever possible. However, she’s a slight extrovert, enjoys spontaneous social activities, and needs regular interaction with other adults besides me. The boys can be lots of fun and very loving, but sometimes it’s nice to be able to discuss something other than poop, Pop-Tarts, and Phineas and Ferb.

So we are a mismatched couple in terms of socializing. Now what?

We’ve worked out a pretty good compromise. She tries not to surprise me at 4:00pm by booking us for a 6:00pm dinner date. She doesn’t host parties every night or drag me out to do stuff with people constantly. We’re already fairly busy in the evening with church Sunday nights, class for her on Mondays and Wednesdays, and home group every other Tuesday. It’s nice to have some nights free to spend time together with the boys and just the two of us. These days you’ll often find me playing Skyrim and Jenny happily buried in a book on her Kindle after the boys are in bed.

In return, we try to plan time in advance to spend with other people so that I have time to mentally prepare. One or both of us go out to dinner and/or coffee with our crew on Sundays after church. Every other week we host home group with the same people, some of our closest friends. We try to plan other excursions as well, such as having people over for dinner, going to sporting events or shows, and various parties for birthdays and other celebrations. It’s cool with me as long as I know in advance and get some recharge time soon before or after. With the boys and school, we aren’t quite as socially active as Jenny probably wants to be, but we’re doing OK and both happy with the balance we’ve found.

Some couples are both extroverts or both introverts. Others are opposite from us with an outgoing guy and an introverted girl. What’s the situation for you and your significant other? How do you handle socializing in a way that makes both sides feel respected, happy, and comfortable?