Friday, October 4, 2013

Blurred Lines

Like so many others, I am a creature of habit. My wife may think it occasionally borders on OCD, and she’s not wrong. Recently, I tweaked (I might have to retire the use of “tweak” as it’s just way too close to “twerk” but I digress) my bedtime routine. I used to just put on the television, and find something that was just interesting enough that I didn't want to flip the channel, but lacked action and humor. Usually it ended up with me watching an episode of “Lockup” or “Drugs Inc.” Then, in an effort to make it easier for my wife to fall asleep, I swapped an iPad in place of the television.

Now I look for documentaries that fit the bill; interesting enough that it holds my attention for 20 minutes, but not so interesting that it gives me a second wind. Last night I found Miss Representation.  Miss Representation is a documentary that delves into how the media portrays women, and how that impacts young girls to teens, to women and even men. See, it doesn't even sound all that enthralling, right? Sure, I've noticed how almost every commercial includes a beautiful woman and her beauty is the focus of the spot, no matter if the ad itself is selling perfume or a hamburger.

But what really hooked me, was listening to a group of high school girls talk about their stories. Hearing tales of how they worried about their weight in 5th grade. As well as the stories about how harsh women are to each other. It really struck a chord with me, as a father, husband, uncle, son, brother and as a compassionate human-being. I couldn't help but think about how we could diminish the impact of the onslaught of images and influences the Kyd sees on a daily basis. Unfortunately, and predictably, I haven’t been able to come up with a silver bullet. Instead, I've decided that I’ll sit and watch Miss Representation with down with my wife and daughter. I’ll do my best to not say anything. I’m sure the Kyd will be plenty embarrassed by all the shots of cleavage and skimpy outfits. It’ll be hard for me to keep my lips sealed, but I’m hoping she takes away two thoughts.

One, it’s all crap. Her worth isn't derived from her body. Winning the adoration of a boy isn't the end game, and she should never sell herself short for any reason.

Secondly, I want her to know that I’m aware of the burden society puts on her and her friends. Then maybe one day down the road when I make a crack about how she’ll never be allowed to wear the house in a skirt as short as the one that girl over there is wearing, isn’t about me wanting to prevent her from attracting boys or because I want her to be afraid of sex. I just want her to be seen for the smart, funny, talented, beautiful, compassionate, and creative young woman she is. And more than wanting her to be seen that way, I want her to see herself as smart, funny, talented, beautiful, compassionate and creative young woman she is.


Maybe she’ll start to understand why I refuse to listen to Miley Cyrus’ latest song, when it comes on the radio when we’re on our way to volleyball practice. And maybe I need to turn the channel the next time a Victoria’s Secret commercial comes on during the basketball game we’re watching. Or maybe I just need to be sure she hears me compliment her, as well as her mother’s sense of humor, intelligence and kind heart.

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