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| Irina Shayk on the offending SI cover. |
Got my Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue last week. Of course, on the cover was a buxom brunette giving a look that would stop traffic. Not really what I'd consider appropriate material for my nearly-5-year-old, but she got to it first. She thought it was Tanya's (all you women's rights activists out there, please notice how many "women's" magazines have women in bikinis on the cover, just like my magazine which some consider soft porn) and insisted on looking at it. It became a lesson for both of us: me figuring out how much shelter I can give my impressionable young daughter when it comes to sexism and the issue of exploitation of women, and her learning about the unrealistic expectations for women in society today.
In any case, it prompted my Wee Wisdom column, which I'll post below. Got some interesting responses from women who thought my parenting skills leave something to be desired when it comes to teaching my daughters.
Everyone's an expert.
Model behavior is sometimes unrealistic
Sophia and I picked up the mail Tuesday and my Sports Illustrated had arrived. The annual swimsuit edition.
"Look, Dad," my 4-year-old said, "Mom's magazine is here."
"No, that's mine," I said, already starting to feel anxious.
Sophia laughed. "Then why does it have a girl on the front?"
Uh-oh.
My curious child insisted on looking at my magazine before I could. She flipped through the entire issue silently, apparently unaffected by anything she saw. I was prepared to answer all possible questions. Why, then, did I feel so guilty? Should I have brazenly stolen the magazine back from my child's hands so she wouldn't be corrupted?
I wouldn't choose to have my children peruse pictures of unrealistically built women wearing unreasonably scant swimsuits on a regular basis. Some of the featured bathing suits are little more than leftover fabric, and I'm still searching for the connection with sports. But Sophia got to it first, and I wasn't about to rip it from her hands just because I could. Remember, this magazine sits clearly visible on newsstands everywhere. Too late for shelter.
I waited for Sophia to ask something about the suggestive poses or the size (or lack thereof) of some of the bathing suits. Instead, she got excited about an advertisement for DirecTV, where two women in bikinis were holding remote controls.
"Dad," she said. "Look at this. That girl has the same remote as us."
I breathed a little easier, but my tension remained.
Sensationalistic and fear-based media have helped create a reactionary society, especially in matters concerning sexuality and body image. But as a parent, I've learned that being impetuous does not contribute to problem-solving. So I planned on turning this into a learning experience.
Once Ella got home from school, my wife, Tanya, and I made a point to explain to our daughters that the models in the magazine were people first and should not be judged on their appearance but their personalities. Their job was to sell bathing suits because they were pretty, but they had the same problems as everyone else. I patted myself on the back, but I still couldn't completely shake the discomfort.
I didn't know if my emotional state was born out of my own tendency toward guilt or genuine concern for my child's emotional health. On one hand, I was confident that 10 minutes of looking at photos of bikini-clad women on a beach would not affect my child more negatively than the typical beer commercial. On the other, I don't want my kids to become desensitized to our culture's penchant for over-sexualization. It's a tough call, for sure.
Later that night, I asked Sophia to point out her favorite picture. With a laugh, she turned to the back cover, another ad: a round chocolate candy wearing high heels and dangling a green M&M bathing suit in her hand.
My anxiety had finally disappeared.
"Look, Dad," my 4-year-old said, "Mom's magazine is here."
"No, that's mine," I said, already starting to feel anxious.
Sophia laughed. "Then why does it have a girl on the front?"
Uh-oh.
My curious child insisted on looking at my magazine before I could. She flipped through the entire issue silently, apparently unaffected by anything she saw. I was prepared to answer all possible questions. Why, then, did I feel so guilty? Should I have brazenly stolen the magazine back from my child's hands so she wouldn't be corrupted?
I wouldn't choose to have my children peruse pictures of unrealistically built women wearing unreasonably scant swimsuits on a regular basis. Some of the featured bathing suits are little more than leftover fabric, and I'm still searching for the connection with sports. But Sophia got to it first, and I wasn't about to rip it from her hands just because I could. Remember, this magazine sits clearly visible on newsstands everywhere. Too late for shelter.
I waited for Sophia to ask something about the suggestive poses or the size (or lack thereof) of some of the bathing suits. Instead, she got excited about an advertisement for DirecTV, where two women in bikinis were holding remote controls.
"Dad," she said. "Look at this. That girl has the same remote as us."
I breathed a little easier, but my tension remained.
Sensationalistic and fear-based media have helped create a reactionary society, especially in matters concerning sexuality and body image. But as a parent, I've learned that being impetuous does not contribute to problem-solving. So I planned on turning this into a learning experience.
Once Ella got home from school, my wife, Tanya, and I made a point to explain to our daughters that the models in the magazine were people first and should not be judged on their appearance but their personalities. Their job was to sell bathing suits because they were pretty, but they had the same problems as everyone else. I patted myself on the back, but I still couldn't completely shake the discomfort.
I didn't know if my emotional state was born out of my own tendency toward guilt or genuine concern for my child's emotional health. On one hand, I was confident that 10 minutes of looking at photos of bikini-clad women on a beach would not affect my child more negatively than the typical beer commercial. On the other, I don't want my kids to become desensitized to our culture's penchant for over-sexualization. It's a tough call, for sure.
Later that night, I asked Sophia to point out her favorite picture. With a laugh, she turned to the back cover, another ad: a round chocolate candy wearing high heels and dangling a green M&M bathing suit in her hand.
My anxiety had finally disappeared.
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