Why I won’t vilify princess play

The first time my daughter came home and said “we played princesses today at school” I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes.

She had yet to see any Disney movies, so she didn’t truly know what princesses were. But at four years-old, her peers did, and those influences can be strong.

As a feminist parent, I don’t loooove the princess thing. When I was kid, princesses were beautiful, but a bit helpless, and always waiting to be saved.

Sure, with the advent of Brave, Moana, and Frozen – female characters more focused on adventure than romance – things have evolved in recent years. Which leads me to wonder, “can’t we just make movies about regular girls? Do they all have to be princesses?” But our collective fixation on princesses continues – from random strangers to bumper stickers to our obsession with Kate Middleton and Meghan Markle.

Despite my mixed feelings about princesses, I will not vilify princess play.

I WON’T DISPARAGE PRINCESSES TO MY DAUGHTER

And here’s why. Most parents fed up with gender stereotypes recognize that, while girls have seemingly more options today (you can wear nail polish AND play soccer; you can don a tutu AND play ninjas!) the same isn’t true for boys. Except for a few determined, open-minded parents, boys are still mostly constrained to traditional masculinity expectations.

Girly stuff is bad, boys hear.

That’s not for you, that’s pink.

Be tough, you’re fine, they hear.

For us to reach true gender equity, traditionally feminine stuff cannot be viewed as inferior.

I don’t want my daughter to believe that toys, clothes, or games traditionally associated with femininity are bad or inferior. I don’t want to her to feel that her play is somehow wrong. It’s not. Pretend play is not just developmentally appropriate, but extraordinarily healthy for children, (even though some say play based on real-life adult activities is more helpful than fiction.)

Moreover, if I disparaged princess play, I would, by association, disparage her friends; the little kids who created the princess game at school. And that’s surely not my intention. As all parents know, one seemingly negative comment about a friend can make your child ultra-defensive and diminish what they share with you.

HOW TO APPROACH PRINCESS PLAY AS A FEMINIST PARENT

Approach princess play with curiosity

First, get basic. Ask what “princess play” means. I was pleasantly surprised when my daughter told me that princess play with her friends involved using superpowers to shoot ice all over the ground (Frozen, obviously). It apparently did not include dressing up for the ball, or waiting around for a prince. Phew!

Play along

That means you too, Dad! You probably remember the Orjan Buroe video from last year, in which he and his son danced with unbridled joy to “Let it Go,” dressed in gowns and tiaras. If so, you may have shed a tear, too.

Pretend play is not always my favorite – I’d rather build something – but when you open yourself up to your child’s pretend world, you gain insight into their real world. Children use pretend play to act out scenarios in their lives, as well as “try on” personas very different from themselves.

Expand their ideas for princess play

When you engage in pretend play with your child, it’s nice to let them lead with creativity and imagination. But it also gives you an opportunity as a parent to sprinkle in new ideas. For example, when my daughter reenacted the ice powers she learned from friends, I added other ideas for special powers that she hadn’t thought of yet. Perhaps I can fly really fast! Or maybe I can create invisible walls! Open up their ideas for what’s possible.

Include boys in princess play

If you and your family members purchase dress-up gowns and tiaras for girls, buy them for the boys in your life, too. If we are truly working to break down gender stereotypes, this type of play should be equally available to boys.

Use princesses as an opportunity for media literacy and body image conversations

If you DO watch current films with princesses, be sure to engage your children in conversations about media literacy and body image. Hopefully you’ve already begun to discuss with your children that all bodies are good bodies, and everyone looks different. (Grab our free body image guide here.)

When you see an animated film where men have all different size heads, bodies, and noses, but the women look remarkably similar, with extra-large eyes and teeny noses and slim bodies, notice it out loud. If there’s no body diversity, point it out, and ask your children why they think that is.

You don’t need to turn a fun movie into a lecture, but frequent, casual comments will help your children become adept at analyzing media with a critical eye.

Introduce children to real-life princesses

What does it mean to be an actual princess today? Sure, sometimes they dress up for fancy occasions, but many princesses spend lots of time in the community listening to people’s concerns and helping people who need it.

Discuss Meghan Markle, who inspired us early on with a new, non-traditional version of royalty. Ultimately though, Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s departure from royal life is significant. The fairy tale doesn’t end at the wedding, as many of us know. Discuss with your children the pressures this couple faced: no alone time, lots of public scrutiny, less freedom to engage in their favorite hobbies, and people saying things that are untrue. Many kids will be sympathetic to those problems, and learn that even princes and princesses have problems, too.

Related: Will Meghan Markle change princess culture?

In the end…

Feminist parenting and princess play are not mutually exclusive. While I strive each day to raise my child outside of restrictive gender stereotypes that can heavily influence their world, I support her ability to experiment with a variety of play and with new friends.

We can’t wrap our children in a bubble (even though, occasionally I’m tempted). Instead, we can help them expand their world as they try on new personas, even princesses.

Most of all, I just want my daughter to learn that she can save herself.