Piercing the Double Standards

My eight year-old approached me the other day with a request. "Mom, I want to get my ears pierced."

"Oh." I was stumped as to what to say. "Um...why?"

"Because they look nice. Cool."

I hesitated. "I don't know...."

"Hayley got them when she was six. I'm eight."

Good point, I thought. And for those of you reading this, you might be thinking: Gee, what is wrong with this woman? Why would she allow one kid to pierce their ears at age six but is hedging over the eight year-old's request?

Because the eight year-old is a boy. That's why.

I have never allowed my children's interests to be dictated by gender stereotypes. My daughter will be the first to admit that she loved playing with Matchbox cars when she was little (still does sometimes) and my son is always ready to sit down and play Barbies with the three year-old. Nail polish adorns the fingers and toes of all three children in our household and it doesn't faze me in the slightest.

But earrings? I hated to admit it, but I just wasn't sure. Not because I didn't think he was ready for them or because he wasn't old enough; no, I was concerned about what people might think. If he would be teased. If people would think he was too feminine...too soft. But this was something he really wanted. My greatest hope for my kids is that they remain happy and true to themselves, regardless of what others might think, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to put these thoughts into action.

Still,I decided to ask for opinions. After all, I thought, who better to turn to than family and friends? Family and friends who have their own kids, or who are still kids themselves. I was ready for a wide range of opinions but what I wasn't prepared for was the vehemence of those views, the passion with which people expressed their opinions. I had no idea one small hole could create such a stir.

Some people said to just tell him no. Because I said so, because he was a boy. Those responses didn't sit well with me. I have never been the type of mom to say "Because I said so!" when my kids asked for a reason why. Well...not very often, anyway. And for a decision of this magnitude, it was definitely not an option. I looked at the second choice: Because he's a boy. Hmmm. I didn't like that one, either. Why do there have to be double standards for boys and girls? Why is one thing considered acceptable (by society's standards) for girls but not for boys, and vice versa? Because, I realized, this is what I was dealing with. Not whether or not he was old enough, or responsible enough to take care of them. His sister got earrings when she was six; why shouldn't he be able to? Why should it be any different for him?

A friend of mine said double standards are a fact of life. He was quick to ask, "If he wanted to wear make-up or put on a dress, would you let him?" Actually, I would. And he has. He has two sisters and a mom who adore make-up; what kid wouldn't want to emulate the people he's around all day long? For me to deny him the fun of reddening his cheeks or dabbing on sparkly eye shadow seemed like an unnecessary cruelty. It was harmless fun, as far as I was concerned. Does he wear make-up outside of the house? No. If he did, would I allow it? Sure.

Other people emailed me about how ridiculous they thought earrings looked on boys, or if I'd given any thought to the fact that people might (gasp!) think he was gay. Aren't looks a matter of opinion, I thought? I mean, I see boys with shaved heads or girls coming back from Caribbean vacations, their hair twisted into hundreds of mini braids, and I cringe. I don't like those particular looks but other people clearly do. I would never think to tell someone not to do it, simply because it wasn't my cup of tea.

As for the gay comment, my first thought was, "So what?" I love my kids as whole beings -- regardless of their gender, sexual orientation, IQ,...you name it. If a person chooses to judge someone simply by what they think their sexual orientation might be, I don't want to spend much time with said person. Close-mindedness is the biggest turn-off I can think of. Besides, does wearing an earring make a man gay? Is it some universal symbol of gayness I'm not aware of? Um, last time I checked, it wasn't. So if straight men can wear earrings, can't boys wear them too?

Still others pointed out that, at age eight, how can he really know if this is something he wants, if an earring is something he'll want to wear forever? Well, unlike tattoos, earrings aren't exactly permanent fixtures on a person's body. They can be taken out. And, again, it went back to the double standard: what if a girl changed her mind? Did any parent ask their daughter to think carefully about her decision to pierce her ears, to ponder the ramifications of not wanting them years later, to mull over the fact that she might have scarred lobes for the rest of her life? No parent I knew did that; in fact, I knew more moms who marched their daughters in to the nearest Piercing Pagoda to get the deed done, regardless of what that child wanted. So what if he changed his mind later? I was fine with that.

To balance the scales, there were several supportive family and friends, people who said there was nothing wrong with earrings on boys, who said he would look cute, who urged me to support him and to thumb our noses at society's decree of what was considered "acceptable." And I was grateful.

In fact, I was grateful for all of the responses I received because it really helped me define my role as a parent. I am here to support my children, to help them along on the precipitous path toward adulthood. There are some decisions I am going to have to make for them -- they obviously cannot eat cookies for every meal of the day, or skip brushing their teeth altogether, or watch R-rated movies -- but there are other decisions they will have to make for themselves. I can offer advice and I can offer my opinion but, ultimately, the choice will be theirs. I decided my son getting his ears pierced was going to be one of them.

I approached him the next day about the earrings. I told him my concerns: he would have to take care of them and leave them in for at least six weeks; he might get teased by kids and grown-ups; they might get infected and he would have to deal with that. All of this was told in a very matter-of-fact voice; I did not judge and when he asked for my opinion, I told him I thought he would look just fine with earrings. Cute.

"So," I said, standing up from the couch. "Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?"

"To get your ears pierced." I glanced at my watch. "We've got three hours before soccer starts. We can make it to the mall and back."

"But --"

"Come on," I said. "Let's go."

He balked. "Wait. I think I want to think about it." He frowned at me. "This is a pretty big decision, you know."

I did know. But, I thought as I smiled to myself, at least it was going to be his.