Skip to content

On Leftism And Parenting

19 May 2014 @ 20:01

WARNING: It Ain’t Pretty…

THE MOTHER:

Former Lesbian [!] and still Socialist, New York City’s First Womyn Chirlane McCray, tells New York Magazine in a interview:

NYPost-Cover-20140519x

Given her resume and biography, I’m not surprised — are you?

More…from the New York Post, Bruce Golding reporting, we get the straight [pun intended] poop:

New York City’s first lady, Chirlane McCray, didn’t much care for her new role as a mother after daughter Chiara was born — and looked for any excuse to keep away from her little girl.

In a startlingly frank confession, Mayor Bill de Blasio’s wife says she was unable to embrace motherhood and initially neglected Chiara, who last year dropped the bombshell that she was in treatment for abusing booze and pot.

“I was 40 years old. I had a life. Especially with Chiara — will we feel guilt forevermore? Of course, yes,” McCray told New York magazine for its cover story this week.

“But the truth is, I could not spend every day with her. I didn’t want to do that. I looked for all kinds of reasons not to do it.”

I guess ‘The Cause’ was too important…and, as we know, everything and everyone must be sacrificed, if necessary, for it.  Can’t let an insignificant thing like a daughter — who, you know, she could have aborted, I’m just sayin’ — interfere with bringing about Heaven On Earth!

Also: raging Narcissism’s a bitch, ain’t it?

THE FATHER AND MOTHER:

From the same NYP report:

The disclosure — bound to horrify most moms — shatters the carefully crafted image of de Blasio’s close-knit family, which helped vault him into office.

So…a family of Leftists lied by claiming they were just like any normal family…hmmm.  You know, Lefties, when you’re going to present yourself as being Normal, you always face a big problem: by embracing Leftism, you’re by definition Abnormal, so you really have to keep working to perpetuate your Big Lie 24/7/365 — you can never rest because there will always be some Visigothian Hobbit out there who might expose you for the frauds you are [it would be sooooo much easier, wouldn’t it, eh, if you could make us STFU — with extreme prejudice?].

I feel somewhat sorry for the DiBlasio’s daughter who, obviously, has been brainwashed into a heavy state of denial:

In Chiara’s surprise Christmas Eve video confession, she let her parents off the hook for her alcohol and drug problems, which she blamed on “clinical depression” that she’s suffered since adolescence.

“My mom was trying really hard to help me, just like, you know, any little thing she could,” Chiara, 19, said in the video produced by her father’s campaign adman.

“I mean, my dad was doing the same, but obviously, he was really busy. But, you know, they were both very emotionally committed to trying to figure out some way to get me better.”

How frigging sad is that?

ANOTHER FATHER:

Darleen Click believes that Andy Hinds, of The Beastly Daily, may have seen the light.

Some highlights from his column, Why I Finally Let My Girls Be Girly:

Yesterday, I bought my almost-5-year-old twin girls their first “big-kid” bikes, complete with chromoly steel frames, 16-inch wheels, coaster brakes, riser bars and knobby tires. Also: pastel pink-and-lavender paint jobs, festooned with hearts and flowers.

I wish I could say that the paint jobs on the bikes were an inescapable product of the hyper-gendered marketing of kids’ toys—which is a real and powerful thing, by the way—and that I had no other options. But the truth is that I could have gotten comparable bikes in green, orange, blue, or any number of gender-fluid colors. At one point, I had half-heartedly directed them to a candy-apple red beach cruiser with flames on the fenders, which I would have ridden with pride at their age (or, like, now), knowing all the while what their response would be. “That’s a boy’s bike,” they sang out in condescending unison, following up with an exchange of the familiar “Daddy is so silly” look.

Every time I find myself watching my girls make choices that are stereotypically “girly,” I flash back to a scene just a few years before they were born. I was in graduate school, involved in a lively discussion about the rhetoric of architecture. The details of the conversation are unimportant, but it ended with me appealing to my fellow progressive eggheads, “We all know gender is socially constructed anyway, right?”

I think, at that moment, I actually believed what I had just said. Not just that the notions and valuations of “masculine” and “feminine” were tools of patriarchal oppression; but that all gender differences aside from the obvious physical ones were constructs created and perpetuated, consciously or otherwise, to reinforce social structures.

My belief that gender was socially constructed certainly had more to do with my politics than any review of the science on the matter; but as a childless grad student (and later, adjunct Rhet/Comp professor) married to a brainy, ambitious physician, I found no significant challenges to this element of my worldview.

And then my wife became pregnant with twin girls.

The heaps of gifted and hand-me-down pink frilly clothes and accessories grew far faster than we were able to sort and store them. Bins labeled according to season and size were stuffed, closed, and eventually buried as silky, ruffly, and lacey items with slogans like, “Daddy’s Girl,” “Princess,” and (this was just weird) “Jesus’ Li’l Snugglebunny” continued to pile up. By the time they were born, the room that was supposed to have been their nursery looked like a Komen For The Cure race had thrown up on it.

The profusion of pink paraphernalia only strengthened my resolve to undermine society’s gender messages. I would make parenting into a subversive act by encouraging my girls to be rough-and-tumble, grass-stained, fort-building, frog-chasing, risk-taking, dungaree-wearing, princess-shunning adventurers! But, for the time being, they could wear pink frilly stuff. They were too young to be poisoned by gender norms at that point; and besides, the pink clothes were free.

My wife went back to work when the girls were 4 months old, and I took over the bulk of the daily child care. I began sifting through the clothes to find browns, greens, and reds when I dressed them in the morning, despite my own involuntary “Oh my God, that’s adorable” response to seeing them in pastels. Frills were kept to a minimum, and anything in the clothes piles with the word “Princess” on it ended up in the giveaway box. I wouldn’t let anything—even my own melting heart—distract me from my mission.

There is a stage that usually starts between ages 1 and 2, wherein children begin to develop sartorial sentience. We could call this the “Hell No I’m Not Wearing That” stage.

At 18 months, my daughters started caring about what they wore. A lot. And what they wanted was pink and purple, to the exclusion of every other color. The occasional yellow or red was acceptable, but the suggestion of a blue dress was met with distress, and brown was anathema. For a while, I could get them to wear jeans or shorts with T-shirts; and then they realized that if they screamed enough, I would relent and put them in dresses. Spending time with toddlers is an exercise in choosing battles, and this was one I was willing to concede.

During this time, the girls were also developing preferences in what they played with. Early on, we had been conscientious about providing them with gender-neutral toys like blocks, balls, and puzzles. But as they learned more words, they began to gravitate toward narrative-driven, imaginative play, and became less interested in running and throwing. These predilections corresponded to the kind of research about gender differences in children that I would have dismissed as flawed or irrelevant in my social-constructivist days. In fact, I didn’t need to read any studies to see how misguided I had been—I only needed to watch, at self-segregated parties and preschool, boys the same age as my girls as they wrestled, threw mulch, weaponized inanimate objects, and obsessed over machinery while the girls colored, talked about clothes, and pretended to be families of kitty-cats or ponies.

As soon as my daughters got to the point where they could communicate their desires and feelings, that’s when I could see that there is something more than patriarchy behind the idea that there are “typical” gender differences. I knew that my wife and I had not been rewarding the girls for acting “feminine” and discouraging them from taking interest in “masculine” pursuits. They just liked what they liked, which happened to correspond to what a lot of other little girls liked. Likewise, many of our progressive-minded friends and relatives had little kids who were also developing very gendered interests. The young son of a gentle, peacenik, sports-agnostic couple is a rabid football fan who revels in the violent theater of the gridiron. The daughter of two moms who dressed her in brown until she started caring now wears princess costumes pretty much every day. Of course, not every kid fits neatly into one gender profile or the other; but at least among preschoolers, the differences are very pronounced. And while it’s certainly true that even preschoolers pick up on social cues about gender norms, it’s hard not to believe that there’s something more than peer pressure drawing them to distinctly different areas of interest and activity.

So, I have come around—belatedly—to what everyone else seems to have known forever: that girls and boys have, in general, some different interests, tastes, and aptitudes. [BOB: Duuuuuuuh!] Obviously, this doesn’t mean that I’m now going to become a Pageant Dad and discourage my girls from their burgeoning interests in astronomy and paleontology. But my dunderheaded journey from social constructivist to believer that social and biological elements interact to create what we know as gender traits has been valuable. I can see the danger of gender determinism. It’s tempting to get lazy and automatically push girls toward ballet (ahem) and boys toward football, without letting them know that there are other options, and the same goes for academic pursuits. If I hadn’t tried and failed to subvert gender stereotypes in my early parenting, my girls would probably still have the same color bikes and go to the same ballet class; but I might not be teaching them to pound nails and build electrical circuits as well.

Darleen remarks: ‘Maybe Mr. Hinds will now question whatever other Leftist shibboleths he holds’.

I’ll believe it when I see it.  Trust but verify — especially with Beta Male Commies.

Regarding this Andy Hinds fellow…

1) It’s always interesting to watch a parrot apparatchik being confronted with Reality. You wonder: will his carefully built, but fragile, house of cards of Ideology collapse and burn? Or will he flush his Salvation as a Human Being and as a Man, down the sewer of willful blindness.

And, if the former, will he lose his already ill mind?

I can no longer eat popcorn, so would you mind if I just stuck to Junior Mints?

2) Who TF uses a nickname like ‘Andy’ as their byline once they’re over the age of thirty? I had much trouble supporting Scooter Libby when he was unjustly targeted by the Despots because how can you take a grown man seriously who lets himself be called ‘Scooter’?

3) Am I nuts for believing that Andy is never on top?

4) Am I nuts for frequently mumbling to myself these days: ‘Lord, kill me now’?

11 Comments
  1. 19 May 2014 @ 20:25 20:25

    In answer to 4, sadly, yes. There needs to be a chronicle of our civilizational suicide, and you’re part of it.

  2. 19 May 2014 @ 20:29 20:29

    My feminist sister-in-law wanted to raise her daughter without all of the girly stuff. At nineteen months the girl loves pink, dresses and baby dolls. Even a degree in Psychology with a minor in Women’s Studies isn’t enough to brainwash your own kid.

    It’s quite funny.

    • Starless permalink
      19 May 2014 @ 23:44 23:44

      Hey, your children are a political statement, dontcha know? As that well-known philosopher and tampon earring aficionado, Melissa Harris-Paris-Perry-Harry, explained, our children don’t belong to us, they belong to the “community”, and if you can’t properly brainwash them, then you’ve failed the Cause.

  3. Starless permalink
    19 May 2014 @ 23:33 23:33

    You know what’s a social construct? Biological males who preen and pose, grow beards for the sake of fashion, know the finicky details of food (“Oh, my! Is that a hint of balsamic vinegar I taste?”), really get into home decorating, say things like “Oh, my God, that’s adorable!” and don’t immediately feel burning shame, and drive a vehicle for any reason other than practicality or for the purpose of making a woman tingle when he stomps on the accelerator. (I swear, I wanna punch that guy who narrates the Subaru commercials right in the larynx.)

    Anyway, if it took that guy five years to figure out that girls, generally, want to be girly just because they’re girls, then he’s a f*cking idiot.

    • 19 May 2014 @ 23:40 23:40

      I prefer the term ‘ignoramus’ in this case.

      • Starless permalink
        19 May 2014 @ 23:45 23:45

        Would “chowderhead” do?

        • thecampofthesaints permalink
          20 May 2014 @ 07:13 07:13

          You’re being too kind.

          On Mon, May 19, 2014 at 11:45 PM, The Camp Of The Saints wrote:

          >

  4. 20 May 2014 @ 07:47 07:47

    Motherhood is what the patriarchy wants! Down with the patriarchy! Down with ableism! Down with….um….hold on…give me a minute….as a leftist you see there is so much in racist patriarchal America to hate. I’ll think of something.

    • thecampofthesaints permalink
      20 May 2014 @ 08:05 08:05

      Take your time, Comrade – the world is our regulated oyster.

      On Tue, May 20, 2014 at 7:47 AM, The Camp Of The Saints wrote:

      >

Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: