When I became a mother, I was suddenly more aware of the threats to my child. I began carrying Purelle around with me. I asked anyone who wanted to hold her, if there was anyone in their household who was sick. I watched for runny noses, cringed when I heard coughs and sneezes. I made most of her baby food so I would know exactly what was going into her food and then into her belly. I changed my tv habits knowing that while she might not be able to say the words she was hearing, I didn’t want the vulgarities to still even have a place in her mind.
There are still the constants. I still despise Barney with my whole soul, so much that I aspire to design a Barney skin rug, complete with green spots and a tail. Next to it would be a small red one with googley eyes; perhaps on this one I would add tire marks. (Sometimes Grown Up jokes keep Mommy sane.)
But there was one threat I didn’t expect: the Princesses. When the Princesses started making it big – and by Princesses I mean the standard four: Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Belle, and Cinderella, though Ariel and Tiana sometimes show up, like first and second alternates in a competition - I thought, rather foolishly, that I’d be able to avoid them. They’re just Disney. They won’t be THAT huge. No big deal.
I forgot who I was dealing with. This is DISNEY. The company that owns ABC, CNN, the Disney Channel, the Muppets, at least six theme parks, a cruise line, not to mention film companies. Their name itself is tied to Family Friendly, Child Safe, Wholesome material for all. It also includes World Domination. But that’s only in the fine print.
And when Disney decides to do something, be it sell a movie, or sell product, Disney goes gung ho, and whoever gets in their way, gets put into the Haunted Mansion as one of the dancing ghosts forever and ever. If you were very naughty, you get to be one of the floating heads in the jars.
Let me back up though. This is not an I hate Disney tirade. I have an incredibly soft spot in my heart for Disney World. We went every year as a family to the Magic Kingdom and EPCOT. I spent three blissfully happy days there with my family every Thanksgiving, going on every ride, getting autographs, and running around like I owned the joint. I even aspired to work there one day. It really was the Happiest Place on Earth. I look forward to when I can take my own family to Disney World and share with them what I so enjoyed as child – even though it seems like half the things I loved then are changed or gone. (RIP 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, The Living Seas pre Nemo, and the DreamFinder from the Journey into Imagination.)
So why the hate for the Princesses?
Somewhere along the lines of growing up, I became the unthinkable. I became a Feminist. Not a Femi-Nazi who burns her bras and verbally emasculates men at every chance she gets, lifts up women like the next superior race while crushing men under her stilettos. Just a friendly, equal rights Feminist. One of those crazy people who think that women are people too, should have an equal chance at things, equal pay, and shouldn’t feel condemned if she chooses to be a mom, or a CEO, or both. Crazy ideas right?
Then enter the Princesses. Those familiar faces, all smiles, all beauty and grace, all fairy tale and crowns. But what else is there?
Not much it seems, except for some very serious Victim Issues, and one case of Stockholm Syndrome.
Cinderella is an abused young woman who requires the help of her fairy godmother to get to a dance where she will meet the prince, with the hopes of falling in love with him, and the pursuant marriage proposal. But then she loses her shoe. Eventually the prince (or the prince’s representative) finds her. But until then she must to be rescued. End of story.
Sleeping Beauty isn’t much better. A beautiful child is cursed by a snubbed guest. She is hidden away, by three fairies who act as teachers and guardians while keeping her in the dark of her past. Aurora (her pre-slumber name) grows up beautiful and lovely. Until she pricks her finger on the spindle of the spinning wheel and zonks out for a hundred years, until a prince braves the fortress and recues her and kills the dragon. She does nothing but sleeps. That’s it.
Snow White is a lot like Sleeping Beauty. Too beautiful for her own good. Too innocent and beautiful, she is cast out by her step mother, a death warrant sent out on her by way of the huntsman who stays his hand. Snow White flees, finds a house, and takes refuge there (even though she’s not entirely sure who lives there. At first she thinks they’re children.) The dwarves agree to let her stay as long as she will keep the house, and not let in any strangers. (The Grimms have the dwarves as thieves, Disney made them miners) Of course Snow White doesn’t listen and eats the apple given to her by that strange old hag.. Has no one taught this girl about Stranger Danger? And voila – out like a light. The poison apple bite rolls out of her mouth, so she doesn’t die completely, she’s only “mostly dead.” The dwarves mourn her, make her a very pretty glass casket, and once again appears a wandering prince – funny how they just happen to show up - who is so struck by her beauty, that he kisses her, and wakes her from her mostly dead slumber. We could raise questions of necrophilia, but this is after all a children’s story…. Happily ever after. Again, what does Snow White do? She doesn’t listen to anyone. She is innocent, beautiful, and extremely sleepy. She too has to be rescued.
All of these three women are nothing but victims. Beautiful victims, charming victims, but victims nonetheless. All of them must rely on someone else – often with supernatural powers to do the work for them, until their prince comes along amd picks them up. One kiss, and then with a sigh, each woman smiles satisfied with her lot in life, and rides away on his horse, to go be wife to someone she has barely shared breath with.
Belle is the one I had the most hope for. She’s the daughter of an inventor, always reading, turns down the most popular man in town because he’s a jerk, and sacrifices her freedom for her father’s release. These are all noble and admirable qualities. But most of those things happen in the very beginning of the film. The rest of the film is watching her fall in love with the Beast. But wait, wasn’t the Beast her captor? Isn’t she his captive? Doesn’t that spell out Stockholm Syndrome? A really beautifully orchestrated, choreographed, very well dressed version of Stockholm Syndrome?
Why are these Princesses worthy of being role models? Because they are beautiful? Because they are princesses? Why must every single one of them require help from some sort of supernatural being or beings who end up doing most of the heavy lifting? Why does every woman here need the kiss of the prince to make her whole?
What about Mulan? The girl who doesn’t become a princess, but in the process, saves her troop, her country, and her emperor? She has to work hard, she has to think for herself. She makes decisions that aren’t popular but she sticks by them. She is abandoned by her comrades when they find out the truth but she returns to save them. She has a little bit of help, but it’s almost exclusively in the form of moral support, - like any person should have. Why aren’t we lauding Mulan, and putting her face on bouncy balls, and clothes for little girls? What about her? Is it because she isn’t blonde enough? Is it because there’s no crown? And why is she the only example I can think of that fits this bill?
What about Rapunzel? The girl with long golden hair kept locked away in a tower. She just screams Victim doesn’t she? To a point. But things got awkward, when her witch/step mother cut off her hair and lured the prince up the tower again, only to blind him and throw him out the window. The handsome prince, the one character who by most stock purposes should have been doing the saving was lost and broken. Rapunzel too was cast out, but pregnant. She delivers alone, cares for her children, and in the process comes across her beloved prince. Weeping, maybe out of joy, maybe out of frustration, maybe for joy, she cradles the prince’s head in her lap, and her tears fall on his sightless eyes. Lo and indeed behold, the prince sees again, and beholds his rescuer: his Rapunzel.
What about the other blonde haired woman who walked the jungles, with no qualifications except a driving passion, steely determination, and someone who believed in her, who did everything wrong according to the ‘experts’ and has since one of the leading experts on Chimpanzees, and force to be reckoned with in the areas of conservation, chimpanzees and animal rights? Why is there no Princess Jane Goodall action figure for my child to hang on to?
It’s not a far trip up the family tree to find even closer inspiration. My great grandmother was a suffragette, and secretary to the local chapter. Granted these women were often seen un-ladylike, and un-feminine, but what’s the saying – well behaved women rarely make history. But what good is the making history if those you are working for never know your legacy?
This is why I don’t like the Princesses. Because they are weak. Because they hold up the ideal of wait to be rescued. Someone will come along. Beauty before everything else. These are the things I don’t want to teach my daughter. I don’t want to glorify women who are only victims, who are only valued for their beauty alone. And the role models our daughters are given aren’t strong women, aren’t the suffragettes, aren’t the jungle hiking scientists, the teachers, the nurses, aren’t the mothers who struggle against everything to raise their children.
On my daughter’s first birthday, one of my best friends – an honorary Auntie – sent Molly a gift: a storybook titled “Not One Damsel in Distress,” a collection of folktales from around the world where the girl really is the hero, where she saves the day, makes the tough decisions, and still gets to live happily ever after.
I want her to be strong, to think for herself. I want her to be able to make the hard decisions, to stand by what she thinks is right, even when everyone disagrees with her.
Disney is wonderful, and makes a wonderful myriad of products. But, please Disney, make some better role models for our daughters. There are other stories out there. Don’t teach my daughter that she has to be rescued, has to be a certain type of beautiful, and can’t think for herself. Our daughters deserve better.
