By Matthew Cantor, The Guardian, September 24, 2021
When I was seven years old, a classmate informed me that a girl who acted like a boy was known as a tomboy. But a boy who acted like a girl, my laughing friend said, was just a “sissy”.
I was a kid who adored choir practice but wanted to melt when a fly ball was hit my way, and the comment stuck with me. It was clear there were codes of conduct that I was supposed to abide by,and everyone around me seemed to have an intuitive sense of what they were. Superheroes, laser tag, books about sword-wielding mice – really anything with sufficient violence was a desirable activity for a boy. Acknowledging the genius of Hanson or playing with my sister’s Fantastic Flowers paper-cutting set, however, were best avoided.
My childhood self took all this as an affront: why was it a badge of pride for a girl to play sports, but a source of shame for a boy to join the cheerleading squad?
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