Knowing that I’m going to be moderating a panel tonight on boys and gender identity (see details here; hope you can join us), I’ve been thinking a lot about my own boy, now 11. He’s such a sweetie, except when he’s not. He’s such a jock, except when he isn’t. Like myself, I hope he’ll end up an appreciative beneficiary of a society in which men and women are encouraged to be open to the rainbow of emotional differences and personal preferences in themselves and in others—but, man, it ain’t always easy.
This year he tried to broaden his friend group a bit, and then had to deal with some blow-back. It reminded me of some of my own social struggles as kid. It also helped me see that he’s getting to an age where, often, the best way I can help him is by listening, relating, and suggesting, but not intervening.
Today, I’m also thinking a lot about my daughter, who’s turning 15. You know how it goes: One day you’re holding them in your arms, the next they’re in high school building their reputations for good punning. Next year, as sophomores, all the kids get to put nicknames or personal sayings, on their school t-shirts. Thinking of our last name—Messinger—one of the phrases she’s considering is: “A Hot Mess.”
She won’t do it; it’s not her style, but I love that she’s beginning to joke about herself that way.
It seems that we’ve successfully launched one self-composed and open-minded child into the world.
With one more on the way, hopefuly.
Eric Messinger is the editor of New York Family. He can be reached at emessinger@manhattanmedia.com.
