When Psychology Meets Parenting: Understanding Gender Through My Children

When I was at BYU, I was a TA for the class Psychology of Gender and Sexuality. It was one of my favorite psychology courses because the material was fascinating to me.

I remember the chapter on gender socialization and how society teaches children how their gender should perform, dress, act, and behave in various settings. It covered everything from how we talk to mothers about their babies during pregnancy,  just by knowing the baby’s gender,  to the toys and colors that are offered in stores. 

If you ever stroll through Target, it’s interesting to notice the color choices and types of toys in the boys’ and girls’ aisles.

Now, I’ve seen all this research and I do believe it — yet now I have a boy and a girl of my own. And they could not be more stereotypical of all the gender norms.

My four-year-old son loves anything with wheels. He’s loved them since he was a baby. His first word was ball, and his favorite toys have always been his construction vehicles. When we’d go to the park, the boys his age would all be in the sandbox playing with construction toys. I used to joke that there had to be something in the water making all these boys love construction.

My husband and I would laugh, since neither of us pushed construction trucks or trains on him. We reinforced his interests, buying toys he liked or showing him Thomas the Train, but we never introduced the idea ourselves. When I talked to other moms at the park, they shared the same story: their boys were just drawn to it.

Then came our daughter. At first, our apartment was filled with “boy” toys and clothes. We got new clothes for her, but most of the toys were trucks and general baby toys. Watching her develop her own interests has been fascinating to me as both a mom and a therapist.

One of my earliest memories of her identifying with a color was when she got a new pajama set. My husband was helping her get dressed and asked if they were new. They were new and they were pink pajamas with butterflies. She hugged them and smiled. We laughed at how much she loved her clothes, and soon enough, she began to love the color pink. Anytime she wore something pink, she’d smile at it. When she wore a dress, she’d grab the hem and spin. Even her gestures, the way she waved or spoke, were gentler and softer. We were used to the heavy grunts and loud sounds from our son.  When we’d go to the gym, her favorite toy was a baby doll and stroller. She loved feeding her baby with a bottle.

Everything was different.

So how do I combine these two experiences — my education, rooted in empirical research, with what I see unfolding before my eyes?

I think there’s a little truth to both sides. There’s some truth in stereotypes, suggesting they exist for a reason. But there’s also power in how we reinforce ideas about gender — in the words we use and the examples we set for our children.

Just this morning, as I was helping my son put on his shoes, he told me, “Mom, you can’t like trains because you’re a girl.” I asked him why, and he simply repeated the idea that girls weren’t allowed to like trains.

It caught me off guard. We’ve never defined what boys or girls can like or dislike when it comes to toys or interests. So where did this idea come from? Did a friend say something? Did he notice that his baby sister doesn’t play trains with him?

As a mom and a therapist, I’m realizing that nature and nurture are constantly at play, a dance between who our children are and what the world tells them to be.

Knowing this I think is a good reminder to be aware of how we talk to our children about their gender and identity. Sure, it may seem small when we are talking about whether or not girls can like trains. I reminded my son that he has friends who are girls who love to play trains with him. I wasn't concerned about this idea now, but it matters down the road, when we teach and reinforce larger concepts.

Each day, I’m reminded that understanding gender isn’t about proving a theory, it’s about staying curious about the small ways our kids show us who they are.