As a young girl I was always considered a tomboy! I loved that title, and I still hold on to some of the characteristics of that identity. Looking closely at the description of this well earned label I received as a youngster, I see it’s not as glamorous and appealing to other people as it was and always will be for me. Unsurprisingly to me, the definition of a tomboy is a girl who acts or dresses in a boyish way, liking rough outdoor activities. I love that description. However, it was my sister that first communicated to me the expectations of ones gender, and why being a tomboy was not something she could identify with. She was the total opposite of a tomboy. The most extreme girly girl you could ever imagine. I never wanted any hand me downs because they were all dresses and frilly accessories.
It all started when my sister begged my mother and father for an afro! I couldn’t understand why my sister being so vain would want to cut all of her hair off? I guess Angela Davis had a very serious Impact on the youth back in the early 70’s. My sister got her wish and I’m here to tell you, she hated her hair cut! She cried the whole morning after returning from the barber shop. I thought her hair was fine and she still looked just as pretty as she did the night before. I asked my sister why she was crying, sitting in her window like a lost soldier, and she replied. “Tonia I look like a boy!” I was taken back because I never once thought she looked like a boy. She was my sister and that’s all I saw sitting in front of me crying like a freak.
According to the experts at Wikipedia, gender roles refer to the set of social and behavioral norms that are widely considered to be socially appropriate for individuals of a specific sex. To make that easier to understand, my sister felt as if her afro, made her look like a little boy, and because of this, she totally freaked out! If only we lived in the Philippines with the Agta tribe where an afro and keen hunting abilities are ideal for the women of this ethnic group. It wasn’t until that day I felt somewhat embarrassed about my nick name. I was called a tomboy all of the time, and it wasn’t until I saw my sister act like it was the end of the world, that I felt a little sad and confused. My sadness didn’t last long and, I did get my parents to take us to Elitch Gardens, the local amusement park so that I could cheer my sister up with an afternoon of no holds gender!
After many hours of good entertainment and fun and jokes, my sister was finally getting over the shock of her new look and before we left the park I suggested we ride the Ferris wheel. She was totally down for the ride and seeing the smile on her face made the sorrow of getting on the last ride of the day feel overwhelmingly acceptable.
We’re the next two people in line ready to board the ride and the ticket taker guy asked me “Are you ready to ride the Ferris wheel with your brother?” OMG! Why did he say that? Being the outspoken little six year old that I was I yelled at him “She’s not my brother, she’s my sister!” We’re able to laugh uncontrollably now, but until my sister’s hair grew back she was miserable which made my life of being the family tomboy not as enjoyable. In life we learn early what our gender roles and expectations are. Whether right or wrong, I was okay with being connected with being called a boy. However, I had an older sister that would have probably died if she actually heard anyone say boy and her name in the same sentence.
In conclusion, we are able to laugh at the whole story now but the funniest thing was recently my gay uncle was at my grandmothers house with all of the family sitting around looking at old family photo albums, laughing and reminiscing. My uncle asked me and my sister “Who’s this cute little boy?” It was the picture of my sister that school year with her new afro, we both cracked up and through the laughter, I yelled at him “That’s not a little boy it’s my sister!”
