As a kid, I was gifted so many Barbie dolls that I didn't want. I never really did manage to playing nice for play dates with the girls in my class, with whom I was supposed to be building friendships to last a life time. Occasionally, I'd find another tomboy who'd want to climb trees with me instead of playing "makeover party," but those friendships were few and far between, and for some reason, they just always got cutoff by moving to a different school and growing apart.
But by high school, I was really just over the notion that, because I was a girl, my close friend group was supposed to be girls. The skater guys were fun. They listened to the music I liked. Instead of catty gossip, the conversations around the lunch table were about random fodder like who ever came up with the leap year concept (I am glad to have existed pre-Google, where we mused about this stuff instead of just Googling it). I pretty quickly got accepted as "one of the guys" and got invited to punk rock concerts and midnight meteor shower parties. These were some of the happiest memories I had in high school. And then there was this one guy who loved fishing and cooking, neither of which he was initially very good at. He also loved talking philosophy for hours, and didn't care if I showed up in my pajamas. And although I was straight as straight could be, these were pure friendships. I'd listen to them pine over girls who were way out of their league. And they'd listen to me cry about how whiny and emotional my boyfriend of the moment was being lately. (Why do I pick these kinds of guys? I don't know).
I'd spent most of my childhood thinking I was just she who "doesn't play well with others," but eventually, by high school, I realized that I just didn't play well with other girls. But society pushes kids so forcibly into these gender segregated groups on the playground, it is no wonder that it took me 9 years of public school to figure it out. In neighborhoods all over America there are neighbor kids of opposite genders who rush off to play with each other every afternoon, but then ignore each other on the playground at school the next morning.
My son is falling into the same trap. He misses the female friend who lived on our block but moved away a few months ago. At school, he plays with a group of boys who are younger than him, and I sense he is unhappy with it, as he says, "Well, I mostly played with no one," a lot. Yesterday, we went to watch football with some friends of ours, and they have two little girls. My son and daughter are almost the same age as their girls, and all four of them had a blast playing together. When it was time to leave, we could barely tear them apart. They'd rode bikes, they made up creatives games, they joined each other's Minecraft worlds and.... well... to be honest, I don't really know what goes on in Minecraft world, but they Minecrafted, I guess.
On the way home, my son mentioned that the girl his age reminded him of his cousin (who is his best friend). "Well, kiddo," I ventured, "You know what they have in common? They are girls. Maybe you should try to find some girls at school to be friends with."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because... the girls play with each other."
"So why can't you ask to play with them."
Silence.
"Well... what do they usually play?"
"Sometimes they sit in a line in the field and do each other's hair."
"That puts you in a great position. You could just be the back of the line. You like doing hair."
"Well, lately they've been doing other stuff anyway."
"So, just go ask."
After much convincing, my son realized that I am right (of course) and vowed that he would bravely attempt to play with the girls at school the next day. It's a very small school, so there aren't many options. I hoped the handful of girls his age would accept him. I even prayed about it.
He even admitted that he'd like a change. Right now, he plays with a group of kids a grade or two younger than him. Apparently there is a boy a couple of years younger than my son who seems to kind of have a crush on my son. He follows him around and says, "You're handsome!" all the time. I laughed when he told me that, but my son did not think it was very funny. "It's kind of cute, kiddo."
"Mom, no. I don't want anyone at school to know I'm gay."
"Okay, I get that, but it is just a compliment; this kid doesn't know you are gay."
"Yes, he does. I didn't tell him. No one told him. But somehow he just knows."
It's funny that this happens. It happens in teenagers and reluctant young adults (and apparently my son's tiny elementary school too). I know that many experts deny that "gaydar" is real, but it never seems to fail that the more "out there" kid will find the one who doesn't want anyone to know yet. It is the plot of far too many gay ya lit books, and as of now... my son's elementary school playground drama.
These are not the mommy troubles I'd imagined having with a nine-year-old boy.
I asked him today if he played with the girls. He didn't. He chickened out. One of them said something bossy to him before science class and he got irritated and lost his nerve.
See - every man in my life is sensitive and moody. Even my own son.
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