Once again I found myself teaching my lovely daughter—this time on fabulous scrapbooking overnighter at a lovely hotel—about what real women are and aren’t. This teaching moment came from: commercials.
As we scrapped away to the Harry Potter weekend marathon on TV, I began to notice, and to verbalize, just what these commercials said we women needed to be. In order to be happy or considered a successful or real woman I need shiny lips, thick lashes, eye make-up that “can silence a room” (I turned to Chelsea at this point and said, “Well, that’s my real goal in life…”), sexy hair, and last but not least, goddess legs.
Hurl.
Fabulously, we would make comments right back at the screen (something I’ve done with my other children while watching other shows). Saying, “Not for me,” or, “That’s my number one priority,” or, “Hahahahaha.” And that’s a quote.
I encourage if you watch TV (which we don’t do much so it becomes pretty obvious pretty quickly) to clearly share your thoughts with your children. Help them understand what’s going on—that the advertisers are not selling a minivan (this was our personal favorite—fireworks coming out from behind it: I never had fireworks from my minivan, unless you count the backfiring of the exhaust) but a lifestyle, or a feeling, or an ideal that is just beyond someone’s reach. When you purchase said thing (minivan, mascara, shaving razor) it will be simply that: a minivan, mascara, or a shaving razor.
As we help our children dispel the myths, they can more clearly see what is really being sold and become more savvy shoppers (or, at least stop suggesting toys for Christmas every five seconds that suspiciously correspond with said commercials).
And, of course, limiting TV time helps too. But even at that—we literally watch some PBS afterschool and used to watch America’s Funniest Videos on some evenings—I’m amazed at how many “commercials” or advertising they see, hear, or know about. Use the opportunities to explain what’s happening and why the advertisers do it (to make lots and lots of money…)
As you openly dispel these myths, your sons and daughters will realize that purchases are just things and that as real men and women, we don’t need pouty lips or a big truck to be happy.
Best,
Connie
