Guide on dressing up is such old hat
THE Church of England has issued its first guidance for teachers on transgender issues. It states that primary school boys should be allowed to wear tiaras and tutus and girls deck themselves out in tool-belts and firemen’s helmets without fear of censure from teachers or bullying by other pupils.
The poetically worded document says: “Childhood has a sacred space for self-imagining... They are in a trying-on stage of life and not yet adult and so no labels need to be fixed.” Is it fair to suggest that, though undoubtedly well-meaning, the C of E has arrived a little late at the party? There surely isn’t a teacher or switched-on parent left in the land who would object to little boys dressing in gold lamé fishtail frocks Three Degrees-style or girls manning up as Davy Crockett.
We’re all on message. We all know boys make excellent nurses and girls phenomenal astronauts. None of us is likely to suffer an attack of the vapours if little Jack appears in the front room in a Princess Jasmine outfit or little Jill vaults down the stairs togged out as Action Man.
Most of us twig that experimenting is part of growing up. Your son spends all day ironing away on a pretend ironing board. It doesn’t mean he wants to transition into a lady’s maid and star as Rose in a re-make of Upstairs Downstairs.
However, the bit that worries me, is called the “new normal”. What if your son doesn’t want to dress as Darcey Bussell and your daughter is deliriously happy flouncing about as Princess Elsa?
WILL the surge of support for self-imagining leave them feeling staid and sidelined? Could it be that diligent teachers will feel under such pressure not to squash boy ballerinas, they’ll lean over backwards to foist Pocahontas gear on boys and Superman garb on girls?
Some children are perfectly content trundling along what campaigners describe as “gender stereotypes” and it would be a shame to derail them by hectically championing the alternatives.
A further thought: why are we stultifying children’s imaginations by inflicting these drearily generic dressing-up costumes upon them? Ready-made Snow White dresses and off-the-peg Buzz Lightyear gear are deadly dull and far too prescriptive. Worthwhile dressing-up boxes brim with old curtains, bits of bric-abrac, aprons and woolly hats. Whoever you are, if you fancy a tutu, take a creative leap and fashion it yourself from the feathers of a defunct mop and the belt of an ancient suitcase. Now that’s what you call “a sacred space for self-imagining”.