"Ladies and Gentlemen" (or, The Purpose of Princesses)

Every four-year old American girl worships princesses...Disney ones especially. My niece and my friend's daughters have princess clothing, bikes, dishes, dolls, makeup cases, bedsheets, coloring books...even a princess fishing pole. I have rolled my eyes at this obsession, partly due to my aversion to hot pink, and possibly because when I was four, I had an older brother, so naturally my toys of preference were his Ninja Turtle action figures.

Just in case you didn't believe me.

My husband has a pet peeve against royalty as well, but the real kind. He refused to watch the wedding of Prince William and Kate and mocked others for doing so. "That's the reason we CAME to America! Because we didn't want royalty!" He argues, rightly so, that the idea of one individual or family receiving government-sponsored wealth, honor, and privileges at the expense of everyone else is fundamentally un-democratic, and we should stop envying and adoring the products of that system.

Some people go beyond royalty and even have issues with the terms "lady" and "gentleman". One recent blog post recommended never addressing a group of women as "ladies". It's better to say "people" or "folks", they say, to avoid making women feel labeled by their gender.

I have recently discovered that princesses actually have an important purpose, along with royalty in general and the terms "lady" and "gentleman". Let me share a book that illustrates why:

In the story of The Princess and the Goblin, George MacDonald spins a delightful tale about a little 8 year-old princess and a miner boy who fight against goblins threatening to kidnap her and take over the kingdom. Along the way, the author occasionally points out (in a quaint, turn-of-the-century way) some of the things we should know about princesses:

"Lootie! Lootie! I promised a kiss," cried Irene 

"A princess mustn't give kisses. It's not at all proper," said Lootie. 

"But I promised," said the princess. 

"There's no occasion; he's only a miner-boy." 

"He's a good boy, and a brave boy, and he has been very kind to us. Lootie! Lootie! I promised." 

"Then you shouldn't have promised." 

"Lootie, I promised him a kiss." 

"Your Royal Highness," said Lootie, suddenly grown very respectful, "must come in directly." 

"Nurse, a princess must not break her word," said Irene, drawing herself up and standing stock-still.... 

She never forgot Curdie, but him she remembered for his own sake, and indeed would have remembered him if only because a princess never forgets her debts until they are paid...

Subtle comments like this throughout the book explain that princesses are polite, brave, and respectful. Princesses keep their promises. Princesses reward those who have shown kindness. Princesses aren't haughty about their credentials. Princesses never look down at others who have worse behavior than they. As one critic said of MacDonald's book and its sequel, they “quietly suggest in every incident ideas of courage and honor." Do these sound like frivolous or sexist or outdated characteristics? No way! We still teach these to little girls today!

The clue to the author's intentions are at the very beginning of the book:

"But Mr. Author, why do you always write about princesses?" 

"Because every little girl is a princess." 

"You will make them vain if you tell them that." 

"Not if they understand what I mean." 

"Then what do you mean?" 

"What do you mean by a princess?" 

"The daughter of a king." 

"Very well, then every little girl is a princess, and there would be no need to say anything about it, except that she is always in danger of forgetting her rank, and behaving as if she had grown out of the mud. I have seen little princesses behave like children of thieves and lying beggars, and that is why they need to be told they are princesses. And that is why when I tell a story of this kind, I like to tell it about a princess. Then I can say better what I mean, because I can then give her every beautiful thing I want her to have."

Notice that the archetypal princess is not about superiority to other people. In reality, there are no commoners. Peasants and commoners are background characters representing the ordinary, every-day version of mankind, something that we each have a royal duty - nay, a destiny - to rise above. So, why should we be okay with princesses? Because princesses remind us of our best selves. Royalty serve as the example for how a "lady" and a "gentleman" behave. 

In the book, the nobility of Princess Irene is juxtaposed against the crudeness of the goblins. They live underground, they kidnap and rob people, they're rude and they don't wear shoes and they make fun of the humans whose kingdom they plan to overthrow. The goblins in this story aren't just ugly and unusual - they are also uncivilized. Being "civilized" is what allows us to create and sustain "civilization"; it is what distinguishes us from animals and Lord of the Flies. It incorporates more human attributes like honesty, tolerance, and justice, as well as even more refined qualities such as grace, modesty, kindness, cleanliness, restraint, and sophistication. When we call a woman or girl a "lady" we are not categorizing her; we are complimenting her. She shows mastery of her appetites and passions. She possesses high morals and noble intentions. She is the kind of person we want our daughters to look up to.

What's more, the author makes it clear that the term "princess" (and "lady") does not refer only to a select group of outwardly refined individuals. "Every girl is a princess" he wrote, because every girl, as a daughter of God, is a "royal" creation from birth, and therefore has the innate (I might say, God-given) power and potential to rise to that identity. Another children's book character from the same era repeated this sentiment:

I am a princess. All girls are. Even if they live in tiny old attics. Even if they dress in rags, even if they aren't pretty, or smart, or young. They're still princesses. All of us. Didn't your father ever tell you that?

-Sarah Crewe, A Little Princess

It's cliche. It's beautiful.

If every girl is a princess, then clearly every boy is a prince too (or a knight, or whatever you prefer). This concept applies equally to the term "gentleman", or even simply "man" (read a wonderful article about the portrayal of gentlemen in fiction here): "Be a man!" You hear people say occasionally - maybe when a guy wants to break up with someone via text, or when he's scared to go on the Tower of Terror. The expression does NOT mean "Be male! Have a penis! Grow facial hair!" Being a "man" or a "gentleman" refers to a set of qualities that we think civilized human males ought to demonstrate. In this case, being a man means having strength, bravery, and taking responsibility... qualities that, while socially constructed, make for a strong civil society. To use another Disney example, The Lion King uses royalty to show the tranformation of Simba from "I just can't wait to be king" because he thinks it will be fun, to the Simba who learns to "remember who you are" and that being king means taking responsibility. 

On a final note: Admiring and complimenting "ladies" and "gentlemen" does not imply that certain characteristics are reserved for only members of one gender vs. another - no more than giving someone a compliment means giving everyone else in the world an insult. They simply provide role models and a framework for how men and women can each adopt and demonstrate all good and noble characteristics. Princes and princesses, ladies and gentlemen - these are socially constructed ideas that promote socially healthy behaviors for everyone involved. Can you imagine how society would change if everyone truly saw themselves and every other person as a "lady" or a "gentleman"?

Sippy cup Belle 

Actual Belle

Despite their delicate appearance on sippy cups and pink sneakers, in their movies, Disney princesses demonstrate qualities like bravery, determination, kindness, and honesty. They set goals (most of which do not revolve around men!) and overcome obstacles to achieve them. Those are the kind of role models we should want for our little girls.

The purpose of princesses is simple: to remind us that we are better than that, whether "that" is the behavior of "commoners" or animals or even our current selves. We each have the capacity to be something greater than we believe - a far better, stronger, more beautiful and refined version of ourselves than we can imagine. We rise above our "natural man" by putting on the robes of divine royalty that have already been laid out for us, and living the morals that we attribute to our fictional royal heroes and heroines. There are no commoners. We are sons and daughters of a King.

Vulnerability: When Weakness Is Power

"Being tender and open is beautiful. As a woman, I feel continually shhh’ed. Too sensitive. Too mushy. Too wishy washy. Blah blah. Don’t let someone steal your tenderness. Don’t allow the coldness and fear of others to tarnish your perfectly vulnerable beating heart. Nothing is more powerful than allowing yourself to truly be affected by things. Whether it’s a song, a stranger, a mountain, a rain drop, a tea kettle, an article, a sentence, a footstep, feel it all – look around you. All of this is for you. Take it and have gratitude. Give it and feel love."

— Zooey Deschanel

Here's a paradox...

When is weakness a strength? Probably more often than we realize. Like in the quote above, there is power in being open and vulnerable to the world around us. There is also power in being vulnerable to the people around us.

Vulnerability means being open to love AND hurt, available for joy AND pain, sensitive to good AND bad. Thus, vulnerability is a paradoxical strength which presents as a weakness. Both elements make it an essential part of a happy relationship.

Traditionally considered the "weaker sex", women have been trying to combat that moniker for the last fifty years by adopting the attitudes, dress, priorities, and behaviors of men. What if this is the wrong approach? What if sensitivity and vulnerability are, paradoxically, our greatest source of power?

One of the negative consequences of feminism is that it has tainted our ability to develop healthy, beautiful interdependence with men by insisting that our relationships be at best "independent...together" or, at worst, in competition with each other. When my Protestant friend Shannon got engaged at age 24, she blogged about this issue:

During my four years at (the University of) Chapel Hill, I definitely joined the camp of “Me Women. Me Must Be Strong. Me Must Find Career.” I really did. I never thought about weddings because they’re so girly and frivolous, because I wasn’t (and still am not) earning a salary, and because I wasn’t (and still am not) truly “independent.” And because Chapel Hill taught me I wasn’t ready for marriage, you know? I hadn’t “found myself.” I hadn’t dated around. I hadn’t “figured out my life.” 

But, I did have Bryan who is always so good to me – and so encouraging and loving and supportive.

If I’m ignoring what society tells me – everything in the Bible tells me marriage is the opposite of this idea of independence; marriage is two becoming one – it is a union of unshakable commitment. It is love and humility and compromise. It is strength through losing your independence.

And that’s really hard.

Really hard.

...But what makes me angry, what truly upsets me, is how blind we are to the self-destructive “Me Independent. Me Woman.” mantra. This is particularly highlighted  in relationships. Society empowers our hedonistic pursuit of “The Career,” but fails to consider the effect this can have on relationships – or on an individual’s heart. This is true for both men and women." 

(Read the rest of her post here)

"Strength through losing your independence" - how is that possible? Here is an analogy to demonstrate:

An A-frame is a basic structure, such as might be found on a swingset. It derives its structural support from two poles leaning at angles that would, on their own, be very unstable (45 degrees). Standing straight up by themselves, two well-balanced poles could hypothetically stay up for a while (assuming there's not a strong wind), but they're both much better off leaning against each other. While in this most vulnerable position, they are responsible for holding up the other pole, and paradoxically, this formula makes a basic swingset work. 

Similarly, a marriage derives its strength from two strong, independent people voluntarily giving up their independence and safety to risk being in a relationship. This precarious leaning position is strong when both people are equally committed to metaphorically leaning against one other. When we make ourselves vulnerable to another person, we find power and strength through our unity we could not have found on our own.

When members of a couple lose sight of this fact - one person is scared, or selfish, for example - they may be tempted to protect themselves by withdrawing from the A-frame and standing up alone. Or, one pole may say to the other "You lean first, then I'll go." One pole may have a history of being let down by other relationships and therefore be hesitant to lean. 

What makes marriage awesome is that because it is such a significant social, legal, physical, financial, and spiritual commitment, it cements the connection between the two people in a relationship by placing a metaphorical padlock between them, and makes it safer and easier for both people to be completely vulnerable to each other.

However, our experiences with divorce and infidelity and heartache can make the lock on marriage seem a lot less secure, and make us more afraid of being vulnerable to another person. 

"I don't need anyone!" "I'm strong and independent!" Is it a coincidence that our increasingly loud declarations of independence coincide with increased rates of broken marriages? I don't think so. Our proudly-worn independence may often just be a clever cover up for fear. Maybe we keep saying these things because, deep down, like Shannon, we're terrified that what we really want is true love. We want to rely on someone. We want to give ourselves up to someone else. 

In today's world, not needing someone is seen as a strength. Maybe it's because the desire for love seems either unobtainable or just embarrassing. No wonder we have such a love-hate relationship with Disney princesses! We hate our own desires for vulnerability, for sensitivity, for interdependence. Outwardly, we're pumped that neither princess in Frozen ends up married and yet we are increasingly the loneliest generation in American history. 

This fear and hatred is one result of viewing relationships from a wholly individualistic perspective: we're looking at relationships as an issue that's all about us (which is...weird). When the beauty of marriage and love is reduced to a personal indulgence for weaker people who just can't handle being alone, "I" is the key word in our feminist rants above. Vulnerability has no place in a society that's all about ME.

Marriage however, is virtually the antithesis of individualism. Marriage acknowledges that life is actually about one's spouse, and the impact that the marriage will have on kids, grandkids, community, etc. Our society is not just an A-frame of two people - we are a veritable teepee of thousands of poles, all leaning against and relying on one other. We rely on stores to carry food, we rely on doctors to prescribe us medicine, we rely on schools to teach our children, we rely on polling officials to be honest. We rely on emergency responders to pick up the phone when we dial 9-1-1. Doesn't it make sense that we would benefit ourselves and everyone involved if men and women learned how to rely on each other as well?

When we look through an individualistic paradigm, we can't see the other participant(s) in our A-frame. We just see within ourselves a terrifying, ridiculous desire to be at a 45 degree angle, and we will do pretty much everything in our power to fight against it.

Vulnerability is still dangerous. Could we get hurt? Yes. Could the swingset completely fall apart? Definitely. But our best chance for long term happiness is to marry the right person and then be TOTALLY and COMPLETELY COMMITTED to them, "leaning" confidently, letting our spouse know that it's safe to lean on us. The unlikely antidote to save our marriages is the power of strength that comes from weakness.

When you make the sacrifice in marriage, you're sacrificing not to each other but to unity in a relationship.

Joseph Campbell

Giving up love to be a strong, independent woman doesn't help anyone. And frankly, it's not very much fun. If we have the courage to really look inside and confront our desires for vulnerability, we may find that what we want and what we should want are actually the same thing. The weakness we fear is the key to the strength we desire. We've had it with us the whole time.