“Play is the work of the child.”
When I was about four years old, I became fascinated with large trucks and similar heavy equipment vehicles. I asked for a “dump truck” for Christmas. My parents were not worried, horrified, or intimidated by this traditionally unfeminine interest. They made sure that Santa came through for me.
I can still see the three gifts waiting for me that
Christmas morning. They were all Tonka trucks, a time-honored quality brand for
sturdy toys. The boxes were big and heavy for a little tyke, but I
wrestled them open. I received the yearned-for dump truck; it had a yellow cab
and a green bed, with a working mechanism that lifted the bed, tilted it
backwards, and opened the hatch. The next box contained a bright red tractor
with a steering wheel that moved the huge tires. The last box held a teal green
steam shovel that swiveled left and right. It had a yellow “scoop” operated by
a little switch that could move it up and down, back and forth. Oh, joy; I was
in make-believe heavy construction heaven.
I remember playing with these toys for at least a year,
probably closer to two years. They transported stuffed animals, checkers, ping pong balls, cookies, unshelled walnuts, and innumerable other compact items that fit into their functional parts. Eventually my well-used trucks transitioned to my
younger siblings, and I moved on to play with Easy-bake ovens and Barbie dolls.
But it took a long while. The point is, I never felt like a boy when I was
playing with my Tonka toys. My preoccupation with trucks was what my mother
accurately termed, “a stage she’s going through.”
Can you imagine if I were a four-year-old girl today
expressing such interest in dump trucks and similar construction vehicles? Probably already I'd be on hormone blockers and waitlisted for my penile implant. Children aren’t
allowed to go through stages these days. At the first sign of any unusual
behavior, they are immediately analyzed, diagnosed, and drugged. This is a
mental sickness on the adults’ part, including—perhaps especially—the physicians
and therapists. The overhyped gender hysteria is warped, it’s wrong, and it’s most
often irreparably damaging to the child.
If a boy wants to play with dolls, or if a girl wants to play
with trucks, let them play. Childhood is brief enough, and it moves with lightning speed. There is plenty of time
ahead to sort out gender identities. And, as my experience shows, given enough time such things sort
themselves out. If, indeed, such sorting is even necessary—which it usually is not.
