Who Says Superheroes Are For Boys?

It was cool seeing my daughter take her first steps. Hearing “dada” for the first time was pretty great too. But it was a completely different set of words from my 2-year-old daughter’s mouth recently that blew those moments away:

“Superman, Batman, Martian Manhunter, Aquaman, Green Lantern, Wonner Woman, and Flash-Man.”

Was I hearing things? Did she just identify all the founding members of the Justice League of America on that cover of DC Legacies? Amazing! Sure I’d have to deduct points for mispronouncing “Wonder” and adding “Man” at the end of Flash, but hey, I know I couldn’t do that at 2.

I felt an enormous sense of pride in both Tillie and myself. Her for being so into comic books and picking up on what her dorky old man was teaching her, and me for defying any type of stereotypical notions that little girls should be steered more toward baby dolls instead of Spider-Man and Captain America.

I was on top of the world.

Until I got an e-mail from Tillie’s dance instructor, promoting a new course she was adding next year: Superhero Dance for Boys. The students would be able to “Fly like Superman!” and “Climb like Spiderman!” The program is for 3-and-a-half-year-olds, and I’m sure my daughter would love to do something like that in the future. But as I’ve said, I have a daughter and that “for boys” part of the class name is kind of a turnoff. It also leads to all kind of questions about how I should raise Tillie.

For starters, should I stop her superhero education right now?

I mean, what’s the point? The Superhero Dance for Boys is already shutting her out. What will it be like when she wants to dress up as Wolverine for Halloween? Will I be called before a committee of concerned parents who’ll tell me they don’t want my “confused” daughter around their kid?

The little girls won’t want to play with her because she likes Batman instead of Barbie, and the little boys won’t want her around because she has “cooties.”

I know I’m probably being paranoid, but what happens when she’s a grown woman and goes into her local comic shop on Wednesdays to pick up the new arrivals? She’s going to be leered at by every XY-chromosome-carrying person in the place, including those whose deepest relationship with a member of the opposite sex has been their involvement with “Wonner Woman.”

I could look at the comic book thing from another angle, too, in regards to how I plan on raising her. I’m a die-hard New York Jets fan, and I’d like for her to become one too. But I don’t want her to get any notions about playing football. I might as well change her name to “Ostracize Me” at that point!

Perhaps I should take a look at my own “secret origin” when it comes to comics. I’ve been collecting them most of my life—ever since I was Tillie’s age, actually—and the funny thing is it wasn’t my dad or any other male family figure that got me into them. It was my mom. When she would pick up a newspaper or Harlequin Romance book from the Seven-Eleven, she would always grab me a comic book or two. Then we’d go home and read our books. Well, she would read hers and I’d just turn the page whenever she did!

Was she doing what she thought was gender appropriate, though? Maybe it was a case of “little boys who like to read should read comic books” going on. Whatever it was, I know I’m thankful for having been introduced to them and all they have to offer.

As I got older, there was so much I learned from comic books.

I knew how to say “thank you” and “friend” in Russian from reading the X-Men. I picked up that the speed of light is 186,000 miles per second from the Avengers and “Flash-Man” (as Tillie would say), and also that gamma rays can be bad for you and your complexion (as evidenced by the Hulk).

Is it right to deny Tillie those nuggets of wisdom I gained, just because of a deep-rooted fear that we’re not doing the right thing?

You know what? I’m going to stick to my guns and keep her going with the comics. If I monitor the situation closely and make sure she’s not missing any sock-hops on a Friday night because she wants to catch the premiere of “X-Men 22,” then things will be all good. But if she does want to skip the dance, I’m OK with that too.

In the meantime, I guess I need to email that dance teacher and ask her about changing the name of her class.

—Photo Lance Neilson/Flickr