Boys will be like the boys they read about

When I hear “boys will be boys” arguments, I’m never sure what the phrase is supposed to mean. Boys will be mischievous? Entitled? Filled with pent-up energy that can only be released through physical exertion—whether playing football, wrestling on the floor with a sibling, or pinning down a girl on a bed and covering her mouth while groping her against her will?

I’m skeptical of the gender essentialism and binary presumptions behind the claim that boys will be boys. But my deeper problem with the phrase is that it’s almost always uttered in a situation that involves bad behavior—and done so with a sense of resignation. We don’t say “boys will be boys” when we’re congratulating a boy for his artistic ability or interest in linguistics or safe driving skills. And responding to boys’ misogynistic behavior with resignation (or a wink) means being equally resigned to a corollary for girls: girls will be mistreated, assaulted, patronized, and disrespected. Not because there’s a war between the sexes, but because our culture conditions boys to adopt attitudes and behavior that objectify women and girls.

One alternative to resignation is to be deliberate about countering the culture of misogyny that shapes our children. As the #MeToo movement gained momentum, I noticed a preponderance of new children’s books that I was excited to read to my daughters. Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls, She Persisted and She Persisted Around the World, I Dissent, This Little Trailblazer, What Would She Do?, and Dear Girl all now grace our bookshelves. What these books have in common is that they seek to empower young girls (and perhaps also children who aren’t girls) by instilling in them a sense of confidence and agency while being realistic about the challenges girls and women face.