1978: Lesson on How to Be a Lady to My 5-Year-Old Self

by DANNIELLE LARKIN

At the ripe old age of five, I received my first lesson in society’s expectations for me as a girl. It was a lesson that no one around me seemed to notice at all, and a lesson that made my insides scream, and punch, and claw at the walls that were being nailed up around me.

The summer of 1978 brought with a stranger to the small Utah town where my family had just moved. It was the ancestral hometown of my mother, where relatives of both my parents resided. For my parents, this move was coming home. For me, it meant getting to know the extended family and, also, their expectations of me.

The stranger who arrived was my uncle’s father, and he came bearing gifts. He was a talented silversmith who crafted jewelry that mimicked the Native American style, made from silver and turquoise. The family had gathered at my father’s parent’s home to greet this man from afar. I recall the excitement and importance the adults attached to his arrival. It created, in my mind, a feeling of royalty approaching. As he entered the house, he carried with him an oblong black box filled with his treasures. A folding chair and TV-tray table were awaiting him in the middle of the room so he could reveal his display to the crowd. A hush fell over the gathering as he gestured that he wanted to make an announcement.

He had decided that, as a gift to the family, he would generously adorn the wrists of the three 5-year-old girls with one of his beloved hand crafted bracelets. All he required of us? A kiss.

My two cousins, following the appointed “little girl rules,” marched right up to this man, as expected by everyone older and more understanding of society than I, and gave this stranger his required kiss. As they gave the kiss, they had their lovely lithe wrists adorned with the jewels that denoted their femaleness.

I refused. My parents cajoled, then demanded, then shamed. I refused. My parents apologized to the stranger and to the gathered crowd. They were so embarrassed by their young daughter. I had shamed the family.

I was dragged out that day by my chubby little wrist by my frustrated father (I was the only one of the three 5-year-olds who not only refused her duty, but had refused to lose her baby fat).

I think the women present that day understood. But, I can’t be sure. They never said.

As women, it’s time for us to say.

Dannielle Larkin