Improving Straight Culture: A Review of The Tragedy of Heterosexuality

“Men want women and also hate women” (Ward 28). In American culture, misogyny, strict gender roles, and the normalization of heterosexuality are elements that have become so ingrained in our society that people rarely question them. We teach young girls that their purpose in life is to find a husband and live happily ever after and young boys that their identity must be found in rigid masculinity, all while creating a society where the patriarchy is rampant and controlling. While the violence, hatred, and shame of heterosexual culture have been normalized in our society for hundreds of years, feminists and scholars of gender and sexuality studies are beginning to unpack the framework of heterosexual culture and take a critical view of the issues that historically, few have addressed. 

One such author is Jane Ward, who addresses misogyny and the patriarchy, as well as race, gender, and queerness in her 2020 book, The Tragedy of Heterosexuality. Ward, a professor of Feminist studies at the University of California Santa Barbara, is an author and scholar. Originally receiving her PhD in sociology from the University of California Santa Barbara, Ward now focuses her studies on queer and feminist cultures, including heterosexuality, race, and trans cultures. Prior to writing The Tragedy of Heterosexuality, Ward wrote and published two other books, Not Gay: Sex Between Straight White Men (2015) and Respectably Queer: Diversity Culture in LGBT Activist Organization (2008) (Ward). As a queer woman, Ward takes a critical approach to both heterosexual culture, patriarchy, and white queer culture in her works. 

In The Tragedy of Heterosexuality, Ward examines the history of heterosexuality within the United States through a queer feminist lens. She analyzes primary elements of straight culture, such as what she refers to as the “heterosexual repair industry”, and looks towards queer lesbian culture to claim that as a society, men should improve their treatment of and their actual desire for women and women should heighten their standards for the men in their lives. Ward also argues that while people often treat heterosexuality as the “default” and the “easiest” option in society, it is actually not the case. She writes, “This book argues that the basic premise of this question–that heterosexuality is easier than queerness–requires renewed investigation” (Ward 2). Though heterosexuality may be seen as the “default” in society, Ward claims that heterosexual culture requires significant improvements, and envisions a better, more authentic, and more desirable future for heterosexuals. 

In the opening chapter of The Tragedy of Heterosexuality, Ward clarifies her intentions for the book. First, she is not fighting against heterosexuality itself, but simply envisioning a better future for heterosexuality. She even uses language that straight people often use towards queer people, writing “To the straight people reading this book, let me say with all my love and solidarity, I am your ally” (Ward 7). Second, Ward aims to take an intersectional approach to the topics of straight and queer cultures. She acknowledges that queer culture is often represented from a privileged white point of view, and wants to recognize and honor the intersections of race, as well as class and ability, in her critique of straight culture. To do so, she writes, “I have leaned heavily on the writings of queer feminists of color and placed their insights at the forefront of my analysis” (Ward 7). Lastly, Ward uses multiple forms of evidence throughout the book, such as citing interviews and writings with other scholars in her field, looking towards cultural and media evidence, and even conducting her own small forms of research among the queer people in her community. It is through this methodology and philosophy that Ward forms her critiques of heterosexual culture. 

One of Ward’s greatest strengths in her writing of The Tragedy of Heterosexuality is her unique approach to issues of heterosexual men and patriarchy. Instead of simply using the rampant evidence of the oppression of women to criticize men and their heterosexuality, she claims that much of heterosexual culture would be improved if men actually like women more. While we often view heterosexuality and patriarchy as men’s control of women through their lust and desire for women, Ward writes that “heteromasculinity is characterized by a much weaker and far more conditional desire for women’s bodies than is often claimed” (Ward 19). At the forefront of her arguments is the idea that men do not actually like women very much, but instead, they like the power, control, and ownership that heterosexuality gives them. In her analysis of the history of heterosexuality in America, Ward writes, “Across time and place, most forms of heterosexual coupling have been organized around men’s ownership of women (their bodies, their work, their children), rather than their attraction to, or interest in, women” (Ward 34). Instead, Ward writes that straight men should look within themselves for a greater desire for women, not just sexually, but as people, which would result in greater respect for women. As Ward points out, in our intensely heterosexual culture, it is often in social differences between men and women that we are taught to see as desirable; it is from these differences that sexual and romantic compatibility emerges. However, more often than not, this is a falsehood. The strict gender binary culture of heterosexuality results in harsh, and often forced, differences between the genders that do not result in a desire for one another, but instead in annoyance and misunderstanding of one another. As Ward claims, a greater understanding between men and women, as well as greater acceptance of gender expression would result in men and women desiring one another more. This line of thinking, which is foundational to the arguments of the text, is a compelling and unique one that offers tangible ways in which cishet men can treat women better. 

Another strength of The Tragedy of Heterosexuality is Ward’s open critiques of white queer culture. Ward, even as a white queer woman, does not hold back in her criticism. She writes, “Many queer subcultures, like straight culture, are built on intersecting forms of violence: anti-Blackness, misogyny, transphobia, ableism, and economic injustice. . . In other words, taking queerness seriously as a cultural formation distinct from straight culture does not obscure hierarchies among queer people” (Ward 119). While uplifting queer, and particularly lesbian, culture, Ward still takes a critical view and acknowledges the racism and other injustices that are often far too present within white queer culture. In particular, she is critical of white gay male culture, writing that “Gay men, especially white gay men, are often the greatest defenders of the narrative about queer suffering, probably because they have more power and privilege to lose as a result of inhabiting and nonnormative sexual orientation (and sometimes a nonnormative gender)” (Ward 3). So, while being critical of heterosexual culture, Ward is still able to express her critiques of queer culture, as well as the extreme differences between lesbian culture and gay male culture (and particularly white gay male culture) which are rarely discussed. Ward’s ability to present a nuanced view of white queer culture speaks to the quality of her writing and the arguments in The Tragedy of Heterosexuality. 

While The Tragedy of Heterosexuality has many strengths in its arguments and methodology of writing, it could include more quantitative studies and research. Ward cites evidence throughout the book, such as quotes from other feminist scholars, as well as evidence such as ads and media sources that display gender roles. In the fourth chapter of the book, she even conducts her sample study in which she surveyed and quoted people within her own queer community about their views of heterosexual culture. While the quotes from queer people in her life provided relatively sufficient evidence of her claims, I believe that she could have strengthened the chapter by expanding her research and giving a survey to a much larger group of people outside of her own queer community. Conducting research about queer views on heterosexual culture could have provided Ward with more compelling evidence to back her claims. However, Ward does acknowledge the challenges of conducting this type of large-scale research, writing, “Suffice it to say that the kind of quantitative data that would be most useful to the queer feminist investigation at hand are, by their very nature, limited. The field of critical heterosexuality studies is still in its infancy, and ‘straight culture,’ so hegemonic as to be unnameble outside of queer space, is a relatively new object of inquiry” (Ward 27). As Ward points out, The Tragedy of Heterosexuality is a unique work in a relatively new field, so finding and conducting sufficient research can be difficult. 

In The Tragedy of Heterosexuality, scholar Jane Ward addresses large-scale issues of American heterosexual culture that few have before. With intersectionality in mind, she encourages men to look to lesbian queer culture as an image of how women should be treated, desired, and loved, all while encouraging women to hold high standards for the men in their lives. The text is sufficiently nuanced, especially in its allyship and encouragement towards straight people, as well as its accurate critiques of queer culture. I believe that this relatively-accessible text is one that everyone should read and could benefit from, regardless of gender or sexuality. This thought-provoking and unique text could help anyone and everyone reimagine the oppressive heterosexual culture that has been ingrained in our society.

Works Cited

Ward, Jane. “Jane Ward: Scholarship for the Feminist Future.” Jane Ward, https://www.janewardphd.com/. 

Ward, Jane. The Tragedy of Heterosexuality. New York University Press, 2020.

Teleflora – Let’s Sell Sex: Enforcing Gender Norms, Body Norms, and Racist Views

Lights, camera, (sensual) action! Teleflora, an online flower delivery service, debuted their “Valentine’s Night” commercial during the 2012 Superbowl (“Teleflora”). Through this strategic marketing, the company reached its intended demographic of a male-dominated audience. By design, the commercial aims to capture the attention of a heteronormative group of male spectators, which also has implications on societal norms surrounding sports and masculinity. The overt focus on societal norms and expectations surrounding the male perspective, in turn, leads to a regressive depiction of the featured female – a depiction filled with undertones of patriarchal and sexist views of women in society. 

Teleflora Ad – “Valentine’s Night”

As if a title like “Valentine’s Night” didn’t already scream sex and sensuality, the portrayal of a female in the intimate space of her bedroom furthers the theme of sex and sensuality emphasized by Teleflora. The camera in the commercial quite literally embodies the male gaze as it follows Brazilian model Adriana Lima from head to toe… sliding stockings over legs, fastening her lingerie, slipping into her red bottom heels, and slowly applying ruby red lipstick. This voyeuristic effect elicits a sense of intimacy between the audience and the “object” of the commercial. In a sense, the commercial objectifies the female body and promotes the expectation that women should “look pretty” not for themselves but for the gaze of others, specifically males. This expectation finds explicit emphasis in the female model’s own words… the only words uttered throughout the entire commercial.

Lima getting ready for “Valentine’s Night”

With the camera up close and personal, Adriana’s red lips come into focus as she says:  “Guys, Valentine’s Day is not that complicated. Give and you shall receive.” The message comes across as “Men, it’s simple… give women flowers and get [you know what] in return.” This transactional depiction not only demoralizes female agency but also plays upon the patriarchal tropes and symbols that permeate society and systems. Adriana’s words reinforce the harmful expectation that giving females a material object triggers an obligation for the female to return the favor. This notion couches females’ worth in their service to males; A male initiates a transaction and the female is expected to return the favor. This uneven distribution of power subverts female agency and reinforces the harmful notion of female inferiority to males – perpetuating sexism and patriarchy in modern-day marketing. In this context, sex transforms into a form of payment for the “Valentine’s Night” gift. 

Part of the commercial where Lima addresses her male dominated audience

Additionally, the female image presented in the commercial promotes narrow, unrealistic beauty standards. Teleflora plays upon societal beauty standards that idolize skinniness, long legs, toned arms, cleavage, fair skin, high cheekbones, and silky smooth hair among other features. Overall, these characteristics are not representative of the actual diversity of female body types and skin tones. In this way, harmful beauty norms surrounding the female body also intersect with the oppression of other forms of identity, like race and ethnicity.

At first glance, the commercial appears to provide a platform of ethnic representation, but upon further analysis, it does quite the opposite. Teleflora depicts Brazilian model, Adriana Lima, in an errotic light – a strategic marketing ploy to gain the attention of viewers (“Teleflora”). The commercial reinforces the sexualization of Hispanic women in the media and plays upon the trope of an “attraction to the exotic.” Though this marketing decision may capture the attention of more viewers, the question becomes, “At what cost?” Biases are shaped and reinforced by symbols and images people are exposed to everyday. Pairing sexual symbols with the image of a Hispanic woman only furthers stereotypes about the broader group of women who identify with the Hispanic culture and overshadows the diversity of beauty and body type within the ethnic group. The “Valentine’s Night” commercial positions an intersectionally marginalized identity in service to the dominant male (likely white) audience. Even though the dominant group is not present in the commercial itself, it still manages to influence the narrative and support the maintenance of oppressive depictions of the marginalized identities. 

In the end, Teleflora makes buying flowers “sexy” by pairing the flowers with a sexualized and unrealistic female depiction. Though this marketing tactic may have been helpful in reaching the targeted male audience, it has harmful implications for gender and sexuality norms. The commercial perpetuates symbols of females as objects rather than humans with agency and reinforces sexist and patriarchal notions of femininity. It also perpetuates racist views by exoticizing a Hispanic woman and reinforcing ethnic stereotypes about what a “sexy Hispanic woman” looks like or wants. Just as Teleflora’s red and white floral arrangements trigger images of Valentine’s Day, its narrow and sexualized depiction of a Brazilian female triggers deep-seated undertones of patriarchy, sexism, and racism. 

Work Cited:

“Teleflora – Valentine’s Night Video from Ad Age.” Ad Age, 5 Jan. 2012, https://adage.com/videos/teleflora-valentines-night/1187.

No Product-Day Challenge

After first hearing of the activity, I was excited and immediately wanted to partake in it. I love a challenge and love to uncover my true relationship with my body. I actually do not use that many products, especially with my hair products because they don’t work for my hair type anyway. I only usually wear deodorant and sparkly eyeshadow and eyeliner. I don’t usually wear foundation because I like the way my freckles look. However, at times I use foundation to conceal acne, which I still have shame over. I wear eyeshadow because I think of my outfits and makeup as art, and I take a lot of pride in that. At the same time, I feel like I also am considered more “beautiful” when I wear makeup and feel more comfortable around others. I also feel like I have to use deodorant because I am afraid of people thinking I smell bad. 

For the 4 days I partook in the challenge, I went without all products. Overall I had a very positive experience because I felt in control and aware of how I am conditioned to gender myself. I especially felt proud about not not wearing deodorant because I was no longer inhibiting my body’s natural processes. The first day I actually did not think that I smelled bad. In fact, I actually like my natural scent; it is comforting to me. I felt more self-conscious about not wearing makeup at times because I considered myself to appear less femme and “pretty.” But, I still have fear around both, since the common assumption is that if you don’t use deodorant you aren’t as sanitary, clean, or concerned about your health. I felt constant fear that people could smell me, yet I tried to fight that instinct as much as possible. My friends did comment on how I smelled, but I didn’t let it get to me because they were just trying to protect me from other peoples’ negative perceptions of any body odor that doesn’t smell like roses. 

No one commented on how I looked. This was different for me because usually I get waves of compliments when I wear makeup, femme accessories, and femme hairstyles. Less related to products but in regards to clothing, I also found that whenever I wear a dress and contacts people always tell me I look “cute.” However, in my glasses, pants, and pulled back hair, I just look “okay” to my friends and acquaintances. I am still trying to discover the balance between adequate grooming and “self-care” and not caring about appeasing gendered expectations of beauty. While I will be interning in DC over the summer, I fear I will have to appear “polished,” feminine, and conservative in order to keep my job, especially since I will be working in a governmental office. Unfortunately in politics, a lot of attention is given toward women’s appearance and I will have to navigate upholding my personal values with caution.     

Through the challenge I realized that I still have a lot of shame around my body odor, body hair, acne, and face without makeup, but I also feel proud of my ability to analyze my own unconscious perceptions of beauty and femininity. I hope to continue on this path and create a routine that fits my needs and desires without upholding harmful gender and health stereotypes.

Women’s Progress and the Future of Marriage: Review of Generation Unbound

American social norms surrounding marriage and family structures have undeniably exploded since the 1950s golden age of Ozzie and Harriet-style unions. Over the past five or six decades, the United States has experienced a rapid decline in marriage and an enormous rise in births to unmarried mothers, especially among poorer, less educated Americans. Family sociologists agree that, in general, childbirth outside of marriage objectively increases poverty levels and inequality for children. In her 2014 work Generation Unbound: Drifting into Sex and Parenthood without Marriage,” Isabel Sawhill explores the causes and consequences of these striking changes in the United States’ marriage culture. She presents the reader with several explanations for the societal developments, including economic changes due to deindustrialization and globalization and a general liberalization of norms surrounding sex and marriage. However, unlike her colleagues in the field of family sociology, Sawhill identifies changes in women’s role in society as the overwhelmingly most powerful catalyst in the decline in marriage and increased childbirth to unwed mothers. In turn, Sawhill’s solution to the consequences presented by these developments is also ultimately a feminist one, as she argues that men must accept women’s changing roles and agree to function in a more androgynous union with a non-gendered divison of labor.

Throughout the expository introductory chapters of the book, Sawhill joins the existing dialogue of her contemporaries, including Charles Murray, Bradford Wilcox, and Robert Putnam, to establish a fact agreed upon by all family policy analysts and family sociologists: marriage is objectively the most successful union for stable parenthood, but marriage as an institution is rapidly declining in the lower socio-economic classes in the United States. What the U.S. has developed, in turn, is a cycle of poverty that fosters unstable family structures and unstable family structures that foster poverty. Sawhill’s main impetus to research the topic lies in the welfare of children. Her main argument is that marriage has seen such a rapid decline in recent decades because of the relative social progress women have made and the subsequent change in women’s opportunities and gendered expectations. Sawhill sees these developments as undeniably positive ones; however, progress for women has led to unintended consequences for children, as children have no autonomy over what type of family structure into which they are born, but must suffer any consequences assiociated with an unstable family. Sawhill’s argument develops into a suggested remedy for the future, in which she proposes that the government subsidize long acting reversible contraceptives (LARCs) to drive down the fertility of women drifting into motherhood with little active intention to do so.

Isabel Sawhill works at the Brookings Institution as a senior fellow in Economic Studies. She serves as the co-director of the Center on Children and Families, as well as the president of the board of the National Campaign to Prevent Teen and Unplanned Pregnancy. In recent years, she has focused especially on economically disadvantaged children in the United States, though throughout her life her research has examined various economic and social topics. She has extensively researched unplanned pregnancy, the economic consequences unplanned children face, and how the United States can best prevent unintended pregnancy.

Isabel Sawhill lays out her argument with extensive discussion and analysis of empirical, quantitative evidence representing the trends in marriage in twenty-first century America. Along with her contemporaries in the field of family sociology, Sawhill uses statistical evidence to determine that children fare best when they grow up in a household headed by their married parents. Despite marriages’ positive outcomes for children, though, Sawhill tells the reader that “marriage is on the wane,” going so far as to claim that marriage is an “endangered institution” (Sawhill 17-18). The bulk of her research is thus to explain why marriage rates have fallen so drastically; her findings bring her to the conclusion that “the changing status of women is the most important driver of changes in the family” (Sawhill 28). From the advent of the birth control pill, to increased numbers of women in college and the labor force, women have far more opportunities now than they did the so-called golden age of marriage, making them less inclined to marry, especially at a young age.

Sawhill also engages with her contemporary interlocutors by highlighting the growing class divide in family structures between the well-educated upper class and the less-educated lower classes. While women in the less educated, lower socio-economic classes have increasingly forgone marriage, while having children outside of marriage more and more often. However, women of higher socio-economic status are entering into so-called neotraditional marriages, which resemble 1950s-style unions, but are predicated on much greater egalitarianism between the husband and wife. Sawhill suggests several remedies to the negative consequences for children produced from what Sawhill considers unstable family structures. She argues that the U.S. government should subsidize long-acting reversible contraceptives (LARCs) to push down the fertility rates among the lower socio-economic classes in which fertility is high but marriage rates are low. She also supports increases in traditional government welfare programs to provide monetary and medical assistance to those in need.

The greatest strength of Isabel Sawhill’s work, I argue, is her introduction of a new explanation for the divergences in family structures in the United States during the past few decades. Her thesis, arguing that changes in women’s status in American society have been the greatest catalyst for breaking down the traditional family structure of the twentieth century, is an argument relatively untouched by Sawhill’s contemporaries. While family sociologists and policy makers have engaged in debate over the cause of changes in family structures, Sawhill presents a perspective unique from her colleagues by making her argument centered around the cultural shifts that occurred due to feminist movements. This argument strong and logical; the advent of accessible and relatively affordable contraception, the legalization on abortion through Roe v. Wade, no fault divorce, women’s increased presence in higher education institutions and improved status in the work force, etc. have all undeniably shifted marriage norms and structures (Sawhill26-30). She explains the bifurcation between upper and lower economic class families through the lens of gendered norms as well; well-educated, wealthy women are delaying marriage and childbearing while they gain education and profession status, but “at the other end of the economic spectrum, families are falling apart” (37). Sawhill explains this development as a result of lower-income men refusing to approach partnerships and marriage with an egalitarian view of gender.

Arguably Sawhill’s biggest weakness in her text is her explicit call to drive down the fertility rates of the less educated, lower income rungs of American society. Though she provides copious evidence that the instability present in many lower income families harms innocent children, her suggested remedies evoke the disturbing history of eugenics and birth control. Though Planned Parenthood provides undeniable benefits in 2016, and although Margret Sanger is often portrayed as a champion of women’s rights and social progress, we must remember the initial intentions of Planned Parenthood and birth control in general. While Sawhill herself may advocate purely on behalf of blameless children, her call for government-subsidized fertility control of less educated, poorer women threatens the agency of women on the sole basis of their economic status, as well as treading frighteningly close to outright eugenics. While children do unfairly suffer due to their parents decisions, we must always respect the agency and value of people regardless of their education attainment or economic status.

Overall, Isabel Sawhill provides an interesting and important commentary on the developments of marriage norms in the United States, with her predictions for the future and suggested remedies for the negative consequences associated with these changing social norms. The book exists in a field presumably off the radar of the average person, even among the more educated ranks. However, family structures and practices affect the future generation of thinkers, leaders, and influencers of our economy and society, and evidence shows us that the environment in which they are coming of age has a much greater affect on them than we may realize. Because Sawhill’s topic of analysis includes such a broad range of people—that is, all of American society—everyone could benefit from reading her text. I would openly recommend this text, but would explicitly suggest any reader to examine closely her remedies for the future and approach the work with a critical eye.

Sawhill, Isabel V. Generation Unbound: Drifting into Sex and Parenthood without Marriage. Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution, 2014. Print.

Philosotoddler Questions Gender Stereotypes

“Do I wear blue because I’m a boy, or am I a boy because I wear blue?” asks a perplexed young toddler, dubbed the “philosotoddler,” in a meme on a Buzzfeed Pinterest post.  A seemingly simple question that, once pondered, actually conjures up all sorts of questions, conjectures, and arguments in today’s gender culture.  The post, originally intended to be nothing more than a joke about the confusing life of a toddler, has no philosophical meaning when looked at in its original context by an average viewer.  The intended audience for this post is the modern internet-user, in particular a Pinterest user, which means it is likely aimed more at younger audiences, especially teens and such who are frequently on Pinterest.  Because the post was originally meant to be simple entertainment, many people have surely seen this meme and have thought nothing of it.  Most peple who see this post have likely grown up in the heteronormative, gender stereotype-enforcing culture in which we live today, therefore they did not read deeper into the meaning of the picture and merely laughed at the “philosotoddler’s” deep inquiries about life.  However, when the post is viewed through the probing lens of gender and sexuality, the reader can truly realize a much deeper meaning hidden between the lines.

This perspective first reveals that, by merely making the assumption that blue is masculine, the post abides by the heteronormative trends that have consumed society for hundreds of years.  The meme addresses the role of gender stereotypes and the idea that certain qualities or accessories are so associated with a certain gender that they are seen as identifiers of that gender.  For example, a baby wearing blue is typically assumed to be a boy.  He is a boy because he has male genitalia, and he is expected to eventually exhibit the qualities that are typically seen as being masculine.  This progression is the logic most people use in society even today, because these are the ideas of heteronormativity.  The baby has already been assigned the gender “male” because of his biological sex.  Almost automatically, the baby, not even old enough to speak or express his/her own identity, already has expectations to fill and assumptions to meet because of gender stereotypes.  These concepts were not part of the original poster’s intentions in discerning meaning from the post, but these topics, heteronormativity and gender stereotypes, are the main focus of this meme when analyzed through the lens of gender and sexuality.

Looking at the original post makes it clear that Buzzfeed originally posted the meme as a joke; along with this meme, there are many others with the same picture, but with different captions: “How did she turn the spoon into an airplane?”  “How can you really know something if you haven’t put it in your mouth?”  The point of the other memes is merely to joke about the “deep questions” of being a toddler, yet this meme in particular means much more than that, and many Pinterest users have noticed this idea.  For example, another user pinned the meme, stating, “It’s a good question to ask.  Gender stereotypes are so big for young children.”  Because such basic assumptions are made about gender in this meme, it means much more than Buzzfeed originally intended, and has a greater significance than many of the other amusing memes with the confused toddler.

Looking deeper into the meaning of the post through analysis from the perspective of gender and sexuality, one can find meaning in the use of a baby as the one posing this meaningful question.  The baby has not yet had a chance to understand gender stereotypes, yet he is already being influenced and even defined by them.  The gender norms of society are being forced upon him and shaping his future, already affecting his learning of what gender is and what it means to be a boy.  The normative gender idea of dressing baby boys in blue is already affecting the baby, before he even has a say in what he wants. Because of the color blue, the baby already has expectations to be masculine and to fulfill the role of a boy in society.  Associations and assumptions such as these will only continue to happen and expand as he grows and begins to understand more about life.  Blue is a boy’s color.  Trucks and cars are toys boys play with.  Boys are tough and masculine.  It all begins with the color blue.

This tendency to enforce gender stereotypes also has a connection with following the heteronormative ideals of society.  For example, teaching young boys that they should be masculine goes along with the idea that they are not feminine.  Being feminine is for girls, and so is wearing pink, and being emotional and fragile.  Because of heteronormativity, one assumes that this boy, who will grow up to be masculine, will grow to like girls.  The baby is put in a categorical gender at a young age, and this gender gives him a natural, expected role in life.  He will follow the idea that girls have a feminine, even subordinate role in comparison to men, and he will grow up surrounded by the idea that romantic relations are most fitting for those of opposite sexes.  All of these assumptions and expectations are related to the heteronormative culture that begins at such a young age that it can affect the shaping of one’s future.

In conclusion, although this Pinterest meme was not originally intended to demonstrate such meaningful and controversial topics such as gender roles and heteronormativity, many users were able to see a deeper meaning in the post.  There is irony in the fact that the “philosotoddler,” meant to be nothing more than a joke, actually did end up posing more of a philosophical question about normative gender roles in today’s culture.  The meme can be seen as an implementation of our tendency to assume the roles of gender in society, and to make assumptions based on gender that cause expectations to be held throughout life.  Maybe a better question for the toddler to ask would be when will we stop adhering to gender roles and heteronormativity and allow kids to discover their own roles in life instead of having them assigned at birth?

Original Buzzfeed post: https://www.buzzfeed.com/jpmoore/the-philosotoddler-meme?utm_term=.mkMeWBl2l#.epMbEklKl

Post from user about gender roles: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/450360031460785367/