I was determined to get my son to begin swimming this month. I looked through the websites of several swim schools and diligently filled their contact forms. Spoke to four recommended coaches only to be told that they have no time and failed in all attempts to form a group in my condo at a ‘decent’ time (read before 6:30pm) for my three and a half year old. And then I learnt about the YMCA schedule. I was delighted to enroll him in the swimming program for preschool children at YMCA. It had all that we, first time parents thought was best- group learning sessions, friendly, experienced coach and not far from home. We were all looking forward to the first session.
We had to buy him a new pair of swim goggles. I had forgotten to bring back his first pair from our vacation in Morocco. Since then I had tried to evade all conversations of swim goggles with him as best as I could. My husband and I had spent some quality time on a rushed weekday on those goggles, discussing which pair among the six he would like more. We decided on a yellow frame with green frogs. The frogs were detachable. However the frogs didn’t even get a third of the excitement that we had visualized. In the few months that they were with us they hopped on and off the frame, depending on the weather.So the item on top of our list this Saturday was- guess what? Indeed swim goggles! We chose to go to Takashimaya so that he could enjoy his pretzel while we surfed through the swimwear section. At the first counter we were met by a friendly sales girl. She asked him what color he wanted. She had blue on display. He didn’t take a moment to answer- ‘Pink. I want pink.’ I am sure I looked 5 years older than my age when I crinkled my face that way. ‘Pink? I thought you wanted blue!’ I said. ‘No. I like pink.’ There was no doubt in his mind. ‘Usually girls wear pink,’ I said getting increasingly conscious and uncomfortable of passing subtly to him gender differences based on color. I managed to distract him saying that we should also take a look around to see what is available.
The second counter had a lot more variety. For his age it had three- light blue, dark blue and pink. He told me to hold his pretzel and reached out spontaneously for the pink one! Sigh! The saleswomen around the counter smiled. ‘Are you sure? People may laugh at you and say that you are wearing a girls color or that you have borrowed it from a girl’, I said squirming for stating such horribly gender binding stereotypes. ‘But I like pink, that’s why I want it.’ The sales woman came forward. ‘Hey look at that. See all girl wearing pink clothes.’ She pointed at some customers- women dressed (thankfully!) in shades of pink! ‘And there- See? That man wearing blue lah. Boys wear blue.’ ‘That’s black. He’s not wearing blue!’ he said.‘Okay, let’s go for a walk and you can decide which color you want.’ I was clear that it had to be his decision and an informed one, albeit influenced if a little by me! In the meanwhile I made a frantic call to my husband, ’Hey, have you heard of this brand of swimwear? Their swim goggles are the most expensive here. He likes them- which is fine, but he wants pink!’ ‘Pink? Why does he want pink? Tell him people will laugh at him. Boys don’t wear pink.’ He was in a lecture at NUS, but the issue was critical enough for him to spare a few minutes.A walk didn’t materialize. But we did manage to sit on a couch nearby and talk. ‘Why do you want pink? Is it because your cousin sisters like pink?’ I asked. ‘Yes. But one likes pink and the other also likes blue.’ he said. I was beginning to feel unfair and unreasonable in trying to convince him. ‘Okay, let’s take pink. But you know we can’t get it changed, right?’ ‘Right.’ he said. I sent a text to my husband saying ‘Taking pink. Conversation leading nowhere, moreover don’t know if it’s our gender trap that which we want to pass to him.’ ‘Cool. His choice…’ promptly came the reply! We walked back to the counter together, a spring in his step. ‘I want pink.’ he said happily to the saleswoman. She handed him the pink case with the pink swim goggles. She looked at me. In her glance I read a look of pity that one mum often feels for and identifies with the other. She made a last attempt, ‘Boy, you know this cannot be changed.’ He looked up at her and giggled,’ Everyone will laugh at me.’ The walk back home was quick. He wanted to show it to our helper. As soon as we reached home, out came the goggles and he ran to our helper. ‘See I got pink. I got the girls color!’ The swim goggles remained within five steps of reach till we put them in the bag to take to YMCA. It took him less than three minutes to get into the swimming gear. And then came the joyous moment of wearing his pink goggles. ‘Will everyone laugh at me?’ he asked my husband while I changed. My husband smiled and said, ‘We’ll see.’
We entered the pool together. The water was lovely and we began the first moves as suggested by our coach. In between splashes, suddenly he gave a squeal of delight and a loud laugh. ‘Look she’s wearing blue swim goggles!’
