Gentle Reader,
My parents spent hours making me a Barbie house. We lived in a single-wide trailer, so I have no idea where they hid it. I must have been around age four when I received it for Christmas. There’s real linoleum in the kitchen. Real carpet in the living room and the bedroom. It’s two stories, complete with an attic and a deck. My mom gave me some of the Barbie furniture and clothes that she had saved from her childhood. The following summer, I got deck furniture, a fully stocked refrigerator, and a pink plastic stove for my birthday.
I spent hours playing with my Barbies in their house. My brother joined me with his Ken dolls. We ripped their heads off their necks, cut their hair, staged a funeral when one of the dolls lost a leg and we couldn’t get it to stay on (she had an infection that couldn’t be treated), took them swimming with us in our kiddie pool, and lost one in a snowdrift. Barbie and Ken came along with us in whatever imagined scenario we dreamed up. They were members of a rock band, a complicated extended family, detectives, artists, writers.
I treasure those memories. That doll house is up there on the list of greatest gifts I’ve ever received. I am not sentimental about many material things, but that is something I’ll never get rid of. Today it sits our basement, the dolls all sitting in their miniature living room, ready for anyone who wants to play.
So I was, of course, excited to see the Barbie movie. Chris and I watched it last Friday and it was great. Really goofy and funny, but also poignant. I teared up when America Ferrera’s character made the following speech. Barbie is sobbing, frustrated at her inability to meet some arbitrary standard:
It is literally impossible to be a woman. You are so beautiful, and so smart, and it kills me that you don’t think you’re good enough. Like, we have to always be extraordinary, but somehow we’re always doing it wrong.
You have to be thin, but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin. You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin. You have to have money, but you can’t ask for money because that’s crass. You have to be a boss, but you can’t be mean. You have to lead, but you can’t squash other people’s ideas. You’re supposed to love being a mother, but don’t talk about your kids all the damn time. You have to be a career woman but also always be looking out for other people. You have to answer for men’s bad behavior, which is insane, but if you point that out, you’re accused of complaining. You’re supposed to stay pretty for men, but not so pretty that you tempt them too much or that you threaten other women because you’re supposed to be a part of the sisterhood.
But always stand out and always be grateful. But never forget that the system is rigged. So find a way to acknowledge that but also always be grateful. You have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall down, never fail, never show fear, never get out of line. It’s too hard! It’s too contradictory and nobody gives you a medal or says thank you! And it turns out in fact that not only are you doing everything wrong, but also everything is your fault.
I’m just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself into knots so that people will like us. And if all of that is also true for a doll just representing women, then I don’t even know.
So tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself into knots so that people will like us. That hits deep. I’m a female pastor. A female theologian. There are so many spaces that I will never be accepted into. And I’m so tired of trying. But if you stop trying, where do you go? If you’re not always beating at the closed doors, they’ll forever remain closed to you and the women who follow you. So what do you do?
But ultimately, the Barbie movie isn’t even fully about the struggle of being a woman. Despite what you may have read, this film isn’t two hours of screaming about how awful men are. It’s not anti-motherhood, either. (After this speech, America Ferrera’s character goes on to say that it’s fine for women to want to be mothers. I’m not sure how much more explicit you can get). The movie is really about what happens when we try to control and dominate others. Historically, women are the ones who have suffered the most under this kind of system, but men are hurt by it, too. The point is there for all to see: Equality. What we need is equality. Men don’t dominate. Women don’t dominate.
This isn’t an offensive message. The backlash this movie has received reveals that we live in a world in which people want to be offended. Professional pot-stirrers do just that – stir the pot. They’ve got no answers or solutions for any of the problems we face, but they want to maintain their position of power and influence, so they scream about a movie. And too often their audiences reward them for it.
But what if we took a step back? When the culture vultures tell us to be mad about something, what if we paused? What if we took just a moment? A beat? And in that moment, that beat, what if we closed our eyes and asked God if this rage is worth it? If this rage best expresses God’s heart for the world and all of us in it?
What if we stopped feeding into the destructive cycle and system that the Barbie movie warns us against?
GRACE AND PEACE ALONG THE WAY,
MARIE
Image Courtesy of Sandra Gabriel