Living a Fairy Tale Trope

It’s a familiar trope in fairy tales. Cinderella had her father’s estate. Snow White and Sleeping Beauty both had a cottage in the woods. Rapunzel had her tower with no doors. Belle had the Beast’s castle. In fairy tales, princesses tend to find themselves in isolation.It’s not unusual. These stories were written in a time when most women could measure their worlds in the square feet of their homes. Men worked outside—women, inside. But even modern fairy tales hold to the same truth. In the Disney movies Jasmine has to disguise herself to escape the palace and quickly has to return, while Elsa has been in seclusion for so long her sister Anna can’t even remember the last time the gates to the castle were opened.I’ve been thinking about these women a lot lately in light of recent developments. I hope Rapunzel had half the imagination of Anna or else she would have gone mad. Now, more so than at any other time I can think of, is when we rely on creatives to get over the sense of bewilderment. Maybe Snow White wouldn’t have let her stepmother in if she’d had Twitter to keep her company. Sleeping Beauty could have blogged about her weird kingdom without spinning wheels and started a Go Fund Me page for new clothes. And Rapunzel could have built a simple ladder from repurposed items in her room from a YouTube tutorial.

What I’m saying is, hang in there. Isolation isn’t as isolating as it has been in the past. There’s a lot of uncertainty, but there’s also a lot of creativity. And while I do want to thank all the brave women and men who are on the front lines of this pandemic, I also want to take the time to thank the women and men on the “homefront” playing music, writing stories, and doing the myriad other creative things that have made staying at home more bearable.And a shout out to delivery people—you’re doing amazing work! 

Valentine's Day Confession

As many of you know, Disney has my heart. It’s the kind of love that can withstand many missteps (like tarting up Merida for her princess unveiling, waiting way too long to give us diverse princesses, and making a meeting with the Frozen girls at Disneyworld a logistical nightmare for any parent). For quite a long time it was strictly platonic…and then came Aladdin.I was eleven when Aladdin was first released in movie theaters. Junior high was already on the horizon, and my elementary school heart was already thinking about boys in a serious way. The thing was, I wasn’t one of those girls who fantasized about getting married. My career was a more exciting prospect and freedom was my main objective. But I still obsessed about boys. Jazmine was relatable to me, she wanted more than what was expected of her—and what was expected was marriage. I can’t remember if I made all these connections as a tween, but I knew I liked her best of all. It also didn’t hurt that we had the same skin tone.Then I met him. Aladdin. Handsome and clever and completely unafraid of a strong woman. He could sing and he had a flying carpet. His best friend was a monkey and (really thrilling to eleven year old me) he never wore a shirt. Escandalo! Was he real? I fully admit to the fact that I developed a huge crush on an animated character, but looking back it wasn’t as strange as I made it sound. Aladdin is the male protagonist I always look for when I read (and write) a book. We take it for granted in an age where women and minorities wish to be heard and want to be represented in every conceivable way. But finding that elusive unicorn—the well-rounded male—is almost impossible. A man who is strong yet sensitive enough to realized when we don’t need (or want) to be rescued. A male character who shows vulnerability and courage. It was exciting then and refreshing now.These men exist in nature. I’ve met them and I married one, but why are they rare in stories? We’ve replaced the two-dimensional female archetype from fairy tales and replaced her with an equally underdeveloped male archetype.Yes, I know this movie sets a lot of people's teeth on edge with its stereotypes and insensitive song lyrics (which Disney recently changed in the song, Arabian Nights) and I freely admit that my analytical side gnashes right along with them. But this isn't that kind of post.I know that by the end of the movie, Jazmine wanted nothing more than to marry Aladdin. The feminist in me wants to rail against that, but honestly I don’t. Once you’ve found the one who lets you be you, it’s reason enough to want to spend the rest of your life with them. So, I don’t begrudge her suddenly going gaga over him. If I ever met Aladdin, my well-rounded husband would have some real competition.