"If I Were a Boy"

Ah, Birdy. She is girl after my own heart. She is another kindred spirit. Since I last spoke of my friend, Birdy, she has cursed the love of her Uncle George and her friend, Aelis, set the privy on fire while a suitor was inside, mourned the death of a young man who died and worried for another who had gone missing in a snow storm.

Birdy is the kind of girl that I would love to call my friend. She is courageous, she is thoughtful, and she is funny. She doesn't do what is expected, just because it's expected. Rather, she wants to try new things, even if they turn out to be different than what she imagined. One day, for instance, she was excited to go to a public hanging of two thieves. She envisioned two rough and cruel men who glared and frightened the crowd and virtually dared the executioner to hang them. Instead, she found two boys, barely twelve years old, who were frightened themselves. She couldn't watch, but ran away and wondered how their mothers must feel.

I also admire her curiosity. Fancying herself a songwriter, she wonders,

     Why aren't fingers equal lengths?
     What makes cold?
     Why do men get old and bald
     And women only old?
     When does night turn into day?
     How deep is the sea?
     How can rivers run uphill?
     What will become of me?

The last line is quite telling, actually, for she has no more control over her own life than the woman has control over getting old or the river has control over whether it goes uphill or down. Birdy's frustration with being born a girl is also evident in a list she made of everything boys can do and girls cannot:

     go on crusade
     be horse trainers
     be monks
     laugh very loud
     wear breeches
     drink in ale houses

     cut their hair
     piss on the fire to make it hiss
     wear nothing
     be alone
     get sunburned
     run
     marry whom they will
     glide on the ice

What is truly heartbreaking about this list is that many of these things are activities we take for granted today. None of us would think to refuse to allow our daughters to have a haircut or run. The image of a girl gliding on the ice invokes a sense of pure freedom, and it's sad to think Birdy couldn't experience that. Just as thought provoking, however, is the idea that she couldn't marry whom she chose. It was the standard of the day, but it's still so shocking to think that men chose husbands for their daughters based on who would offer the most money or bring them the most prestige and power.


I have often said that I am glad I was born where I was born and in the time I was born because I absolutely love having running water and an indoor bathroom. What Birdy has reminded me, though, is that I am also grateful that my daughters are not "in danger of being sold like pigs at autumn fair."

I'll keep you posted.