Wednesday, May 2, 2007

Words: Anatomical Euphemisms Considered

As a mother of a little girl, I am more interested in this question that I was in the case of my son. You see, the naming of anatomy is not nearly as sensitive an issue with males as it seems to be with females. I have heard this debate from many different angles--from Irigaray to the sex-positive internet message boards I belonged to in a former life. I am less acquainted with it from the child-rearing book perspective, as I haven't ever really delved into that genre. As the big sister of 5 siblings, I never saw much need for parenting self-help books and the like. I just wing it! But let's face it, there is a wide-ranging debate over what to call female genitalia, and it is not limited to babies and children. My personal feeling is that medical terms in the mouths of children sound ugly and inappropriate--I mean, would you want your son or daughter talking about his or her anus? I doubt it. So then why is "penis" more appropriate? I am reminded of that rather awful film starring the governor of California, Kindergarten Cop, in which the son of a gynecologist informs Arnold that "boys have a penis and girls have a vagina." The humor in this scene was in the gross impropriety of both timing of the declaration and the sound of the terms "from the mouths of babes," as it were.

Since I am really thinking about female anatomy, I will say that I have particular problems with the term "vagina." Not with the term "vaginal," but with the term "vagina." I take issues with the Vagina Monologues, for example, because it uses the term "vagina" to apply not just to what we actually recognize as the vagina, but also the surrounding area, so to speak. Irigaray's "two lips" (terminology that I rather like from a theoretical perspective, though it's not quite a practical term to teach a child) are included, as well as what I might as well, being pregnant, refer to as the "birth canal"--and I just won't go beyond that description. More accurately, the part of the anatomy that a young child would actually see and feel--and thus, of which the child would be aware any real sense, as the uses for these parts are quite specific and limited compared to those of a feminist theorist, for example--is called, in medical terms, the "vulva" rather than the "vagina." So for reasons of accuracy in addition to plain issues of delicacy of language, I will not teach my daughter the term "vagina" until we get to "that" talk (blissfully years and years in the future--for the son, not so distant. . .). I do not particularly prefer "vulva." The word has its instinctive appeal as a word--it has a round, full quality about it that actually makes a fitting signifier for the part signified (not meaning to shock any sensibilities, and not meaning to offend Saussure or Derrida or any of their devotees). But it does not seem any more appealing to say to a child, "Okay, let me wash your vulva now!" No, that's not going to happen.

On the aforementioned sex-happy somewhat feminist (in some sense of the word) discussion board, I remember (from years ago now) a discussion in which certain women felt somehow "cheated" by their mothers' and perhaps grandmothers' reluctance to call certain parts what they were. What they mentioned in particular was the substitution of bodily function words for the parts from which the fluids were excreted. I admit to allowing this with my son. It's not something I cultivated, it just happened naturally. Somehow, though, I think my husband and I felt the need, even in the naming of these parts (or maybe especially?), to distinguish between the genders. I will add that the term that my family used for female genitalia (in the bathtub setting) is not one I could spell. It's a little embarrassing for me to pronounce, even to myself, because I know that it is not an actual word in English. I say "in English" because I suspect that the word was a corruption of some French baby-talk or something, as my grandmother grew up speaking French (in "the country" in Louisiana, as we called it, quite a bit outside of Lafayette). So clearly that word is out.

What we have settled on instead is rather accurate in my view, clearly a euphemism, but kind of endearing also. We call them (and I use the plural, in a subconscious nod to Irigaray) "baby girl parts." I suppose someday they will be "little girl parts," and finally, "girl parts." This suits my son, also, who has not asked about "real" names, as he did for his own "parts" a while back. I feel like this is accurate because they are, indeed, "girl parts" in a couple of different senses--they are "parts of a girl," and they are also "the parts by which a girl is identified as a girl," at least at birth. I know this raises all kinds of feminist red (or essentialist) flags, but it doesn't particularly concern me. When my daughter was born, they told me, "it's a girl," not "she is anatomically female, but her gender has not yet been socially constructed." The same, I think, when the ultrasound tech tells the expectant parents that they have the go-ahead to buy the pink stuff. Most importantly, "let's wash the baby girl parts" works just fine for me!

9 comments:

Entropy said...

Wow. Neat post. Having two girls, I've thought a lot about what to call all that and been really discouraged that boys have so many names to choose from while we get 'vulva' or other words that are just vulgar. We use private parts or bottom, which is completely incorrect (did you wash your bottom?). I like girl parts/boy parts. I'm so glad that we had a little boy for our third because it's been easy sex-ed for my girls. They knew that boys had different parts but I'm not into showing the kids books with pictures like that (if I had I guess to I would but ugh)...with a baby it's just there. And boy, did they stare at first but now it's just part of the scenery and they've moved on (thank God!). With the boy we'll probably use pee-pee just because it's easy. One of my brothers has three boys and the mom taught them to use the word 'schmecky' which is really funny.

ps. I wanna know the French word!

Entropy said...

Also, my husband uses 'junk' for our 14 month old baby boy. He'll say, "Quit playing with your junk, boy," because he (the baby) grabs and pulls at anything he can reach during diaper changes. :)

mrsdarwin said...

I'm with Entropy -- everything is "bottom". Of course, we're all girls here, so we haven't had to deal with explaining differences.

I spent years changing my little brother's diaper, but that's the last time I had any prolonged contact with a small boy. A while ago, I was babysitting a friend's little guy and had to change his diaper. I opened him up and my first thought was, "Oh my gosh, what's wrong?" And then I remembered I was changing a boy.

Literacy-chic said...

Entropy- I don't really know if boys have all that many more names that work in polite company... They certainly aren't as theoretically contested, but they have the potential to be sexually charged--which is another problem with "vulva" and "vagina." For example, my husband had an uncle who used "snake"--I don't think I could go there... I think "pee-pee" works for boys, too, because "penis" starts with a "p." But maybe I'm rationalizing.

As for the French, my closest approximation of the sound (in French) would be "pichotte," which is not actually a French word. The closest I can see is that "pichet" means "pitcher" and "pichotte" could be a corruption of a feminized form of the word. I think this actually fits with some explanation I heard once--or I could have invented that... I just don't know.

And little girl is going through an "explore-the-baby-girl-parts-in-the-tub" phase...

Mrs. Darwin- You made me laugh with the diaper changing experience! Even though the last babies I have changed (before my daughter) were boys, it's been long enough that when my friend was changing her little boy at my house, I had a similar reaction!

AcadeMama said...

It's funny that you mention how odd it sounds for anatomically correct terms to come out of a child's mouth. I've used the term vagina to describe for my oldest daughter her vulva and vaginal area. But I've also used "private areas" in our discussions of her ownership of her body and explanations of why this (and her anus area) are considered private and what kinds of behavior, touching, etc. is appropriate. That is, I don't want her to be ashamed of her body at all, but I also want her to understand that there are only a few people (her parents, doctors) who have a legitimate reason to be concerned with her body at certain times or in certain ways. In yet other circumstances, when the mood is light, I've also taken up the term made famous by Grey's Anatomy - va-jay-jay.

I say it's funny you mentioned the medical terms as odd b/c my daughter just recently asked me not to use them. She specifically said, "Mom, can you not call it vagina? That kind of makes me uncomfortable." I told her sure and I asked her what she'd like me to say instead. And, she preferred "privates" or "private areas." I realized at that moment how important it is that I'd (somewhat unknowingly) given her options, and that I'd also given her the freedom to voice her own preference. I wish I'd been given both as a child.

Literacy-chic said...

Now, "privates" to me has always been schoolyard chatter, since my family didn't use the term, but kids at school would, usually in a derisive manner. But I agree that it's good to have options. And the private-ness of those areas is good to note. I don't know what I will do in that area... It was never particularly stressed with me, except that we are in the generation for whom that kind of thing was tv sitcom fare... Somehow it was just understood that the things you kept covered were, well, covered for a reason, and they were nobody's concern but your own! (and parents, etc.)

Personally, I didn't really even know where the vagina-proper was until certain biological functions kicked in...then were explained...then I finally figured it out... (in spite of my mom's college anatomy and childbirth texts--7th grade thrills) So maybe that explains my reluctance to name the whole area "vagina." Still, you have multiple parts to the whole, but I resist the synechdoche (or is it metonomy when the part stands for the whole?).

I'm curious about why "vagina" makes your daughter uncomfortable. Has she heard it somewhere else? Interesting! Thanks for chiming in, Academama!

Dr. Peters said...

I was also taught the word "vulva" as a child and I also didn't understand what a vagina was until I was much older--like going through puberty. I had no idea it was even down there! I never ever said the word vulva to anyone. I would have been embarrassed to say it to my friends because they never used that word--or vagina, for that matter. That might be why a little girl would be uncomfortable with the word--she is more comfortable with the words she hears used more often, which are usually not the proper terms. I think it's really important to explain privacy well. I remember being told frequently that if anyone touched me in a way that made me feel uncomfortable I should tell them to stop and tell an adult that I trust about it. That's good information, but incomplete--I was confused about what kind of touching would be bad. I remember thinking about it a lot and not having any idea what they were talking about. I can only assume that if I had been molested, I would have realized that it was wrong--but maybe not. My daughter has asked about her father's anatomy--she realized even when he has clothes on that something is in there--and we have not taught her the word penis because we don't really want her blurting that word out. So far she is satisfied with the explanation that boys and girls have different parts. She calls her own vulva her "bottom" and we leave it at that for now.

Literacy-chic said...

I think you may have it, Sarah. Children are comfortable with what they hear, or at least, feel more comfortable using words appropriate to the context in which they are using them--unless they want to cause a stir, like the boy in Kindergarten Cop! (And you know they're out there!) And of course, there are the children who just want to be ugly and vulgar for the sake of being ugly and vulgar. (Now I'm remembering more reasons why I didn't want my son to go to public schools, though I know vulgarity isn't limited to public schools. But I have memories of having nasty things said to me as a 3rd and 4th grader--not nasty because they were directed to me, but because of the words used.) I think most children are satisfied by the explanation you gave. They realize instinctively that boys and girls are different, even without genitalia to confuse (or clarify) matters further!

I have this idea that if children know that we are receptive to their feelings, and if we don't put too much emphasis on the "unmentionable" quality of the parts in question, that they will, indeed, tell us if something bad occurs. There are signs parents can look for as well. The only time we really told my son about who can or can't touch certain areas is after he was confused & mortified by a physical at the doctor's. It is possible that part of the issue was that the doctor doing the exam was a woman, and also that we had no idea that such a thorough examination would be done, so we didn't prepare him. :( Come to think of it, the one time I heard the "other people can't do this" talk might have been when I was being examined by a(n elderly male) doctor because of recurring UTIs (likely caused by drinking too-strong tea as a 6-year-old).

I think "privates" is still the accepted school-word.

I totally believe in modesty without shame. We're pretty open about anatomy, here. Hopefully our word choice will contribute to this, and the lack of shame will encourage open discussion.

Literacy-chic said...

That is, open discussion within reason... ;)

I'm not really comfortable with explaining the ins & outs of birth (so to speak) with my son. He's got some ideas, and as long as they're fairly accurate, I let them go for now. No need to make him worry more than he already will! He hasn't yet asked how the baby gets in there, only how it gets out!