Pink is for boys

My father and I sit impatiently in the empty dining hall of Crystal Springs resort. Well not completely empty, there is a couple sitting 3 tables away from us but neither of us have acknowledge the other and I don’t see that changing anytime soon. The hard wood floors reflected light up into my eyes as I opened up my laptop, connect my phone and began the hotspot process.

“Come on my boy, how long is this going to take?” My father asks in a calm but frustrated tone. “I am sorry, it isn’t my fault it’s the internet,” came my response as the sound of my mouse clicks quickened. I needed to upload some of my design work for a small exhibition and we were in the middle of Mpumalanga with no internet connection. Luckily I could use my phone as a hotspot in the dining hall of the resort we were visiting, so early this morning my father drove me from 3km away to get this done.

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I managed to get the internet connection to work and began frantically downloading my work, opening my google drive folders in search of the best of what I have created. My father leant around the table in an attempt to assist me in my curation but drew back quickly with a concerned look on his face. “Why is your Gmail background set like that?” The disapproval came as a bit of a shock as I remembered the prank my friend had played on me months ago. “I like the colour, it’s soothing and I think it looks pretty,” I state defensively, looking between my father and the pink cartoon blossoms that decorated my background.

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“No.” The one syllable word my father has uttered a thousand times in my life that really just gets on my nerves, “You shouldn’t have a background like that, you are a boy.” I bristled at the remark as my mind began roiling with all the gender order and masculinity theory I had studied. “You do know pink was used for boys up until the start of World War Two right,” I said, pulling up a quick Wikipedia page to prove my point. “You can’t believe everything you read online,” he responded settling back into his chair concluding the conversation.

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Biting my tongue to hold back the tirade ready to burst forth I turn back to my laptop and resumed collecting my work. Somethings won’t ever change, I thought to myself.