In middle school, Phyllis Reynolds Naylor of "Shiloh" fame was one of my favorite authors. However, it was the "Alice" series that elevated Naylor to favorite author status. The series follows the life of Alice McKinley as she and her best friends navigate the treacherous waters of adolescent social life. The trio deals with jealousy, bullying, popularity, teen pregnancy and the issue that dominates the book the struggle to find, evaluate and keep potential boyfriends.
The series has received praise for Naylor's supposedly adept handling of important teen issues, particularly pertaining to sexuality. The books' sexual content have placed them on the American Library Association's list of most challenged books for several years, topping the list in 2003. However, it's interesting to note that the series' socially accepted characters are white, heterosexual and middle to upper class.
Unfortunately, the "Alice" series is not unique in this conceit. The prevailing discourses in young adult coming-of-age narratives generally subscribe to a binary, heterosexual understanding of gender and sexuality. Chick flicks, comic books and popular fiction series rely on simplistic narratives that ignore the broad spectrum of possibilities in both gender and sexual orientation.
Heteronormative relationships are the basic premise of nearly every popular chick flick. In the seminal 1995 Alicia Silverstone comedy "Clueless," the lives of Cher Horowitz and her friends revolve around the pursuit of boys and the very latest fashion trends. When the socially awkward Tai comes to school, Cher takes her under her wing to nurture her and, it is assumed, make her attractive to members of the opposite sex. Also, in a faux pas that today's gay community would sadly still tolerate, Christian, a flamboyantly gay classmate whom Cher repeatedly fails to recognize as such, is little more than a caricature assembled from stereotypes of gay men. In "Legally Blonde" (2001), Elle Woods' sole motivation for attending Harvard Law School is to win her boyfriend back. Even after getting over Warner, Elle remains, for lack of a better word, "a girls' girl." In a climactic scene, Elle uses her knowledge of proper perm care to trick her key witness into admitting guilt during her cross-examination.
The stereotyped female characters and relationships in chick flicks teach young women a number of problematic lessons: that healthy female friendships must support the pursuit of male companionship; that "proper" femininity involves embracing a specific set of mannerisms and attitudes; and that "settling down" is the ultimate endgame of a meaningful relationship. By propagating these messages, chick flicks limit the possibilities that young women envision for themselves to the easy ones: girlfriend, wife, caregiver and nurturer. While these roles are not unhealthy, they are also not the only ones that women can play.
Like chick flicks, comic books subscribe to their own brand of altered reality: in this case, an over-sexed and objectifying concept of femininity and a worship of hyper-masculinity and retributive justice. In an interview with Comics Alliance, Marvel editor-in-chief Axel Alonso and editor Jeanine Schaefer noted that comics readers want things that they perceive as "counting" and female-centric titles, Schaefer argues, don't "count" because they aren't established in the way that "big-books" such as Avengers are. Even more troubling than the dearth of female heroines is the construction of the few existing female characters. Domestic abuse and rape are frustratingly common motifs: Catwoman, Black Cat, Ms. Marvel and Wasp's backstories all share rape and abuse as common motifs.
Comics also elevate hyper-masculinized manhood (I challenge you to find a single un-macho hero in American comic culture) and advocate disproportionate vigilante justice. Despite being crusaders for justice, characters like Batman and Robin, whose motivations stem from past wrongs visited on themselves, are imperfect role models that teach young men to value retribution over forgiveness and vengeance over reconciliation.
It is time to move beyond these narratives. Non-traditional coming-of-age stories such as Jeffrey Eugenides' "Middlesex," Lauren Halse Anderson's "Speak," Sylvia Plath's "The Bell Jar" and Nancy Garden's "Annie on My Mind" problematize and challenge traditional assumptions of gender, class and social expectations. Unfortunately, with the exceptions of Plath and Halse Anderson, these books are under-taught in middle and high school classrooms.
