The Little Engine and the Mommy Track

Last week, for story-time, I switched out Guess How Much I Love You? (a powerful tale of parental one-upsmanship) for The Little Engine That Could. A brief recap for those of you not regularly reading things to children: An engine is taking toys and food to the boys and girls of the town over the mountain. Its engine breaks down. It asks a succession of other trains for help, but they refuse. Finally, a small engine decides to help, and, powered by its mantra "I think I can I think I can," triumphantly drives over the mountain and the boys and girls get their spinach and lollipops. This much I remembered (okay, I had forgotten about the spinach and the lollipops).

What I absolutely hadn't remembered was the gender politics. The Little Engine that could is female. At first, I was totally stoked: a positive strong role model for my tiny baby! But then I noticed that all the other, busier, more important trains were male. The big fancy Freight Train and the Shiny New Engine and the Old Train that couldn't be bothered to take food and toys to boys and girls: all dudes. Dudes with other, more worldly, more pressing concerns. Dudes whose hearts weren't melted by the thought of toyless and foodless children. (The Little Engine is swayed by tears in the dolls' eyes)

And maybe just maybe reading a little too closely into things, I started thinking about how the Little Engine is doing uncompensated, unrecognized labor that's totally necessary for the functioning of society, but maybe when she goes to her 20th high school train reunion and sees the Freight Train and the Shiny New Engine and how successful they are, she'll wonder what would have happened if she'd said "I could, but I don't want to."