
original photo from etsy.com by nicole houff
My dad wasn’t happy when he saw me playing with a Ken doll, Barbie’s boyfriend. It was given by Tito Yol, an OFW, after giving my sisters and cousins Barbies. He had three daughters and it is only understandable if he didn’t buy toys for boys on his way back as pasalubong. He was a cool uncle who maybe thought that a Ken is no different from a G.I. Joe. Honestly, then as a 4 year old, and now at 36, I don’t see the difference either. Only in between, when i was starting to learn genetic differences and physiological tendencies were it an issue.
The Ken in question was a cowboy complete with guns, boots with spurs and a white plastic hat. My dad thought it was offensive for his only son, the son of a king from the mean streets of Mabitac, Laguna to be running around with a cowboy doll with his sisters. He did stop questioning the whole situation one time when he saw me playing alone with Ken and Barbie. Except that they were naked. And Ken was on top. I guess some curiosity about sexuality is more acceptable than others.