My four-year-old cousin thought that "acting like a boy" would make her a better person in everybody's eyes!

I've read many stories about people that have been taught from a parental figure about equality between genders/races/equalities/religions etc. from the learner's point of view, but I've never stumbled upon a story where it was from the adult or parental figure's point of view. And mine kind of is. The point is, both parties learn something new. I learnt something new about gender equality and feminism, because even though I always prided myself for being a feminist, I understood that even if I though I knew what feminism was... I really didn't. It all started with my four-year-old cousin who started kindergarten this year. I guess you could say she looked up to me - still does - and she always sought advice from me. Akrivi, Viv for short, was always a bit tomboyish, as society would put it. She preferred footy (soccer) to dolls. Action figures to clothes. She initially didn't like any of these, but grew to love them because she's 100% Greek and Greeks aren't only known for their hospitality, they're known for their prejudices too, which means: Most Greek families want boys, not girls, and actually in villages they will call the boy "the kid" and the girl, well... "the girl." When saying you have a kid, it is immediately assumed you have a son, not a daughter, and that is plain awful, especially when you're a female. At the age of thirty, if you haven't been married yet, you'll "stay on the shelf." The phrase is extremely degrading for the female because it does not only insult her relationship skills, but also it says that the sole purpose of a woman on planet Earth is reproduction. No. Just no. So you see, Viv thought that "acting like a boy" would make her a better person in everybody's eyes! Right? Imagine her disappointment and hurt when her family started saying that what she did brought shame to the family name. It broke her little heart and she was only two years old. However, since then I became her wingman and advised her in every aspect of her life. Sometimes, I did it wrongly and I feel bad for those times. One of the many wrong pieces of advice I gave her was the day before I took her to the first day to school. It was on my road to school, so there was no problem in me taking her, due to both of our parents having to go really early to work. I had bent down so we were on eye level and told her, "Akrivi, you really like footy right?" She bobbed her head, brunette curls bouncing up and down. "Now that you're older, you're going to school. If you play with the other kids they'll make fun of you." I beat myself over that because I just wanted to protect her from all the bullies by doing something really wrong, and I understood that when I went to take her home the day after and saw her longingly staring at some children who played footy. I understood that no matter what, I couldn't take it away from her. So, when we arrived home I told her that she could play footy again. "Why?" she had asked, "Won't the other kids make fun of me anymore?" "Some will, but you know what? They push at you, you push back harder." Through this Akrivi learnt that she shouldn't base her actions on stereotypical and prejudicial beliefs. But, I learnt something important, too. Do what you love no matter what people say. "Akrivi" means precious. And she is, precious I mean. She's truly and irrevocably precious. - Mennie Jay