Posted on March 15, 2006
If I had a nickel for every time I heard or was called a demeaning, sexist, infantile pet name by a 60-year-old waitress in a jumpsuit at a boxcar diner or by a member of the opposite sex, I could buy up all of the ad space in The Breeze and fill it with my baby pictures. More than just a household name, pet names have succeeded in defining the modern-day television commercial, holiday greeting cards, movie titles and everyday sayings. “Here’s looking at you, kid,” the famous line from “Casablanca,” is an example. “Honey, I Shrunk the Kids” — a terrible movie that should be burned, but an excellent case — shows just how unconscious and ordinary these names are. Darling, baby, honey, sugar, sweet bottom, babe, chick, cutie pie, stud muffin — all of these names (strangely, most of which are edible) have infiltrated our stellar and erudite vocabularies. Oh, dear!
I’m sick of being degraded to the level of a suckling pig. Seriously, whoever thought calling their loved one “babe” was either an immensely famished farmer or a real pig (pun intended). And the term “honey” — oh baby, does that make me want to pollinate! There’s nothing I relish in more than being likened to a pot of sticky, gold goop. It’s the same with sugar. Do you think it excites me to be of Equal value (ha, ha) with the white grains that sweeten your coffee? If you’re going to integrate a pet name into your vocabulary, at least make it delicious and something that can’t be found in your pantry.
Even the title of “pet name” bothers me. Most college students have read Henrik Ibsen’s infamous play “A Doll’s House,” and we all know how that turned out. A little lark here and a little squirrel there make Nora a very disturbed woman. She ends up leaving her children and her home for a world where pet names and sexism do not exist. I wonder how far she got.
Whether you’re in a relationship where “baby” is used in an egalitarian manner or you’ve picked out a special cutesy name for each other, it doesn’t change the fact that it sounds ridiculous, traps each person into their stereotypical gender role, and makes me want to throw up a copious amount of those rainbow hearts with the stupid sayings on them.
I once heard this maxim somewhere that communication is key. Indeed, in a relationship, speaking to one another is crucial to its survival. So why would we communicate ideas like “you’re my baby and wear diapers and I’m potty trained,” or “I call you my little cutie pie because I want to devour you and consume your life and all you’re worth?”
It’s futile to call for a blacklisting of all those who employ pet names in their everyday jargon — I realize this. But it is not vain to revamp this confectioner’s language and use more empowering and uplifting terms of endearment. Of course, the terms need to be androgynous, egalitarian, politically correct and approved by both the House and the Senate. By doing so, we will become more aware of the effects of language and gender stereotypes in relationships. We will also be forced to ask for and remember names, increasing hospitality and decreasing awkwardness between waitress and customer or new bedfellows. And as for my new favorite term of endearment? You can refer to me as pookie.
Traci Cox is a sophomore English major.
