On Saturday at 11:45 AM, I will ascend the spires of Cinderella's Castle and process down the staircase into the Grand Ballroom to have a luncheon with the Disney Princesses.....all seven of them! (For the lowly, that would be Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Jasmine, Ariel, Belle and Aurora....although the fine print says that "character appearances are subject to change!'") I will accompany by my four year old granddaughter, the Honorable Ella Echols Bracken, as her lady-in-waiting, although it has been rumored that she is merely an excuse for me to fulfill a life-long dream...and there may be a smidgen of truth to that rumor.
You see, when I was four, back in the pre-historic times, my favorite possession was a large, hardcover Cinderella book. I knew it was the authentic Disney version because the illustrations in my book looked just like pictures in the movie. I wasn't a particularly girly girl, but I adored my Cinderella book. It was only later, during my college years, that I would hear princesses denounced as being anti-woman and against feminist ideals. At one point I even volunteered in a program for at-risk fifth-grade girls that was called "Goodbye Cinderella." Obviously, the focus of the program was to show these young women that they were worthy and valuable, with intellect and talent, and not in need of a Prince Charming to come and rescue them. I have subsequently learned that all fifth-grade girls can be considered "at-risk" because it is an extremely confusing, hormonal time in life...and that fewer and fewer women of any age sit and wait to be rescued.
If I am being completely honest, I will admit that I wholeheartedly subscribed to the feminist perspective for a number of years. And I still believe fervently in the struggle for women to be treated as equals. But I don't see that belief as being in conflict with my love for pink or shiny tiaras or elegant parties where magical things can happen. In fact, the struggle itself should defend my right to love these things just as it should defend the right of any woman to pursue what she finds valuable and worthy. Because for the last forty-three years it never once occurred to me that the story of Cinderella had much of anything to do with the Prince.
My favorite page in my book was the page where the mice and the birds find ribbon and string and work in secret to make Cinderella a dress fit for a princess. And I loved the page where the fairy godmother turned a pumpkin into a carriage and mice volunteered to be Cinderella's footmen. For me, the story was always about the down-trodden girl who triumphed over her circumstances, with support from those who loved her (even if they weren't human). Granted, it took a dose of magic, but just like in "real" life, sometimes something magic happens at the moment when you most need it. And it is true that she did wind up living in a castle....happily ever after, they say...but in 2012 Cinderella would probably apply to Harvard online and use the Prince's wealth to set up a non-profit for the preservation of mice and birds and pumpkins and fairy godmothers.
So, Saturday when we process down the staircase to be greeted by the Princesses, there will not be a Prince Charming in sight. In fact, Cinderella's name is the one on the castle she lives in now....as well as on her castles in California and Tokyo. Of course, my Prince Charming is the one who is making my dream possible. Without him I wouldn't have the means....or the grand-daughter. But my Princess Ella also plays soccer and holds crabs with her bare hands and speaks her mind. She is beautiful, inside and out, and confident because of what has been invested in her by the people she loves. She will triumph over adversity and define her life by her own standards....which is exactly how I saw my storybook Cinderella when I was her age.
Dreams can come true. Even at forty-seven years old. So, come Saturday, I will be sure to wear comfortable shoes and a shiny tiara.
