“A girl can’t do that” – and why, as the father of two daughters, I finally never want to hear or see that again.
There are these moments when something old hits you out of the blue. A line from a song. A chorus you might have sung along to in the past without thinking much about it. And then – years later, with two children holding your hands and a different view of the world – you realize: This is not “nostalgic”. This is a mirror.
“When you think you think, then you only think you think: A girl can’t do that. Look into my eyes and then look at my face. When you think you think, then you only think you think: You’ve got an easy game. But I know what I want, so just laugh at me, because in the end I’ll laugh … at you.” (Released in 1975 by the great Juliane Werding, lyrics according to sources by Gunter Gabriel.)
The chorus that I just can’t get out of my head right now carries within it the typical arrogance we all know: that self-assured “I know better” that so likes to disguise itself as reason. And right in the middle of it this sentence that has survived to this day in astonishingly many variations: the assumption that girls can do less. Less technology. Less courage. Less assertiveness. Less math. Less leadership. Less “toughness”. And above all: less right to define their own reality.
I am the father of two daughters. Both belong to Generation Alpha. And I catch myself having a thought that is both hope and despair at the same time:
Unbelievable how current this old chorus still is. Hopefully the Generation Alpha of my daughters will succeed in eliminating the patriarchy from our reality – and establishing real equality. Starting with the attitude toward abilities.
And yes, I sometimes phrase it deliberately pointedly, because I believe that we occasionally need a little shock to wake up: If anyone at all wants to justify a “limit of ability” biologically, then there is one achievement that most men cannot accomplish: carrying and giving birth to a child. (And before anyone rightly objects: Not every woman can or wants to become pregnant, and there are trans men who can give birth – my point is not biology as destiny, but biology as an unmasking reality check for those who so like to judge “abilities”.)
Nevertheless, it is historically and socially absurd how naturally of all people male voices explain to women what they “can’t do”.
This is not “man-bashing”. This is a system problem. And systems do not change because you politely ignore them.
1) The chorus as diagnosis: The problem is not volume, but self-evidence
What grips me so much about this old chorus is not just the content, but the attitude behind it:
- You just have to look at me, then you’ll understand.
- I judge you – and you have to react to that.
- I explain your limits to you – and call that realism.
This attitude is the quiet DNA of patriarchy. Not always as open hatred. Not always as crude disparagement. Often as supposedly neutral normality: “That’s just how it is.” “It’s always been that way.” “Girls are just more likely to be …”
And that is exactly what makes it so tough.
2) “A girl can’t do that” – the modern version often sounds friendly
When we talk about equality today, many people think of big scandals, clear injustices, obvious discrimination. Those exist – unfortunately. But what strikes me particularly as a father are the small things. The everyday sentences. The reflexive images.
For example:
- The praise that for girls often revolves around looks, being good, fitting in – and for boys around courage, strength, assertiveness.
- The expectation that girls are “sensible”, take on responsibility, mediate, function socially – while boys are “just wild”.
- The way girls are taught early on to avoid risks instead of learning risks.
- The underlying idea that a girl may “be capable of a lot”, but please not take up “too much space”.
That’s the perfidious thing: It’s not always aggressive. Sometimes it’s even loving. And that is precisely why it works.
Because children don’t just learn from rules. They learn from what we consider normal.
3) Patriarchy is not “the bad men” – patriarchy is an operating system
I believe we only move forward if we don’t use patriarchy as a buzzword, but as a description:
Patriarchy is a system of expectations, privileges and power of interpretation that is historically male-dominated – and that continues to have an effect to this day.
It concretely means:
- Male perspectives are more quickly considered “objective”.
- Female perspectives are more quickly considered “emotional”.
- Male ambition is considered “leadership”.
- Female ambition is considered “too much”.
- Male anger is considered “assertiveness”.
- Female anger is considered “hysterical”.
And yes: This system also harms boys and men – because it squeezes them into narrow roles. But (and this is important) that does not make it symmetrical. The costs are not evenly distributed. The power of interpretation is not evenly distributed. The spaces are not evenly distributed.
4) What I wish for my daughters (and what I cannot protect them from)
I do not wish for my daughters that they “have to become stronger than boys”. I wish for them that they do not constantly run into an invisible wall.
And I know: I cannot protect them from every injustice. I cannot stand next to them when someone underestimates them. I cannot prevent every pigeonhole they are put into.
But I can do something else:
I can give them an inner coordinate system.
One that says:
- You are not here to be small so that others can feel big.
- Your no is complete.
- Your voice is not an add-on, it is part of reality.
- Competence is not male.
- Courage has no gender.
- You are allowed to learn, make mistakes, be loud, be quiet, lead, follow – without having to justify yourself.
And perhaps the most important thing:
You do not have to be “perfect” to be taken seriously. Because perfection is often the price girls are supposed to pay in order to get any space at all.
5) What I, as a father, actively have to unlearn
Here comes the part that is uncomfortable: It is not enough to be “for equality”. I have to ask myself where I myself reproduce patriarchy even though I reject it.
For example:
- Do I automatically reach for the “tech part” and leave care work “on the side” to others?
- Do I unconsciously expect my daughters to be “more social”?
- Do I interrupt them more quickly?
- Do I praise them for harmony instead of for clarity?
- Do I explain too quickly instead of asking questions and leaving space?
Patriarchy does not live only in the loud ones. It lives in the routines.
And yes: It is uncomfortable to watch yourself doing this. But being a father is – if we are honest – also a school of humility.
6) Equality does not begin in parliament, but at the kitchen table
When I say “eliminate patriarchy”, I don’t mean that Generation Alpha will someday press a big button and then everything will be fine. I mean: We have to rewrite the operating system – in a thousand small everyday lines.
Here are things we as parents (and especially we as fathers) can concretely do:
1) Make care work visible and equal
Not “help”, but be responsible: doctor’s appointments, school chat, clothes, birthdays, mental load. Children observe this. And they learn from it what is “normal”.
2) Take language seriously
“She’s so bitchy.” – “He’s just a boy.”
These are tiny sentences with a big impact. Language is not decoration. Language is program code.
3) Do not label skills by gender
Not “For a girl you are really…” (catastrophe).
Not “That’s more for boys.” (also catastrophe).
But: “You practice. You learn. You get better.”
4) Girls are allowed to take risks
Climbing. Debating. Arguing. Setting boundaries.
Not just being “nice”, but being effective.
5) Raise boys emotionally (yes, that’s part of it)
If we want girls not to slip back into care roles later, boys must learn to carry feelings, take responsibility, listen. Equality is a team project.
6) Recognize “mansplaining” in your own house
If my daughter explains something and I immediately correct her without asking questions – then that is not a detail. It is training. For me.
7) Consciously choose role models
Books, films, series, sports, music: What roles do children see? Who saves whom? Who is smart? Who leads? Who is admired?
Media are not just entertainment – they are role schools.
8) Make boundaries and consent concrete
Not as a “topic”, but as an attitude: bodily autonomy, no means no, yes means yes. Even in small things: hugging, tickling, posting photos.
9) Don’t smile away sexism
“It’s just a joke.”
No. Jokes are the small nails from which big bars are later made.
10) Don’t load the repair of the world onto daughters
This is important to me: I hope Generation Alpha cleans up. But that must not mean: You have to solve this now.
We have to solve it. So that they no longer have to carry it.
7) The pointed truth: Anyone who does not carry a child should be careful with judgments about “abilities”
I’ll come back to my provocative sentence – because it exposes something:
When men (or in general: people who have never been pregnant and never will be) tell women what they are capable of, that is not only arrogant. It is also grotesque.
Because pregnancy, birth, breastfeeding, the physical and psychological carrying – that is a dimension of achievement, risk, responsibility and pain that in our society is simultaneously romanticized and devalued.
And while this reality exists, we are still discussing whether girls are “too emotional” to lead. Whether women are “too soft” for technology. Whether they are “not resilient enough”.
Perhaps that is exactly the core of patriarchal logic:
It questions competence precisely where it can least refute it.
8) My hope for Generation Alpha: Not “girlboss”, but normality
I do not wish for a world in which women “are finally also allowed to be like men”. That is not a goal. That would only be a role swap in the same cage.
I wish for a world in which:
- Abilities are not pre-sorted by gender.
- Care work has status.
- Leadership does not confuse hardness.
- Respect does not have to be earned, but is the starting point.
- Girls do not have to be “exceptional women” in order to be taken seriously.
- Boys learn that strength and empathy are not opposites.
In short: a world in which equality is so normal that an old chorus sounds like a fossil.
9) Conclusion: This chorus is current because we are not finished yet
The fact that these lines still hit me today is no coincidence. It is a hint. A thorn. A mandate.
And if I am honest, it is also a kind of fatherly fear: the fear that my daughters will experience things that I, as a man, never had to experience – and that I will then only be able to support them with words.
But words are not nothing. Words are starting points. And actions are the continuation of words.
I hope the Generation Alpha of my daughters eliminates patriarchy from our reality.
But I hope even more that we do not stand in their way – and that we finally start actively helping to build.
Not someday.
Today. At the kitchen table. In the tone of voice. In responsibility. In the moment when someone says or radiates: “A girl can’t do that.”
