I’m a Tween Girl Mom: Here’s Why I Can’t Stand Taylor Swift

I have a nine-year-old daughter who is a self-described Swiftie. She owns an Eras tour t-shirt and record, and would give any (or all) of her limbs to attend a concert. She quizzes me on Taylor Swift’s birthday—I repeatedly tell her that I don’t know and don’t particularly care—and knows the names of Taylor’s parents…and all her cats, too. I try to avoid negging, but something about her obsession really bothers me. Let me explain.

I, too, was a tween girl once, and I know what it feels like to be obsessed with a vocal artist who really speaks (or sings, as it were) your language. When I was younger, I was never too keen on pop, so I’ll admit that Taylor Swift isn’t my cup of tea. The Spice Girls had just made it big when I was wearing a stack of black Hot Topic bracelets, borrowing my sisters’ Smashing Pumpkins CDs and leaning into all that Billy Corgan angst. I especially remember glowering at my peers when they called me Baby Spice, just because we share the same first name. And while my music taste has evolved over the years to categories beyond grunge and emo, Taylor Swift just doesn’t stir the angsty teen that’s still lurking somewhere within me. That’s my bias.

Still, my real beef with tweens and Taylor Swift has very little to do with the music or even the individual behind it. My bigger concern is the idol worship that follows in the wake of this particular artist wherever she goes, a cult of personality that surrounds a popstar who none of us, our children included, actually know.

I can tell you the lyrics to pretty much every single Smashing Pumpkins song from memory, but I can’t and never will be able to tell you Billy Corgan’s birthday or even if he owned any cats. I also would never look or feel dejected and deeply hurt if someone in my life failed at this trivia test. (Yes, my daughter takes it very personally.) I never lionized Billy Corgan for his political views and social impact—things that were too complex for me to even parse properly when my age was still in the single digits. Similarly, these things (like feminism and the ‘me too’ movement,’ for example) are far too complex for my daughter to comprehend in the context of pop icon worship…at least unless I do a good job at teaching her to think critically.

And then there’s the issue of her supposed moral virtue. Taylor Swift is celebrated as being a champion of women, and she very well may be. Still, there are two sides to every story, and there is also evidence of her followers using social media for vindictive means. Music Executive Scooter Braun, along with his wife and three small children, were all victims of harassment, death threats and stalking after his business dealings with Ms. Swift went south. A fellow journalist was also subjected to and traumatized by similar bullying and harassment. (Who knows? I might be the next.)

Do I think Taylor Swift should be held accountable for the bad behavior of any and every individual in her massive fanbase? Absolutely not. Do I think she has a moral obligation to denounce the verifiable misdeeds of her fans? Yes. See, the thing is, Taylor Swift is more than just a pop star; she’s a phenomenon. And the energy that surrounds her is so much more, well, intense than you’d see from fans of most other popular artists. I understand that the vast majority of Swifties are not rabid maniacs; they’re just young people responding to music that really touches them, that has gotten them through hard times, and that’s a beautiful thing. Music can heal wounds and move mountains.

That said, I cringe at the thought of my daughter putting any artist on a pedestal when she actually doesn’t know that person’s true values or how they live them out in real life. Taylor Swift is a vocal progressive who takes a private jet to travel just four miles. And Picasso was one of the most influential artists of the 20th century, but you’d be hard-pressed to find a reason to call him a role model for anything outside the context of his craft.

Bottom line: I’m not saying Taylor Swift is a phony. I’m not saying she’s an ideal role model, either. I’m simply saying that I don’t know her personally, nor do her highly impressionable tween fans. My suggestion? Let’s encourage our daughters to enjoy music, Taylor Swift’s included, as a source of healing, strength and personal expression…but maybe without licking the high-knee boot of the woman who made it. After all, she’s an artist, not an influencer. And I think precious few people deserve the latter title.