
special issue 1
// p r o s e
Girlhood and Fluid Dynamics
by Candace Kronen
Fluid dynamics: the principles that govern the movement of liquids and gases.
My daughter is half joy, half liquid. She fills any space she enters. My husband and I joke that no matter the occasion, she’s always the most enthusiastic person in a group.
Making butter at a historical site? Let’s get churning! Looking for rocks along the creek? They’re all treasures, even that one that looks suspiciously like rabbit poop! There is no task too small, no activity too dull, for her to approach with whimsy and gusto.
In some ways, this makes life with her easy. When she works on her spelling words, she wears a necklace around her head, a long silk scarf trailing behind her as she practices “magical incantations.” She turns cleaning the house into a Broadway show.
But there are also challenges - how do you parent a braided river?
Entropy: a measure of disorder; indicates the amount of chaos in a system. When a solid becomes a liquid, it has a higher degree of entropy.
With so much passion for life, it can be hard to wrangle my daughter at times. She dances her way through a room, twirling and leaping with reckless abandon. Leaving the house takes three times longer than anticipated when we fail to account for all the side quests still remaining.
This is not, however, my biggest concern.
Superfluids: liquids with zero viscosity that can flow indefinitely.
The world is not safe for girls who can melt into anything. Girls who will pour themselves out over and over. Girls who are frictionless.
During play dates, I see her transform. The day after proclaiming a lack of interest in vehicles, she watches a boy admire a passing car and offers Hot Wheels on her open palms. When play fighting gets too rough, she turns a wince into a supplicating smile.
We practice self-advocacy in role play. We practice speaking the words out loud - “What about…” “Actually I’d really like to …” and maybe the hardest one for her to use with her peers, simply “No.”
But still I worry.
Shear stress: forces that act on opposite sides of a body. Fluids cannot sustain shear stress.
In the back of my mind, I fear she might one day chameleon her way out of herself and not find her way back. That in being too open to the suggestions of others, she may lose an essential part of herself. How far can a liquid spread before it becomes unrecognizable?
I seek reassurance in facts. I strengthen myself with science.
Law of indestructibility: although a fluid may be rearranged in space, the mass of the system remains constant.
My daughter practices resistance with me. Tests out holding her shape. She negotiates bedtime, stubbornly moving slower than a congressperson. She declares in a firm voice that Santa isn’t real, but she wants to believe so she will. She insists that a tutu is an essential part of any outfit, using the one argument that always makes me cave: “my body, my choice.” A liquid keeps its mass.
Property of an ideal fluid: incompressible.
Property of an ideal daughter: incompressible.
about the author // Candace Kronen

| Candace (she/her) is a poet, activist, and speech-language pathologist living in Ontario. She is the co-editor of the upcoming anthology “If You Ever,” a collection of poems based on Kim Addonizio’s “To the Woman Crying Uncontrollably in the Next Stall.” Her work has been featured in previous/upcoming issues of The Rebis, Free the Verse, and Last Leaves. Additional writing can be found on instagram @candacekronenpoetry and on Substack at “Stories I’ll Tell My Daughter.” |
Instagram: @candacekronenpoetry
Substack: “Stories I’ll Tell My Daughter.”