Women For The Win

My wife’s debilitating illness has given me a front row seat to a profound gender dynamic. A dynamic that informs today’s mostly mindless discussion of masculinity.

First, even before we dive in, let me muddy the water a little. Some men, albeit small in number, are superseding the ways males are typically raised.

Cases in point. When we moved into the new crib 11 months ago, Travis, unannounced, showed up with dinner for us on the first, exhausting night. A few weeks ago, Michael dropped in with (amazing) carrot cake and two loaves of Wagner’s (amazing) cinnamon bread. Allen (okay, sure with Patty’s help) baked dinners and drove over hill and valley to lighten our fall when I was teaching. Brian fills Lynn’s hummingbird feeder and repairs her recumbent.

National Public Radio ran on oddly common story on it’s website last week about a dying woman who needed lots of home care. A female friend of the woman ended up singlehandedly providing most of it until the very end.

I would’ve placed the odds of the woman’s key caregiver being female at 95%.

Almost exclusively, my wife’s female friends have taken action. The men in our orbit, on the other hand, have almost always offered sympathetic words. One close male friend recently sent me an email in which he said, “Let me know if I can do anything to help.” That, as it turns out, is the male default. It’s safe. A way to maintain distance. A sure-fire way to not be too bothered.

To my “one close male friend” who I hope isn’t going to read this, I need so much help I don’t even know how to start articulating it.

Most women, in my recent experience, don’t wait around for a guidebook on how to help, content not to receive it. Instead, a larger proportion of them move towards people in need.

Joan heard Lynn say she wasn’t enamored with the industrial gray plasticware I purchased on-line for her. So she showed up one day with much spiffier tumblers. Vivian routinely shows up unannounced with soup and gets down on her knees and huddles with Lynn when her body shuts down. She doesn’t really bother to email or text, she just appears at the door.

I watch Little Chris during one of her regular visits and tell her, “Man, you are so skilled and comfortable at meeting Lynn exactly where she is. It’s a beautiful thing.” She proceeds to tell me that when she was in high school, she cared for a housebound woman every day after school for a few years. And how formative that experience was. I don’t know if Little Chris had a brother of similar age, but if she had, I’m 95% sure her parents would not have suggested him for the job.

We expect girls and women to be nurturing as if they’re somehow uniquely built for it. We give boys and men a pass in the form of exceedingly low expectations. And so most males don’t develop that wonderful female instinct to act. Not to wait to be told how to help, just to show up. To look ailing people in the eyes. To hold their hands. To help them get undressed and dressed. To feed them. To console them. Until the end.

More men will be more hands-on caregivers when we expect boys to be more nurturing. Absent that expectation, women will continue do the vast majority of kind-hearted caregiving.

Strange Denizens of the YMCA

Dude rolls into the Plum Street Y sporting his own 7 foot 45 pound bar like it was a javelin and he’s an ancient warrior. Everyone has their own way of signaling toughness I guess. I just bench 125 pounds in five sets of five to let everyone know I’m not effing around.

Guess the Y’s eight or nine bars just don’t feel right? The mind whirls. Does he take his own eggs to his favorite breakfast place? His own range balls to the driving range? His own violin to the symphony concert? Just how far does his self sufficiency go?

Same day I refrain from telling another strange denizen that his too many to count tats looked just plain awful. Just in case he’s like the elderly bloke next to me with 255 pounds on the bar.

Better safe than sorry.

Guess I Should Buy An Axe

Unless you’ve been backpacking in a remote wilderness the past few years, you’ve heard some part of the increasingly heated discussion around masculinity. The starting point, as a Washington Post headline writer recently put it is, “Men are lost”.

Christine Emba’s July 10th article, “Men are lost. Here’s a map out of the wilderness” has received lots of positive attention. Slightly different than her headline writer, Emba’s starting point is young men’s “weirdness”.  Whether “lost” or “weird” the suggestion is that a positive vision of masculinity is the way forward. Men will be less lost and weird when we recognize some gender distinctiveness without pathologizing differences.

“For all their problems,” Emba writes, “the strict gender roles of the past did give boys a script for how to be a man. But if trying to smash the patriarchy has left a vacuum in our ideal of masculinity, it also gives us a chance at a fresh start. . .”. She adds, “We can find ways to work with the distinctive traits and powerful stories that already exist—risk-taking, strength, self-mastery, protecting, providing, procreating. We can recognize how real and important they are. And we can attempt to make them pro-social—to help not just men but also women, and to support the common good.”

All quite vague, making the reference to a “map” just one more example of headline exuberance.

Further along, Emba gets slightly more specific. “In my ideal,” she adds, “the mainstream could embrace a model that acknowledges male particularity and difference that doesn’t denigrate women to do so. It’s a vision of gender that’s not androgynous but still equal, and relies on character, not just biology. And it acknowledges that certain themes—protector, provider, even procreator—still resonate with many men and should be worked with, not against.”

Since most gender differences are exaggerated, I propose a radical approach to this discussion and that is chucking the concept of masculinity altogether. Instead of ruminating on what it means to be a boy or a man, we’d be better off encouraging young people to “cut and paste” from caring and kind human beings across the gender continuum. Notice how they listen. Consider their sense of humor. Notice their humility. Reflect on their quiet strength. Nothing positive comes from thinking about gender as a competition of sorts.

In Emba’s piece, Scott Galloway, whose podcasts I enjoy, says, “Where I think this conversation has come off the tracks is where being a man is essentially trying to ignore all masculinity and act more like a woman. And even some women say that—they don’t want to have sex with those guys. They may believe they’re right, and think it’s a good narrative, but they don’t want to partner with them.”

For being a UCLA grad, Galloway struggles with subtlety and nuance. The patriarchy is so pervasive, some women are hopelessly wedded to it. Many others are not. Galloway’s reference to “acting more like a woman” implies women are the kinder, more caring, more nurturing, and more emotionally intelligent half of the population.

I can cycle up and down mountains, lift weights, and climb on the roof and clean the gutters while trying to listen to others more patiently and empathetically. All while trying to be more vulnerable on top. The touchy-feely stuffs probably excites the Good Wife at least as much as the physical activities which come more naturally to me.

If asked, she’d probably say, “Why should I have to choose between those things?” My entire point is that women shouldn’t.

One tongue-in-cheek commenter in an expectedly mindless on-line discussion on what masculinity entails had a great response. “Everything is there except wood chopping,” he joked. You are not a man until you fell a tree with an axe, split the wood and heat the house with it.”

At least I think he was joking.