Moving Beyond Outdated Notions of Masculinity
Fifty years ago, in the midst of the Cold War, U.S. President Richard Nixon visited the People’s Republic of China as part of an effort to normalize relations between the two nations. After more than two decades of international frostiness, it was shocking to see Nixon, an ardent anti-communist throughout his political career, set foot in China. The trip was seen as altering the balance of international power, and to many, Nixon had authored a diplomatic coup.
The chief lesson that many drew from the trip to Beijing was that only a hawkish anti-communist like Richard Nixon could seek rapproachement with the PRC during the Cold War without being slandered as “weak” on communism and national defense. While the substance of Nixon’s outreach was transformative, which we should applaud, we might also wonder why a less-hardline leader may not have been permitted to pursue the same sort of diplomacy which was ultimately healthy for the nation.
A year ago, Detroit Lions head coach Dan Campbell, made headlines fighting back tears during a press conference following a close loss to a rival team. Campbell is a former pro player himself, his emotionality—born of his disappointment for his hard-working players—captured a lot of sports media attention. It also won him praise for his authenticity, his commitment to his team, and his passion for football.
Some of that approval doubtless hinged on the willingness of a big, strong man to play against type—as a professional in a sport fundamentally characterized by physical strength and violent collisions, Campbell’s tears can be seen as a helpful broadening of the terms of masculine expression. For me, as both a boys’ school educator and a man, Campbell has my admiration and gratitude. But what might the public have thought of Campbell's tears were he not a decorated athlete who looks like he could bench press a house?
All this has something to tell us about narrow expectations of masculinity. It is a credit to both Nixon and Campbell that they had the imagination and wherewithal to resist dogmatic scripts that prohibit “real men'' from seeking compromise or expressing sorrow. However, I worry that it was only because of their publicly understood identities that Nixon and Campbell were granted the latitude to express themselves as they did. Had Nixon been seen as “soft” on communism, could he have pursued the diplomacy that he did? If Campbell were a slighter man with no background as a player, could he have teared up after a tough game?
Societally, I believe that we are happily emerging from the kind of false binary thinking which suggests that men can either be strong or sensitive, physical or emotional, disciplined or compassionate—but never both. Exploding such false dichotomies is vital for the mental and emotional health of boys and men, and is a powerful step toward richer, more honest relationships with friends and family. Boys becoming men should not have to choose between meeting physical challenges or demonstrating gentleness; they can do—they need to do—both. But as those who love boys, and those who participate in a boys’ school community, we must take care that sensitivity, emotionality, and compassion are not only available to those who have “earned their ‘Man Card’” by exhibiting muscular strength or emotional stoicism or outsized self-reliance. These qualities can never be the full story of a boy. Strength, sensitivity, physicality, emotionality, discipline, compassion: These are all decidedly human traits, traits necessary to enriching life in innumerable ways. I am proud to be part of a Browning community that recognizes that it is the full and complementary development of these excellences—rather than the order in which they are developed—that matters most as we call our boys to lead robust, responsible, admirable lives marked by meaning, connection, and accomplishment.