Do The Work
[This is from a journal from way back when my daughter was young. I post it here because she’s almost off to college and, hell, I worry about how she’ll navigate without us.]
I am writing this on International Women’s Day. My daughter, eighteen-days away from turning five, is asleep in my lap. Her breathing is even when she inhales, but sounds like a little puppy growl on the exhale. Her hair is out. Expresssive. Free. She is still, except that her feet—so much like her mother’s—are rubbing together, tiny movements that I have learned is an indicator of comfort. She is at peace. I feel so honored that she chose to fall asleep on me. Being asleep is when we are at our most vulnerable. And it is the idea vulnerability that has struck me this day.
The two most important people in my life are female: my wife and my little girl. My wife is the Olivia Pope of higher education (except for the sleeping with the President part). She is strong, compassionate, has a DNA strand of degrees after her name, is a fierce advocate for Ethnic Studies, and is a phenomenal wife and mother. She also has a sensitive and vulnerable side that, after 11 years of marriage this year, I’m still trying to be at peace with. She’s not one to shy away from being demonstrative with her emotions. I’m the exact opposite, and I’ll own that seeing her cry or upset in any way makes me feel uncomfortable. I was not raised to have my emotions so readily accessible to others—not to mention being a man of color and any type of emotional expression (other than anger or distrust) was frowned upon to the point of violence. When I see her express sadness, it acts as a mirror that reflects how damaged I am. To this day, my immediate gut reaction is to question her softness, in that moment. Why is it that I’m equating tears with weakness?
There are so few social spaces where a man can express sadness, hurt or, hell, even anxiety without having his ‘manhood’ called into question. Granted, some of this granite presentation (especially among men of color) is an effective defense mechanism against the multitude of attacks many of us endure daily. I’ll speak for myself: sometimes I have no idea what I’m defending against. There might not be anything there, but I’m walking around like an unemotional stone wall. If I cannot be emotionally available to myself, how can I support my wife? How can I be the compliment she needs? This is the height of male internalized oppression. Many of us lock away our emotions to the point that when they arise, we do not have the tools to deal with them in an effective way. While this is damaging to us, those in our lives bear the brunt of this. We’re like five-year-olds holding loaded guns, barely having the strength to keep it off the floor. However, we can accidentally do major damage. This is no way to live.
The amount of damage that emotionally stunted men have done to women is staggering. The previous, combined with male privilege, is a toxic combination. This toxicity (masculinity isn’t toxic. I will be address9ing that in another post) poisons not only us but also those we are closest to. It is time for a change. It is time to heal.
While I have been doing what therapy and spiritual-type folks call “inner work” for several years, I think that it is important for me to put it out there that I am actively working to redefine what my masculinity will look like for my future, and for the future of my family—not to mention the future of the world that I want to live in. I will no longer follow lock step in outmoded ideas of what a man can and cannot be.
For the women in my life (and those I will come into contact with), I will start living the way I want our world to be, and stop reacting to and mimicking the way it is. I want our world to be filled with love, mutual trust, true equality; I don’t want my masculine privilege to outshine or smother your feminine energy. I want to raise a powerful daughter, and to be able to comfortably take the backseat when my wife leads. I admit that there is a ton of work to do to reconcile the damage done along the male/female axis and I can do no more than what I can do. I have to try and be the example for other men—despite how arrogant this may appear.
My daughter changes positions and a smile creeps over her face. I think she approves.
