Boys

In his book Of Boys and Men, researcher Richard Reeves notes that until around 2015, the phrase “toxic masculinity” was just mentioned a few times in academic articles. But by 2017, there were thousands of mentions, mostly in the mainstream media.

The term is almost never defined, and is instead used to simply signal disapproval. Lacking a consistent definition, the phrase now refers to any male behavior that the user disapproves of, from the tragic to the trivial. It has been blamed, among other things, for mass shootings, gang violence, online trolling, climate change, the financial crisis, and an unwillingness to wear a mask during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Lumping together terrorists and delinquents, the phrase ultimately poisons the very idea of masculinity itself. The book contains interviews from dozens of adolescent boys about what they like about being a boy. Most boys couldn’t even answer the question. One college sophomore told the author, “That’s interesting. I never thought about that. You hear a lot more about what is wrong with guys.”

The Glamour magazine YouTube channel has 4.43 million subscribers. It covers a wide variety of lifestyle topics. The one entitled "70 Men Ages 5 to 75: What's Your Greatest Fear?" has over 84,000 views.

Here are there top 8 fears, listed in ascending order of times mentioned:

8. End of the world due to climate change

7. Clowns

6. Heights

5. Evil people causing me harm

4. Being alone/Dying alone

3. Spiders/Snakes

2. Death of loved one

1. Failing to live up to my potential (most often mentioned)

You can watch the video here.

After multiple fights at Southwood High School in Shreveport, Louisiana, resulted in the arrests of 23 students, a group of about 40 dads stepped up to put a stop to the violence. Known as Dads on Duty, the men work shifts, so there are always several fathers on campus from the time students first arrive to when they go home for the day. The dads are there to lift spirits, tell jokes, dole out advice, and just let the kids know there's someone looking out for them.

Michael LaFitte said he started Dads on Duty because "we decided the best people who can take care of kids are … us." Since the group formed, there have been no fights on campus, with one student explaining, "The school has just been happy, and you can feel it." Dads on Duty will have a permanent presence at Southwood High, and the group would like to see other chapters form across the country.

Bestselling author Peggy Orenstein spent two years speaking to boys across America. In a lengthy piece for The Atlantic, she cites a survey of 1,006 ten to nineteen-year-olds, on a variety of youth issues. Orenstein writes:

The definition of masculinity seems to be … contracting. When asked what traits society values most in boys, only 2 percent of males in the survey said honesty and morality, and only 8 percent said leadership skills. When I asked them what they liked about being a boy, most of them drew a blank. “Huh,” mused Josh, a college sophomore. “That’s interesting. I never really thought about that. You hear a lot more about what is wrong with guys.”

As part of her research, Orenstein interviewed those knowledgeable on the history of Western masculinity:

The ideal late-19th-century man was compassionate, a caretaker. But such qualities lost favor as paid labor moved from homes to factories during industrialization. In fact, the Boy Scouts, whose creed urges its members to be loyal, friendly, courteous, and kind, was founded in 1910 in part to counter that dehumanizing trend. ... Today there is much confusion about masculinity and the proper way to raise boys.

Then, during the second half of the 20th century, traditional paths to manhood—early marriage, breadwinning—began to close, along with the positive traits associated with them. Today many parents are unsure of how to raise a boy, what sort of masculinity to encourage in their sons. But as I learned from talking with boys themselves, the culture of adolescence, which fuses hyper-rationality with domination, sexual conquest, and a glorification of male violence, fills the void.

For the documentary "The Mask You Live In," a scene shows a U.S. school teacher giving a group of high school boys a circular piece of paper. On one side they write what their image is, and on the other what they are feeling. Then they scrunch up the paper and throw it to another kid. Here's how researcher Dr. Philip Zimbardo summarized the boys' messages: "What they said was all the same. On the outside it said: 'Tough. Fearless. Kick your ass.' And on the inside: 'Lonely. Sad. Got no friends.' Each boy was stunned that the others felt the same way."

Possible Preaching Angles: This certainly applies to boys and men, but in a sense it applies to all of us as we try to project an outward "I have it together" look while we struggle inwardly with insecurities. We need safe place to be real about our inner world—our fears and insecurities.

In his memoir, Greg Bellow, the son of the famous 20th century American novelist Saul Bellow, writes movingly about his relationship with his father. A reviewer for The New Yorker magazine called Greg's book less a memoir than a "speaking wound." Greg was eight years old when his father told him that he and Greg's mom were separating. The father and son were sitting on a bench in Central Park when the news was delivered. Greg wrote:

I responded by making a snowball and letting it fly at a nearby pigeon. What I really wished for was the courage to hit my father with the snowball. Under the childhood anger my father expected and hoped to see was sadness born of losing the parent who understood me the best. At eight, I felt like a deep-sea diver cut off from my air supply.

The reviewer concluded his article on Greg Bellow's book by stating, "At sixty-nine, Greg Bellow is still the drowning deep-sea diver."

In Albuquerque, New Mexico, there's a restaurant called Tim's Place. It's named after Tim Harris, a young man with Down syndrome who started the business in 2010 with help from his dad, Keith. Six days a week, Tim greets each customer at the door. The 27-year-old young man calls his restaurant "the world's friendliest restaurant."

In a recent episode of NPR's Storycorps, he tells his dad, "I wanted to own a restaurant ever since I was a kid. That was my dream." When he was in high school, Tim decided he wanted to go to college. So in 2004, he moved about three hours away to study food service, office skills, and restaurant hosting at Eastern New Mexico University.

The separation wasn't easy at first—for Tim or his parents. Tim told his dad, "I pretty much, like, stayed in my room because I was upset, missing my mom and dad. That was the saddest part. I cried in my pillow. My pillow was nothing but tears. So I decided to knock it off and make friends. It didn't take long."

Now Tim lives in his own apartment within walking distance of his restaurant. Every day, when customers come into the restaurant, Tim says, "When they see me, they just melt into my arms for a hug," he says. The hugs are tallied on a digital counter on the wall, which now displays more than 33,000 hugs.

On the episode Tim asks, "[Dad], how does it feel having a son with a disability?" His dad replies, "You know, Tim, when you were born I was filled with a lot of doubts about whether I could be a good enough dad to be your dad. And many years later now, I'm so happy to have you in my life. I'm very, very proud of you and what you've become."

"Dad, you are the most loving dad ever. And Mom, too," Tim says. "You guys are my superheroes. And having you in my life … that makes me special."

Possible Preaching Angles: (1) Fathers; Fatherhood; Mentors—the important role of encouragement that fathers or father-figures and mentors can play in the lives of their children; (2) Disabilities—the way that persons with disabilities can make contributions to society and the church; (3) Spiritual gifts—the way that those who seem the "weakest" among us actually have wonderful ways to contribute and bless the body of Christ. (4) Dignity—the dignity of each person made in the image of God.

In 2002, the U.S. Secret Service completed the Safe School Initiative, a study of school shootings and other school-based attacks. The study examined school shootings in the United States as far back as 1974, analyzing a total of 37 incidents involving 41 student attackers …. The young men who carried out the attacks differed from one another in numerous ways. However, almost every attacker had engaged in behavior before the shooting that seriously concerned at least one adult—and for many had concerned three or more different adults …. Far from being "loners," the killers are more likely to be aspiring "joiners" whose attempts at belonging fail. Many of the shooters told Secret Service investigators that feelings of alienation or persecution drove them to violence.

It's easy to label the shooters "evil" but miss some of the less noticeable (or less violent) signs that many boys are struggling alone in our culture. Consider these statistics:

• Boys get expelled from preschool nearly five times more often than girls
• In elementary school, boys are diagnosed with learning disorders four times as often.
• By eighth grade huge numbers of boys read below basic level.
• Males graduate high school at lower rates and attend college right out of high school at lower rates.
• Young men are three times more likely to kill themselves than young women.

Somewhere in your world, there is a young man looking to you to model real, emotional resiliency. To show him that male-to-male friendship can extend beyond work, golf, or some other idolatry and withstand life's most difficult blows. To provide entry into a … honorable … definition of what it means to be a man in the 21st century.

E. V. (Ed) Hill, who pastored Mt. Zion Missionary Baptist Church in Los Angeles, tells the story of how "Mama's" love and prayers changed his life. During the height of the Depression, Hill's real mother, who had five children of her own, didn't have enough food to go around, so she sent four-year-old Ed to live with a friend in a small country town called Sweet Home. Ed just called her Mama. As he was growing up in Sweet Home, Mama displayed remarkable faith which led her to have big plans for young Ed. Against nearly insurmountable obstacles, Mama helped Ed graduate from high school (the only student to graduate that year from the country school) and even insisted that he go to college.

She took Ed to the bus station, handed him the ticket and five dollars and said, "Now, go off to Prairie View College, and Mama is going to be praying for you." Hill claims that he didn't know much about prayer, but he knew Mama did. When he arrived at the college with a dollar and ninety cents in his pocket, they told him he needed eighty dollars in cash in order to register. Here's how Hill describes what happened next:

I got in line …, and the devil said to get out of line …, but I heard my Mama saying in my ear, "I'll be praying for you." I stood in line on Mama's prayer. Soon there was [another new student ahead of me], and I began to get nervous, but I stayed in line …. Just about the time [the other student] got all of her stuff and turned away, Dr. Drew touched me on the shoulder, and he said, "Are you Ed Hill?" I said, "Yes." "Are you Ed Hill from Sweet Home?" "Yes." "Have you paid yet?" "Not quite."

"We've been looking for you all this morning," [he said].

I said, "Well, what do [you] want with me?"

"We have a four-year scholarship that will pay your room and board, your tuition, and give you thirty dollars a month to spend."

And I heard Mama say, "I will be praying for you!"

In the book Unprotected, an anonymous campus psychiatrist writes:

Radical politics pervades my profession, and common sense has vanished. Dangerous behaviors are a personal choice; judgments are prohibited—they might offend…

Where I work, we're stuck on certain issues, but neglect others. We ask about childhood abuse, but not last week's hookups. We want to know how many cigarettes and coffees she has each day, but not how many abortions are in her past…We strive to combat suicide, but shun discussion of God and ultimate meaning.

After reading the children's book Frindel—which tells the story of a little boy organizing a boycott of the school cafeteria—students at William V. Wright Elementary School in Las Vegas, Nevada, decided it was time to initiate a few changes in their own lunchroom. However, they insisted on doing it in a more peaceful manner. They wrote letters to the lunch lady, Connie Duits, carefully complimenting her but also asking if she could lay off the reheated frozen green beans, a staple at the school.

One boy wrote: "Anything, anything—I'll even eat broccoli."

"We love the rest, but we hate the green beans," added Vivian Palacios.

The cutest letter was Zhong Lei's: "Dear Mrs. Duits, The food is so yummy and yummy. But here are [sic] one problem. It is the green beans."

As a result of the students' peaceful prodding, the student services department selected a group of grade schoolers to sample new menu items, allowing them to vote for the foods they liked best. Corn and carrots made the cut; cooked peas and green beans were shown the door.

"They were so excited to get a response back," said Constantine Christopulos, the students' teacher. "I taught them the pen is mightier than the sword, and hopefully they will remember that forever."

Kevin Harney tells the following story in his book, Seismic Shifts:

Years ago, a little boy named Dustin entered the Smarties stage of life. It might not be in the psychological journals, but there is a time in the development of every child when they are ready to receive their first pack of Smarties. You remember Smarties, a row of multicolored, chalk-like, bite-size candies wrapped in clear plastic, about 10 to 12 pieces in a pack. They are perfect for sharing.

I am not a huge fan of Smarties, but when I saw Dustin come into church with a fresh roll, I just had to ask him if I could have one.

Dustin immediately became my Smarties hero. He peeled out a piece with a smile and handed it over gladly. This was surprising enough, but at that moment, something happened in this little boy's heart. From that day on, for the next two years, every time Dustin got a pack of Smarties, he took out the first one and set it aside for me. Every Sunday, Dustin would track me down at church and generously offer me one or more Smarties. He did it gladly, with a smile, as if he enjoyed it.

Sometimes Dustin would open a pack of Smarties during the week, but he would still save me the first round, sugary, chalky tablet in his pocket. By the time Sunday came, the Smarty was a little mangy and would have lint and other pocket paraphernalia stuck to it, but he never forgot to bring it for me. In those cases, I thanked him and put it in my pocket so I could "enjoy it later."

Dustin loved Smarties. He also loved his pastor. Every week before the worship service began, Dustin and I shared a time of communion. Jesus was present as we shared a few moments of conversation and partook of some Smarties together.

Somewhere along the way, Dustin's mother pointed out that the packs of Smarties she bought for him had ten pieces, and she saw this weekly ritual as Dustin's introduction to tithing. What I saw was a little boy who loved to share and who understood the power of generosity. Since that time, I have asked myself many times, How am I doing with my Smarties?

Bill Glass writes in an article entitled, "The Power of a Father's Blessing:”

What is our country's biggest problem? A lack of a father's blessing. The FBI studied the 17 kids who shot their classmates in towns like Paducah, Kentucky; Pearl, Mississippi; and Littleton, Colorado. All 17 shooters had only one thing in common: they had a father problem. I see it so much; it's just unbelievable. There's something about it when a man doesn't get along with his father. It makes him mean; it makes him dangerous; it makes him angry.

On the day before Father's Day, I was in North Carolina in a juvenile prison. I ate lunch with three boys. I asked the first boy, "Is your dad coming to see you tomorrow on Father's Day?"

He said, "No, he's not coming."

"Why not?" I asked.

"He's in prison."

I asked the second boy the same question and got the same answer. I asked the third one why his dad wasn't coming, and he said: "He got out of prison about nine months ago, and he's doing good, and I'm proud of my father. He's really going to be a good dad to me, and he's going to go straight."

I could tell he was protesting so strongly because something was still wrong. So I said, "How many times has he been here to see you since he got out nine months ago?"

He said, "He hasn't made it out yet."

"Why not?"

"Well, he lives way, way away."

"Where does he live?"

"He lives in Durham."

Durham was only two hours away. I had come 1,500 miles to visit the boy. His dad couldn't come two hours? There are a lot of fathers who are really deserters. When I'm in a prison, I always challenge inmates to bless their kids. If you want to keep your kids out of prison, bless them.

Michael Reagan received many gifts from his father, President Ronald Reagan. But at the 40th President's sunset funeral, Michael described the greatest gift a child can receive:

I was so proud to have the Reagan name and to be Ronald Reagan's son. What a great honor. He gave me a lot of gifts as a child—gave me a horse, gave me a car, gave me a lot of things. But there's a gift he gave me that I think is wonderful for every father to give every son.

Last Saturday, when he opened his eyes for the last time…that's when I realized the gift that he gave to me: that he was going to be with his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He had—back in 1988 on a flight from Washington, D.C. to Point Mugu—told me about his love of God, his love of Christ as his Savior. I didn't know then what it all meant. But I certainly, certainly know now.

I can't think of a better gift for a father to give a son. And I hope to honor my father by giving my son, Cameron, and my daughter, Ashley, that very same gift he gave to me.

Knowing where he is this very moment, this very day, that he is in heaven, I can only promise my father this: Dad, when I go, I will go to heaven, too. And you and I and my sister, Maureen, who went before us, we will dance with the heavenly host of angels before the presence of God. We will do it melanoma-and Alzheimer's-free. Thank you for letting me share my father, Ronald Wilson Reagan.

On the whole, siblings pass on dangerous habits to one another in a depressingly predictable way. A girl with an older, pregnant teenage sister is four to six times as likely to become a teen mom herself, says Patricia East, a developmental psychologist at the University of California, San Diego.

The same pattern holds for substance abuse. According to a paper published in the Journal of Drug Issues, younger siblings whose older siblings drink are twice as likely to pick up the habit. When it comes to smoking, the risk increases fourfold.

Seven-year-old first baseman Tanner Munsey never thought he'd end up in Sports Illustrated, but he did. While playing T-Ball in Wellington, Florida, Tanner fielded a ground ball and tried to tag a runner going from first to second base.

The umpire, Laura Benson, called the runner out, but young Tanner immediately ran to her side and said, "Ma'am, I didn't tag the runner." Umpire Benson reversed herself and sent the runner to second base.

Two weeks later, Laura Benson was again the umpire and Tanner was playing shortstop. This time Benson ruled that Tanner had missed the tag on a runner going to third base, and she called the runner safe. Tanner, obviously disappointed, tossed the ball to the pitcher and returned to his position. Benson asked Tanner what was wrong, and Tanner quietly said he'd tagged the boy.

Umpire Benson's response? "You're out!" She sent the runner to the bench. When the opposing coach rushed the field to protest, Benson explained what had happened two weeks before, saying, "If a kid is that honest, I have to give it to him."

David Grossman, a retired Army psychologist, believes that violent video games are teaching our kids to kill. Grossman first became aware of this issue while conducting research for his Pulitzer Prize-nominated book, On Killing, which recounts the U.S. Army's solution to an interesting problem: as many as 85 percent of soldiers did not fire their weapons during World Wars I and II.

The reason for the soldiers' reluctance, according to Grossman, was psychological: "Hardwired into the brains of most healthy members of most species is a response against killing their own kind." In order to deal with this problem, the army desensitized soldiers to the act of killing by having them practice shooting human-shaped targets made of wood. As technology improved, however, the military began using video games to simulate the killing of other human beings.

Grossman believes that modern video games like Doom and Grand Theft Auto operate along the same principles, and have the same effect. In other words, they are chillingly effective at desensitizing teens to the act of killing other human beings. David Walsh, director of the National Institute on Media and the Family, agrees: "What happens when a teen spends a lot of time playing violent video games is [that] the aggression center of the brain activates, but the emotional center of the brain deactivates—exactly the combination that we would not want to see."

As evidence of this claim, Grossman points to a Paducah, Kentucky, native named Michael Carneal. In 1997, then 14-year-old Carneal opened fire in the lobby of his high school, seriously injuring five of his classmates and killing three others. A subsequent police investigation found that Michael's parents had converted their two-car garage into a playroom lined with point-and-shoot arcade games. In other words, a lifetime of playing violent video games had provided Michael with the emotional training needed to kill another human being.

What's even more frightening is that those video games also provided Michael with the physical training needed to use a deadly weapon. Prior to the night before his killing spree, he had never shot an actual pistol. However, when he opened fire on his fellow students, he did so with a surprising degree of accuracy. Grossman explains:

You have kneeling, scrambling, screaming targets. Carneal fires eight shots at eight different targets. Five of them are head shots, the other three [are] upper torso. Now, I have trained the FBI. I have trained Navy SEALS, Green Berets, and Texas Rangers. And when I tell them about this case, they're simply stumped. Nowhere in the annals of law enforcement, military, or criminal history can we find equivalent achievement.

Well, the fact is, men and women are different physically, psychologically, motivationally, and temperamentally. Anyone who has had exposure to babies and children can tell you that boys and girls respond differently to the world right from the start.

Give both a doll and the girl will cuddle it, while the boy will more likely use it as a projectile or weapon. Give them two dolls and the girl will have the dolls talking to each other, while the boy will have them engaged in combat.

Most of us know Gene Hackman as a versatile and successful actor. The highlight of his career came as winner of the Oscar for best actor in The French Connection and The Unforgiven. His lowest recollection, though, involves his loss of connection with his father.

Hackman recalls, "I was just 13, but that Saturday morning is still so vivid. I was playing down the street from our house, when I saw my father drive by and give me a light wave of his hand. Somehow I knew that gesture meant that he was going away forever."

To this day, the memory is a ghost that never seems to disappear.