Dear Boys,
The world makes it pretty easy to be a man. Men have been in charge of world affairs for such a long time that we’ve more or less made being men (especially white men) the easy bit, and made everything else more challenging.
But just because something was done that way before, doesn’t mean we have to keep doing it that way forever. Just because traditionally men were appreciated for their strength, or their swagger, doesn’t mean that’s the way y’all have to be too. (Assuming your gender identity is male)
I bring this up because news last week forcefully reminded us of that fallacy and because my soccer feelings from this week responded very well.
To start with: the fallacy.
There are a sort of men in the world whose faces ripple and snarl, like a bubbling volcano. They maintain a swaggering macho bluster in order project some sense of strength, ferocity, and power. If their style could speak for itself, it would say: “I am the manliest man who ever manned!! Don’t you forget it!!”
These proponents of “masculinity” have a hard time admitting their weakness, their vulnerability, and their fears. Instead they blame others, posture for a fight, and radiate anger.
For four years now, one of the ugliest proponents of this breed of manhood has been at the head of our government. He literally, this week, had his campaign call him “the most masculine man ever to be president.” He has rallied thousands of like minded “men” to his side. And Wednesday, when they all got together, the preening and posturing led to the attack on their own government.
Soccer, far as it is from insurrectionist mob violence, still reiterates that same view of manliness sometimes.
There’s a belief that you have to be “hard”. Return injury with injury. Play through pain. And just generally prove that you are a man (preferably by belittling other men).
Players show this in pointless shoving, bumping and antagonizing. Coaches show it by attacking any critique, belittling various foes, and diminishing anyone who doesn’t reflect their views of how a player ought to be.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. Not in soccer. Not in general society. One of the finest examples of that is a fictional coach: Ted Lasso.
Ted Lasso and the Redifining of Manhood
Your mom and I just finished this series, and it’s both funny, sweet, sincere and serious. Ted May seem a bit buffoonish, but beneath the comedic veneer is a welcome antidote to the macho manners of other Americans and athletes.
Ted says repeatedly that he measures success differently
For me, success is not about the wins and losses. It’s about helping these young fellas be the best versions of themselves on and off the field.
Jane Becker (Ted Lasso, S1.E3)
Sometimes that means pushing them to run faster, tackle harder and go for glory. But most of the time it means inviting them to be vulnerable, to understand rivals and forgive yourself your mistakes.
He doesn’t blame, bluster or berate. He shrugs at the insults and dismissals of others, returning time and again to a belief in the value of everyone. Antagonistic reporters, surly supporters, petulant players, he has a smile and kind offering for everyone.
That method transforms the locker room. Not into world beaters, but into fuller forms of themselves. Beyond serious sportsmen, they become more comfortable in who they are: admitting failures, admiring others, owning the anxiety that comes with having one thing define you from the age of 13 and wondering what to do if you can’t do that.
I cannot imagine that introspection, honesty, or temperance in the horde of manly men who attacked the Capitol last Wednesday.
If the innermost feelings of those macho men could speak, I’m quite sure they would deafen us all with fear. Fear of being inadequate, fear of failing, fear of being forgotten. They are terrified, but cannot bring themselves to admit it, and rely on macho make believe to deflect from confronting their reality.
That fear is nothing more than the long shadow of ignorance. In particular the ignorance about all the ways you can be a man. You can play hard and sing out your love for everything and everyone. You can pursue athletic excellence while baking cookies and brushing up on your YA Sci-Fi. You can lead a nation while asking questions and admitting you aren’t sure.
All this to say, being a man has less to do with strength (as the president assumes) or dominance (as many managers believe). Being anything means being the best version of yourself.
MacKenzie's Boot Room 