Wow, men are fucked up, I thought as I watched the Kavanaugh-Ford hearing. And now he’s confirmed.

Shame and anger were Kavanaugh’s weapons of discourse. Damn, he’s talking to us like we are children.  “This is a national disgrace… you should be ashamed.” Blah, blah, blah….  And his Republican cronies continued the tirade of shame.

Listening, I felt like a little boy again.

What had this man learned manhood is? I wondered.

It was a question no one was asking. Maybe it seemed wrong to ask it. This was, after all, the women’s moment.

Still, the question came at me, as it had for so many years, since I was a young boy, when I had a similar burning question.

What’s it mean to be a man?

Hungry for answers, I searched around my suburban ranch house, looking for clues under pillows, in couches, under the kitchen table, anywhere around the empty rooms of my ranch home.

I looked on the streets, in the temple, in school. Nobody was teaching anything about manhood; my questions continued.

Does it mean to be project an image of “strength”? Even at a cost to others?

No, I thought, I knew plenty of men who dominated and screamed. That wasn’t a man. That was just a big cry baby trying to act like a man.

Does it mean to fight and win wars? Even if it’s an unwinnable war?

No. Even though I was young, being it the late 70’s, I knew enough about Vietnam and what a mess that was. A man helped organize others, not create chaos everywhere.

Does it mean to put down others to get your way?

Definitely not. I knew a bully when I saw one. And I had been bullied plenty.

My father was a man, but I only saw him here and there. He worked late. He played golf for hours on the weekends. I didn’t have much of a connection with him.

My brother was kind of a man. Three years older, he had muscles and size that dwarfed me. But he was just mean.

My gym teacher was a man, and he was manly – handsome, big muscles, a blue sparkle in the eyes, but something was vacant in him.

As a child, I sensed a void. Something was messed up. And yet I was just a kid.  I didn’t trust my perceptions.

In the absence of any meaningful teachings about manhood, I was left to my own devices to figure it out, as most boys are.

In high school, I emerged as a young man, with good grades, defined muscles, good looks, the ability to win over girls, and the charm to outwit other boys. But that got empty quickly.

By age eighteen, I had yet to meet a man who embodied what I imagined it meant to be a man – to be loving, to be kind, tender and to stand up to bullies, be fierce, and fight the good fight for justice.

Most men, in my experience, gave everything to work and checked out afterwards.

And so, in the absence of that man, I poured my heart and soul into becoming that man. I read books. I went to man rituals and man retreats. I got into a deep relationship with a woman.

I sought to be the man my female partner (later to become my wife and the mother of my child) needed me to be. I was loving, kind, and present. And because I was not yet a man, I obfuscated, slipped, and waivered in her presence. I mistook being there for her with rescuing the damsel in distress.

Over the years, that backfired. I got resentful and felt like a needy child, seeking attention often. In time, I understood I had needs too. I couldn’t just fix and give all the time. I even wrote a book about it, entitled Fixing You Is Killing Me.

There’s a fine line between a strong man and a cry baby.

Kavanaugh slipped on that line, in my opinion.  And yet, a swath of the country saw a strong man defending himself.

After 20 years in marriage, parenting a full-grown son, and 20 plus years of inquiry into what it means to be a man, I am clear about what it means to be a man.

A man can hold a woman’s words, her pain and challenges. A man can hold his tongue and listen. A man can guide her back to essence when he gets lost in her words. A man knows how to take care of himself and care for his partner.

A man can be tender and fierce. Tender to hold and love. Fierce to guide and direct.

It’s not easy. It takes a lot of work. It requires taking a deep hard look at himself. But the rewards are endless for the man, his family, and his community.

A Warrior’s Call For Men

May I be fierce.
May I be strong.
May I be tender.
May I be love.