Ode to a Normal Boy's Life

Males are being asked to adjust to a new worldview. Working wives and mothers expect them to help with cooking and childcare, not just take out the garbage. Athletes still have to hide their sexual preferences in locker rooms and frat houses. And, as Marvel comic hero, Luke Cage, observed, young black men have guns and no fathers.

     After Keanon Lowe, the football and track coach at Portland's Parkrose High School, wrestled a legally-purchased shotgun out of a male student's hand and hugged him, TIME magazine (Dec. 23-30, 2019) recognized Mr. Lowe as one of 2019's heroes. Lowe told the 19-year-old who he hugged that he cared about him. "You do?" he responded.  Prosecutors learned the shotgun had only one round. It had failed to fire, when the young man attempted to commit suicide outside a bathroom. Mental health treatment was part of his three-year sentence to probation.

     A boy's surprise that someone cared for him and the term, "toxic masculinity," suggest a need to nurture males differently. Between the ages of four and six, research finds boys begin to match their behavior to the expectations of others who tell them not to cry, show fear, or make mistakes. When they develop a strong bond with someone, that relationship has a major influence on how they see themselves. Boys are close observers of the way teachers relate to them, for example. Instead of positive encouragement, if boys have trouble with a subject, negative reactions undercut their confidence. To avoid the vulnerability of looking stupid and to maintain the sense of male superiority someone close to him expects, boys probably act out and get suspended.

     Maybe female students are more willing to try to resolve conflicts with women teachers, but it seems boys are naturally inclined not to try. Faced with a problem involving a teacher, parent, police officer, or other authority figure, boys have a natural tendency to quit and run away. Adults need to listen to boys, understand their problems, and brain storm ways to cope. My mother loved teenagers. When she taught remedial math to high school students in Chicago, she used to come home and tell us how she had found out about the strange, incorrect ways her students had decided to add a column of numbers. She also allowed no laughing at others in her classes.

     Boys looking for good relationships and listeners are susceptible to the approaches of predatory priests, coaches, boy scout leaders, and girl friends. When these relationships betray them, even making them victims of sexual abuse, the results are as devastating to boys who opened themselves to those they trusted as is the effect of a total lack of relationships on other boys . Such boys conclude no one cares about them. They might as well use a gun to show they don't care about anyone, including themselves.

     Equally troubling is the tendency the educational system has of assuming poverty, broken homes, and other traumas justify grouping all boys with such backgrounds in remedial classes rather than making an effort to separate out those who are gifted, nurtured in stable homes, or blessed with the genes and spiritual fortitude to overcome a less than perfect upbringing.

     What it comes down to is: boys want a relationship with someone who wants them to be themselves.

   

     

Grandmotherly Love

In a country of 16.5 million, Zimbabwe psychiatrist Dr. Dixon Chibanda suspected grandmothers could supplement the limited attention the country's twelve trained psychiatrists provided those with depression and mental problems.

     What gave Dr. Chibanda the idea for his Friendship Bench organization was the way grandmothers took time to listen and guide, rather than tell people what to do. According to an article in TIME magazine (February 18 - 25, 2019), the medical journal, JAMA, in 2016 reported the positive benefits of the Friendship Bench approach to training grandmothers to provide role-playing and other behavior therapies.

     For everyone who has tried to teach a grandparent to send an email or use a smartphone, the wisdom of elders seems outdated. In the area of interpersonal relations, however, who is a better adviser than someone married for 40 or 50 years? For some suffering mental anguish, "forgive and forget" might be the best message. But "forgive and remember tomorrow is another day" is often more appropriate.

      Grandmothers offer immediate appointments, when the decision to live or not live is about to be made in the heat of the moment. They also serve cookies and tea or wine and cheese.

      From their years of experience, grandmothers can dredge up examples of how they or their best friends have survived similar thoughts of suicide, being gay, having an abortion, killing screaming kids, gaining weight, growing older, or a spouse cheating on or ignoring them. They also know the child who says "I hate you" or "F... you" will need a hug or to borrow the car minutes later.

     Grandmothers have suffered financial and overbooked woes that have eased or prompted a necessary review of priorities. They know someone who you never expected will step up when you need help, that prayer works, and that there's a way to handle almost anything, because, like the commercial says, they've seen a thing or two.

     They know how to love. And they love you.

     Grandfathers are great, too, but that's another story.

"I Don't Like to Talk to People"

Sometimes a statistic jumps out at you. The December 2018/January 2019 issue of the AARP Magazine , originally targeted to "old" people over 55, reported one of its studies found, "a third of Americans over age 45 are lonely." There are seven billion people in the world, I thought, how is this possible?

     Then, I remembered hearing a young person, who was ordering pizza online, say, "I don't like to talk to people." In many parts of the world, modern life makes it possible to avoid talking to people. Besides ordering food, you can make appointments, do your banking, get a boarding pass, and order just about anything, from clothes to concert tickets to a date, online. Ear buds enable a person to cut off all contact with the outside world.

     When using social media to "talk" to people, I've noticed communication often is brief. If you venture a longer comment to express an opinion, you can be misunderstood or shutdown with an insulting reaction. Back and forth discussions frequently fail to exist.

     It also has become fashionable to reject God and to glorify the kind of individualism that makes people intolerant. They stop engaging in discussions with others and accept their own ideas as Gospel. Once someone casts aside the God-given Ten Commandments or teachings of Jesus, there is no universal secular moral code for a person to follow. It's easy to claim, "unbelievers can be highly moral people," but, through the centuries, people have substituted very questionable moral codes: white Europeans are better than blacks, browns, yellows, reds, and even Jews and dirty whites; capitalists decided they were free to make their own money-making rules because it's "survival of the fittest"; Ayn Rand said tap dancing was the only acceptable form of dancing, because it relied on rational thought not emotion.

     It seems there are many paths to loneliness. And there are many destructive remedies: suicide; joining a gang; addictions to food, alcohol, gambling, video gaming, exercise, couch potato binging, sex, and work; deciding not to talk to family members or to keep up with friends who are too stupid or who reject your ideas or lifestyle or you reject theirs.

     Over the past holiday season, I've heard people say, "Thanksgiving is just another day, and I'll be able to catch up on work." But I've also seen photos of smiling friends and couples traveling to different parts in the world. I've received a CD of a friend singing in a choir, and I've seen Facebook items from a mom proud of her son's performance as a hockey goalie. My granddaughter and I baked gingerbread cookies and argued about whether to use raisins or tiny chocolate chips for reindeer eyes. She asked me to name seven of her friends. I couldn't, but now I can.