The Complete Parenting Collection. Steve Biddulph
a few of the big fish in the small pond that some have called ‘the Men’s Movement’. We agreed that what the nation most urgently needs right now is a massive infusion of strong, noble, loving, nurturing, healthy masculine energy to counteract America’s malaise, impotence and social pathologies. We talked a lot about the importance of fathers, both as an archetypal metaphor and as a practical reality.
Back in the fast-food parking lot, I warily approached the three young, black-haired, brown-skinned men.
‘How ya doing?’ I said calmly and evenly. ‘I’m trying to get to LAX and I’m running late. The cabs and the phones aren’t cooperating. How much money would you need to take me?’
They looked at each other. One of them in a white T-shirt said to the one who must have been the driver, ‘Go for it, man.’ The driver hesitated.
I said, ‘Name a price that makes it worth your while.’
He looked straight at me. ‘Ten bucks,’ he said.
‘I’ll give you twenty.’
‘Let’s do it, man,’ said the T-shirted youth. The driver nodded and popped the trunk.
‘You wanna put your suitcase here?’
‘No, thanks,’ I answered straight back. The image of being forced empty-handed out of the car was clear in my mind. ‘I’d rather keep it with me.’
‘That’s cool,’ ‘the T-shirt’ said.
So there I was, entrusting my life to what I hoped to be ‘positive male energy’. I was thinking we should go west to Lincoln Avenue. We headed east. Now what?
But then we turned south and soon we were on a freeway. I knew it could have been stupid, but I took out my wallet, removed a twenty and said to the driver, ‘Here, I want to pay you now’. The driver took it with a simple ‘Thanks’.
‘So here I am, guys,’ I said. ‘I sure hope you’re going to take care of me.’
T-shirt, sitting in the back seat with me, my suitcase between us, smiled knowingly and said, ‘It’s okay, man. We’re good guys.’
I nodded and shrugged. ‘I sure hope so, because if you’re not, I’m in big trouble, aren’t I?’
They all laughed, and then T-shirt spoke up. ‘So where you from?’
‘Baltimore,’ I answered.
‘Oh, man, it’s nice back east. That’s what they say. Green and everything.’
I smiled and nodded, ‘Yeah. And back east, LA is our idea of heaven.’
‘Naah, it’s rough here, man. It’s hard.’ T-shirt was clearly going to be the spokesman.
Every issue we men’s movement guys had talked about during our conference in the mountains was in this car. It was time for a reality check.
‘How old are you guys?’ I asked.
They were sixteen and seventeen. They were all in school and had part-time jobs. T-shirt and the driver worked in a restaurant. The quiet young man riding shotgun didn’t say.
‘Tell me about the gangs. Are there gangs at your school?’
‘There’s gangs everywhere, man. Everywhere. It’s crazy.’
‘Are you guys in a gang?’ I asked.
‘No way, man.’
‘Why not?’ I wondered.
‘Because there’s no hope in it. You just get a bullet in your head.’
‘Yeah, but what hope is there for you outside the gang?’
‘I don’t know. I just want to get a future. Do something.’
‘What’s the difference between you guys and the guys in the gangs?’
‘I don’t know, man. We just don’t want to do it.’
‘Yeah, but why not? What’s the difference?’ I gently pressed.
‘I don’t know, man. I don’t know. We’re just lucky I guess.’
I let the question sit for a moment, then started up. ‘What about fathers? Do you have a father at home?’ I asked the youth in the back seat with me.
‘Yeah. I do.’
‘How about you?’ I asked the driver.
‘Yeah, I got a dad.’
‘Living with you?’
‘Yeah.’ And the shotgun rider volunteered, ‘I got a dad, too.’
‘How about the guys in the gangs? Do they have fathers living with them?’
‘No way, man. None of them do.’
‘So maybe fathers make a difference?’ I suggested.
‘Absolutely, man. Absolutely.’
‘Why?’ I probed. ‘What difference does a father make?’
‘He’s always behind you, man, pushing you. Keeping you in line.’ ‘Yeah. Telling you what’s what,’ driver and shotgun agreed.
And I was taken safely right where I needed to go. On time. Without a hitch. The driver even asked what terminal I wanted.
I met eighteen amazing men at the conference in the mountains. I am eternally grateful for their wisdom and their urge to heal the nation. But the most amazing men I met on my trip were these three, Pablo, Juan and Richard – amazing because, in spite of everything, they were trying to be good.
And the men to whom I am most grateful are the men I never met. The men to whom I am most grateful are their fathers. It was their fathers who got me to the airport. It was their fathers who kept me safe.
Teaching boys to respect women
One day, in his early to mid-teens, each boy makes a very important discovery. A light globe goes on above his head. It suddenly occurs to him that he is bigger than his mother! Even the sweetest, gentlest boy just can’t help realising, sooner or later: ‘She can’t make me do it!’
The thought leads to action and, sooner or later, a boy will try to get the best of Mum by bluffing or intimidating her, even in subtle ways. This is an important teaching moment. Don’t panic, it isn’t necessary to worry or get scared.
Picture this if you will. Fourteen-year-old Sam is in the kitchen. Sam’s job is to do the dishes – clear them up, scrape them off, put them in the dishwasher and switch it on. No big deal – he’s done it since he was nine. But last night, he didn’t finish the job. So, tonight, when his mother goes to get the dishes from the dishwasher (to serve up the meal his father has cooked!) they are in there, unwashed, with green fur growing on them.
Sam’s mum naturally pulls him up. ‘What’s happened?’ But tonight Sam is fourteen! He heaves his shoulders back, he stalks about. Perhaps he speaks a little disrespectfully to his mother, under his breath.
Now let’s imagine this family is really lucky. One, it includes a father. Two, he’s home. And, three – he knows his job!
Sam’s father is in the lounge room reading the paper (kind of keeping an overview of things). He picks up on what is going on in the kitchen. This is his cue! Something deep inside him has been waiting for this moment.