“If you do ever decide to go on testosterone,
build yourself into a good man.
build yourself into a good man.
The last thing the world needs
is another misogynist prick."
is another misogynist prick."
["One in Every Crowd", Ivan Coyote]
A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of going to a book reading by Ivan Coyote. It was an excellent time. It was insightful. It was emotional. I came away with an incredible reverence and respect for Ivan as an excellent speaker and masterful storyteller. Ivan is not just spouting off a few ideas from a text here; this is an emotionally-charged experience for the listener and I can only imagine gut-wrenching for the speaker. I am astounded that they have the fortitude to do this day in and day out, sharing so much of themselves with others. I know, from my own experience, how draining writing something deeply personal can be. Frankly, I've sometimes cried when writing certain entries in this blog. (A few of late would make for pretty obvious guesses.) I often re-read things I've written in the past, and sometimes cry again when I do. To me, the idea of standing before a crowd of people to read something like that aloud, multiple times a week or even a day... I am amazed and impressed. They have a huge heart.
Ivan is an altogether fascinating person. This was their eleventh book, and they were holding a writing seminar a few days later. I haven't read any of these books, though I do hope to some day, because from the excerpts I'm sure I would find them quite fascinating. They have a clever way of playing with blending particularly fine details with broader strokes in a way that focuses your attention to put you in a similar emotional space. These days, sadly, reading is one of those things where my aspirations far exceed the time I allot to them, and I have a backlog of "books to read" dating back a few years stacked on and in my nightstand. I look forward to retiring some day and getting caught up on all this stuff.
I thought long and hard about going to their seminar but eventually decided not to. My relationship with my own writing is kind of a strange one. It's complicated, but I'm not sure I'm ready to get into why right here right now, so let's put a pin in that. (This collection of pins lately is starting to grow. I'll get to them some day, I swear.) I will just add this: it's not my intention that my writing will only ever be exclusively about the current elephant in the room. There are a number of well-written parent-of-transgender blogs out there, and I don't want to ever confine myself to writing about one particular topic or one particular aspect of my life, and especially when there are already better writers to be found on those topics. Yes, gender-related issues have been a big part of what's on my mind this past number of months, obviously, but certainly not the only thing. (Since the last thing the world needs right now is one more vitriolic rant about why a certain American candidate for president is lower than pond scum, I'll spare you that one though.)
However, having said that, since issues around "masculinity" and what "man" means have been forefront in my mind these days, apologies, but... here's one more trip to that same well.
Ivan is an altogether fascinating person. This was their eleventh book, and they were holding a writing seminar a few days later. I haven't read any of these books, though I do hope to some day, because from the excerpts I'm sure I would find them quite fascinating. They have a clever way of playing with blending particularly fine details with broader strokes in a way that focuses your attention to put you in a similar emotional space. These days, sadly, reading is one of those things where my aspirations far exceed the time I allot to them, and I have a backlog of "books to read" dating back a few years stacked on and in my nightstand. I look forward to retiring some day and getting caught up on all this stuff.
I thought long and hard about going to their seminar but eventually decided not to. My relationship with my own writing is kind of a strange one. It's complicated, but I'm not sure I'm ready to get into why right here right now, so let's put a pin in that. (This collection of pins lately is starting to grow. I'll get to them some day, I swear.) I will just add this: it's not my intention that my writing will only ever be exclusively about the current elephant in the room. There are a number of well-written parent-of-transgender blogs out there, and I don't want to ever confine myself to writing about one particular topic or one particular aspect of my life, and especially when there are already better writers to be found on those topics. Yes, gender-related issues have been a big part of what's on my mind this past number of months, obviously, but certainly not the only thing. (Since the last thing the world needs right now is one more vitriolic rant about why a certain American candidate for president is lower than pond scum, I'll spare you that one though.)
However, having said that, since issues around "masculinity" and what "man" means have been forefront in my mind these days, apologies, but... here's one more trip to that same well.
There were things that Ivan said that struck chords with me. There were a number of things. And now, a few weeks later, several of them are still swimming around in my head. I knew they would be when I left that room that night. I shook their hand and told them they were a good storyteller, because I knew they had done to me what the very thing I endeavor to do to others when I write: they left 'splinters in my mind'.
There's nothing more insidious than a clever idea, is there? Weeks later: splinters still in my mind. If I ever see Ivan again, I'll want to shake my head, say "bastard", shake their hand, and hope they know how much a compliment that is. (I probably won't, but I'd like to.)
The most prominent splinter right now is the idea of 'smashing the patriarchy'. I'd already been thinking and writing about 'what is masculinity anyway?' Perhaps Ivan caught me at just the right time, really. I'd already been dwelling in a place, mentally, where I was saying "machismo has to go". I have come to think a lot these days about "what kind of a man" I want to help Dan become. Ultimately, he will be who he will be - I get that - but right now I'm in a position to help, to influence. I am in a position to show, by example, what I consider 'positive masculine traits' to be.
This a responsibility I feel every parent bears. I take responsibilities very seriously. It's simply insufficient to tell your child how to behave. You have to show them. The idea of kids "turning into their parents" when they grow up is a cliché precisely because it's so bloody common. Can I content myself with the idea that I'm "a good guy" or do I not have a larger burden to "be the guy worthy of that child's admiration and emulation"?
So I'm making a commitment to cry more openly in public.
Yep, you read that right.
It was one of Ivan's asks for males. Let's destroy the macho myth of stoicism and insensitivity. Screw that. Let's tear that statue down. I'm there. Now I'm not talking melodramatic bullshit, obviously. I'm talking genuine displays of emotion. I'm not one for faking. I have a hard time even mustering up a smile for a photograph. No, no, I just mean not even bothering with the "there's something in my eye!" excuse. Get hit in the feels? Own it!
I've cried quietly at Pixar movies in the past but hid it. Hell, I'm sure I've welled up at commercials more than once. No more hiding. Maudie made me well up, but I didn't quite get there. (Great film though!) I don't recall what else of late has hit me right in the heart. Oh wait, right. Duh! Ivan made me well up too.
I want a world where men are
I've allowed myself a lot more raw emotionalism of late than I have in a long time. Shedding the invisible cloaks the charlatan tailors stitch for us isn't easy. But it is worthwhile. It's been rough at times. There was a period of days after Truth Table where I felt like I was walking in a daze and just wanted to curl up in bed and stay there a while until I felt whole again. That particular sentence in the middle of it was so hard to write.
I believe that accepting the authenticity of your own life experience without denying yourself things like grief is key to personal growth. How are you expecting to develop fully if you deny half the inputs? So much of what holds us back, so much that separates us from the happiness to which we all aspire, are the very chains we forge for ourselves when we invest too much concern in the opinions of others. The myth of macho is just one of many such things. And yeah, I'm just as foolish and fragile as anyone. I care, when I know I shouldn't. I like the approval, no matter how much I know I shouldn't let myself require it. I'm not claiming to be better or braver than anyone else.
I'm just saying that I believe it's worth the struggle. Struggle to be honest with yourself. Struggle to be honest with others. Struggle to be honest that you're struggling.
And goddamn, I do enjoy a good rom-com now and then, ya know?
