|
Masculine, Feminine, or Human?
by Robert Jensen
In a guest lecture about masculinity to a college class, I ask
the students to generate two lists that might help clarify the concept:
For the first, I tell them to imagine themselves as parents whose
12-year-old son asks, “What does it mean to be a man?”
The list I write on the board as they respond is not hard to predict:
To be a man is to be strong, responsible, loving. Men provide for
those around them and care for others. A man weathers tough times
and doesn’t give up.
When that list is complete, I ask the women to observe while the
men answer a second question: When you are in all-male spaces, such
as the locker room or a night out with the guys, what do you say
to each other about what it means to be a man? How do you define
masculinity when there are no women present?
The students, both men and women, laugh nervously, knowing the
second list will be different from the first. The men fumble a bit
at first, as it becomes clear that one common way men define masculinity
in practice is not through affirmative statements but negative ones
— it’s about what a man isn’t, and what a real
man isn’t is a woman or gay. In the vernacular: Don’t
be a girl, a sissy, a fag. To be a man is to not be too much like
a woman or to be gay, which is in large part about being too much
like a woman.
From there, the second list expands to other descriptions: To be
a man is to be a player, a guy who can attract women and get sex;
someone who doesn’t take shit from people, who can stand down
another guy if challenged, who doesn’t let anyone else get
in his face. Some of the men say they have other ideas about masculinity
but acknowledge that in most all-male spaces it’s difficult
to discuss them.
When that process is over, I step back and ask the class to consider
the meaning of the two lists. On the first list of the culturally
endorsed definitions of masculinity, how many of those traits are
unique to men? Are women ever strong? Should women be strong? Can
women be just as responsible as men? Should women provide and care
for others? I ask the students if anyone wants to make the argument
that women are incapable of these things, or less capable than men.
There are no takers.
I point out the obvious: The list of traits that we claim to associate
with being a man — the things we would feel comfortable telling
a child to strive for — are in fact not distinctive characteristics
of men but traits of human beings that we value, what we want all
people to be. The list of understandings of masculinity that men
routinely impose on each other is quite different. Here, being a
man means not being a woman or gay, seeing relationships as fundamentally
a contest for control, and viewing sex as the acquisition of pleasure
from a woman.
I ask the class: If the positive definitions of masculinity are
not really about being a man but simply about being a person, and
if the definitions of masculinity within which men routinely operate
are negative, why are we holding onto the concept so tightly? Why
are we so committed to the notion that there are intellectual, emotional,
and moral differences that are inherent, that come as a result of
biological sex differences?
From there, I ask them also to think about what a similar exercise
around femininity might reveal? How might the patterns be similar
or different? If masculinity is a suspect category, it would seem
so is femininity.
I have repeated this discussion in several classes over the past
year, each time with the same result: Students are uncomfortable.
That’s not surprising, given the reflexive way our culture
accepts that masculinity and femininity are crucial and coherent
categories. People may define the ideal characteristics of masculinity
and femininity differently, but most people accept the categories
themselves. What if that’s misguided? What if the positive
attributes ascribed to “men” are simply positive human
characteristics distributed without regard to gender, and the negative
ones are the product of toxic patriarchal socialization?
Because the questions flow from their own observations and were
not imposed by me, the discomfort is intensified. It’s difficult
to shrug this off as just one more irrelevant exercise in abstract
theory by a pontificating professor. Whatever the conclusion the
students reach, the question is on the table in a way that’s
difficult to dismiss.
It’s obvious that there are differences in the male and female
human body, most obviously in reproductive organs and hormones.
It is possible those differences are significant outside of reproduction,
in terms of broader patterns concerning intellectual, emotional,
and moral development. But given our limited knowledge about such
complex questions, there isn’t much we can say about those
differences. In the absence of definitive answers, I prefer to be
cautious. After thousands of years of patriarchy in which men have
defined themselves as superior to women in most aspects of life,
leading to a claim that male dominance is natural and inevitable,
we should be skeptical about claims about these allegedly inherent
differences between men and women.
Human biology is pretty clear: People are born male or female,
with a small percentage born intersexed. But how we should make
sense of those differences outside reproduction is not clear. And
if we are to make sense of it in a fashion that is consistent with
justice — that is, in a feminist context — then we would
benefit from a critical evaluation of the categories themselves,
no matter how uncomfortable that may be.
Robert Jensen is a journalism professor at the University of
Texas at Austin and board member of the Third Coast Activist Resource
Center
|