Men Change? Where’s The Remote?

What do men want, anyway?

Danged if we know. Explaining it would require introspection, sensitivity and a willingness to explore our feelings. Unfortunately, those traits don’t come on a Y chromosome. Are we not men? Are we not clueless? Won’t a compassionate woman take pity on us and tell us what we want?

Pretty please?

Forget all the discussions of race and the debates over the mixed messages of Louis Farrakhan. You don’t have to be black to have been moved by the Million Man March. Of course, only half of the hoped-for men actually showed up. But when it comes to keeping our commitments, that’s a pretty good performance. If we did as well with our marriage vows, our child-support payments and the other promises we make to women and children - and to ourselves - the country would be doing a lot better than it is.

Above and beyond the race question that was the focus of the Million Man March, there was something awe-inspiring and hopeful about the throng of men that came together for a common purpose and to take a stand on behalf of the ideal of brotherhood. Somewhere, at our core, men need to believe in something greater than Monday Night Football, stock car racing and whiskey.

That’s why Farrakhan’s call for black men to be responsible for their actions struck such a responsive chord. That’s why millions of men across the country have attended those Promise Keepers rallies in football stadiums (a forum that mixes the macho atmosphere of football with the soul-stirring testimonies of men who aren’t afraid to weep in public or profess their beliefs in a God who calls men to a higher purpose. No wimps here.) It’s why preachers and politicians are calling on men to fulfill their obligations, to take care of their families, to stop hurting each other.

Not everyone is applauding wholeheartedly. Many women fear - with reasonable grounds - that some men would like to go back to the days when women were subservient. Many members of the political and cultural elites who scoff at religious belief want to write off the stirrings among men as some kind of fundamentalist fad for the Bubbas and the Black Muslims.

It might be much deeper than that. And much more important. American men may be finally bottoming out. We may, to borrow from the phrasebook of Alcoholics Anonymous, be reaching the point where we are sick and tired of being sick and tired. We may, at last, be ready to get better.

Since the great crusade of World War II, men in this country have had no common cause. And since the assassinations of the 1960s and the disillusionments of the 1970s and 1980s, there have been few men to admire on a national scale. So we have wandered through decades of prosperity, self-indulgence and social decay until we have arrived at a time when our heroes, as men, are … who? Athletes? Movie stars? Politicians? Bill Clinton?

Men are pond scum, women like to say, kiddingly. But there have been times when we have been willing to believe it.

Most men have no real heroes. The fortunate ones are lucky enough to think of their fathers as inspirations. But many do not. And many millions more of our sons - the men of tomorrow - have no fathers. And so, we have been searching for role models, for wisdom, for examples. Sometimes in ways that seem silly or pointless.

Some men have banged on drums and followed Robert Bly into the woods for a weekend to try to get in touch with the “warrior” inside although history does not offer much in the way of a suggestion that what we need is more warriors. Some have joined men’s groups where the focus, too often, has been on blaming the women in our lives who beat us down with their incessant demands for friendship, intimacy and help with carrying in the groceries. And others of us hide from our feelings and our families by hiding behind the bottle, the job or the remote-control clicker.

It isn’t easy being a man in a man’s world.

But we may be getting ready to stand up, look in the mirror, and try.

And man oh man, it’s about time.

xxxx