Boys Will Be Boys? Don’t Bet On It!

168

[dropcap]F[/dropcap]eign surprise if you must. The sad truth is that even in this age of miracles and wonder otherwise enlightened parents continue to pray their offspring will turn out to be “normal men and women”—a prayer that has less to do with health, intellect and character than with sexual preferences. I suspect it may be, for the unfortunate producers of proclaimed deviants, something of a face-saving convenience to claim same-sex activity is an acquired taste; an abomination deserving of the same penalties suffered by the worst criminals. Those who say people are “born that way” often must live with the secret guilt that they must somehow be responsible for the proclivities of their sons and daughters.

When America sneezes, so the saying goes, the rest of the world catches a cold. Would it be too much of a stretch to imagine in the near future same-sex marriages and “we are pregnant” public declarations by male twosomes?

An increasing number of American and European women are banding together in a concerted effort to redefine “a normal man.” For the reborn mothers and mothers to be, it is a terrible thing that little boys should be encouraged in their own homes, their schools and elsewhere to be “just like Daddy” when they grow up. They would prefer that tomorrow’s daddies bear no resemblance to the current model. It would seem the very attributes once synonymous with being “a normal man”—for which men were universally admired—their natural instinct for hunting for food and for protecting their women and their offspring; their superior physical strength as compared to naturally delicate women; how rich and influential they were; the way they left cooking and sewing and changing baby nappies to the ladies while they tended to more demanding and dangerous activities; how they performed in the workplace; their boundless energy where it counted most; their obvious masculinity;  their power—yes, all of these characteristics now amount to the tell-tale markings of The Beast. (No more of that “you bring out the beast in me, babe” bullshit!)

Remember My Fair Lady? Remember Professor Higgins performing the musical’s most memorable number?: Why Can’t A Woman Be More Like A Man?/Men are so honest, so perfectly square/Eternally noble, historically fair/Who, when you win, will always give your back a pat/Why can’t a woman be more like that?/ Why does every one do what the others do?/Can’t a woman learn to use her head?/Why do they do everything their mothers do?/Why don’t they grow up like their fathers instead?

If only we’d paid more heed to St. Teresa of Avila. If only we’d been more careful what we prayed for. The dream of the earlier cited mostly white big-city ladies is that males will overnight become more like females, and the rules of the mating game be rewritten. The campaigners for change have nearly all declared themselves casualties of the sex-initiator role that for eons men had taken upon themselves. In the United States and in Britain, countless women in so-called  “pink pussyhats,” and armed with an unprecedented collective sense of recall, are spouting similar stories of outrageous abuse, in some cases going back half a century. So powerful has their army become that writers, lawyers, and other one-time reliable protectors of the innocent until proven guilty concept cower before them.

The pussyhatters (dare I spell that word with just one t?) can recall in amazing detail hotel suites, words uttered in the heat of bedroom activity—before and after pants were dropped, regardless of how long ago. They had by their own account committed to memory the penis peculiarities of A-list movie stars by the score; the orgasmic grunts of film producers with power to make or break careers. That a great many of the alleged abuses had occurred decades earlier, when the complainants were young and vulnerable, say, age 20-22, has been hardly enough to raise eyebrows. Not at media houses with enough clout to have brought down presidents in the United States and other political goliaths throughout Europe. Even more stunning is that while countless established Hollywood moguls have bowed to the pussyhats, few if any of the takedown complaints have been heard by a judge and jury.

Men in high places have also had their wings and other essential body parts clipped, simply for saying they had no idea their thespian friends could get off only while masturbating before an audience. There is no shortage of pussyhatted females eager to swear on TV that yes, right after such and such fearsome fiend exposed himself to a certain teenaged ingénue forty years ago his utterly humiliated victim had confided in them.

Meanwhile, even as one powerhouse or another is being castrated in the public square, little boys as we’ve always known them are being taught by their moms and re-engineered dads to cuddle everything in the presumed color of love and tenderness; to eschew as toys from the devil’s workshop such items as balloons bearing the images of toothy sharks; plastic trucks and guns; and rubber soldiers in battle gear. Among the pussyhatters are female writers who claim their unique way with words was never enough to get them into coveted chairs. It would appear rape and every variety of egregious female abuse by men over the centuries could’ve been avoided had the abusers never set eyes on colors other than pink, never played with toy soldiers and red balloons, and were never encouraged as little boys to be just like Daddy—unless, presumably, Daddy happened to be doppelgangers of Caitlyn Jenner, Elton John and his fecund wife David.

But while the former protectors of home and hearth line up to declare themselves “gender-fluid” supporters of pussyhatters here, there and everywhere, others—mainly women, not surprisingly—are crying out against what they see as the feminization of boys. Among those leading the charge is Christina Hoff Sommers, author of The War Against Boys. What she has to say about misguided women armed with false statistics and a determination to “rescue boys from their masculinity” is truly eye-opening and, yes, scary.

Wrote Sommers in an op-ed that appeared in the New York Times: “We need to raise boys and girls to be more caring and considerate human beings. If an 11-year-old girl wants to play football and has the ability to compete with guys, then let her play. My guess is that most boys would agree—and if she is a great player, their desire to win will vanquish whatever urge they have to stereotype. But integrating football teams in junior high so girls have more options is hardly the most pressing equity issue in education. Boys are now the have-nots in education. The real challenge for the nation’s schools is to make the classroom more inclusive—for boys.”

As for the #Me Too movement, Sommers writes in New York’s Daily News: “We’re at imminent risk of turning it into a frenzied rush to blame all men. The fall of Harvey Weinstein and other celebrity sex monsters feels like a cultural turning point. The social contract between men and women is being rewritten before our very eyes. There is a new resolve to make the workplace more respectable for women—for everyone. But before we consider all men guilty of harassment or abuse until proven innocent, a reality check is in order. Most of the sensational harassment cases in the media involved high-profile men working in unusual environments with little or no accountability. That suggests they are atypical.”

Obviously there’s a lot more to be said about this apparent determination to make men more like women, never mind that men who (if only by their mannerisms) remind more of females than males are persecuted almost everywhere—and in some countries thrown off the tops of tall buildings. Are we comfortable with cross-dressers on our streets and other public places? If not, why not? Not so long ago some male models attracted much negative publicity to themselves when they strolled down the ramp flashing their six-packs and painted lips.

Then there is the matter of cultural differences . . . ah, but perhaps we should let that rest until another time. My wish at this point is to kick-start a national conversation in this country where same-sex marriage is not only illegal but also unthinkable; where gays stand up for their rights at their own risk. Saint Lucia is dangerous ground even for lawyers who permit themselves to be seen as human rights activists. I predict, dear reader, it won’t be long before someone decides what Saint Lucians are most in need of at this time is our own #Me Too movement—to go with its sexual offenders register. Count on it, that someone will not be a politician seeking office. So now, who will be first to discuss with me on TALK the notion that parents should teach their boys at an early age to be more like girls? You know how to reach me!