Little Lancelot

How, oh how, to grow a boy?

My son turns 10 today. In our current culture of feminized and infantilized men (both men and women are guilty in this new form of masculinity that has been gutted of strength, vitality, achievement, success and actual manliness), I want to grow a “Good Man.” A man who will care about the world, his community, his family, and himself, and consistently work to make all of these better. A man who lives in his mind AND his body, has access to feelings AND ideas, a man who builds and inhabits a life that is exciting and challenging but also feels to him sufficient. A man who does acts of charity and kindness without being reminded or feeling obligated, but because they occur to him. A “Good Man” who is brave and loyal and willing to protect and defend and provide for others, who is not afraid to accept the guidance and love of a “Good Woman.” Tall order, but for those who know me, there’s no lack of high expectations I bring to bear on any situation.

So, how are we doing, you might want to know? I think we’re on track, with a couple of caveats.

First caveat: My kid hates team sports. My husband doesn’t like me to say this out loud, because he thinks I’m influencing my son’s lack of affinity for these sports, whereas I strongly defend my position as the one who is simply observing and interpreting my son’s behavior, giving it a name and allowing it to be understood. Who’s right? Probably both of us. I assume I can grow a “Good Man” who never participates in team sports. My husband, resident already-grown “Good Man” in our home, assures me that allowing a young boy to opt out of the team part of sports will weaken a boy – boys (here I’ll interject that what he’s referring to is boys-who-will-become-Good-Men) must learn to lead and follow, to sacrifice for the good of the team, to celebrate joint victories and survive the emotional hits of loss, so they can learn to keep going after failure. He wants him to learn duty and obligation to a team, to learn to experience physical exhaustion and pain and to continue to participate, if that’s what the team needs. Not to do these things for the wrong reasons – to gain parental approval, to create false senses of power, or to defy/deny the limits of one’s strengths and weaknesses – but to create the sense of masculine pride that requires effortful endeavors that lead to greater and greater strengthening of mind, body, relationships and sense of purpose. I’m hoping there’s a team sport in my son’s future he’ll take to – he’s just received his Red Belt in Karate, so he’s not completely un-embodied – maybe in middle school (although in our area, some middle schools consider Ultimate Frisbee a sport, and with absolutely no knowledge of what Ultimate Frisbee is, I’ve dismissed it and all it’s possibilities because it’s an activity done with a Frisbee. I’m likely to be proved completely wrong on this one once I actually learn what the darned sport is).

Second caveat: My son is an internalizer. He doesn’t act out, so he’s a pleasure to be around and no adult has ever disliked being in his company. But when he is frustrated or upset or sad, he is likely to turn it inward, implode a bit, shut down and lose access to words. Not for long, and not something very alarming. But when giant tears spring to his eyes and his face flushes red from anger/shame/sadness/frustration, it’s hard not to feel the hit of his emotional suffering. He rebounds quickly and is able to understand that feelings shift and change and that even hard moments will always pass. He processes the feelings, comes to understand them, and then re-enters the situation. But his temporary absence feels like weakness to me and I respond like any mammal to the smell of weakness and find myself getting angry. Nice response on my part, so I spend all my energy during his difficult moments refraining from trying to push him to immediate action.

OK, caveats out of the way, my gloating might be forgiven. Truthfully, he’s already well on his way to becoming a Good Man. He’s diligent about school and home, participates in household chores, does his homework, brushes his teeth twice a day (with reminders, of course, but still), doesn’t throw or slam anything when he’s angry, works hard, plays hard, is gracious to his friends (mostly, except when he can be slightly preachy or bossy, which happens easily with only children, but he’s training himself out of it), happy and light and quick-to-forgive. He cares what others think. He’s funny, sweet, and generous. He honors relationships even when they’re over. He made sure to give a birthday Rice Krispie treat to not just his current teacher yesterday, but to each of his former teachers all the way back to his kindergarten teacher, as well as the PE and music teacher, traipsing through the school’s hallways with a sense of purpose. He left a note on the desk next to the homemade morsel so they’d know who it was from. This is not a tradition in his school or in his class – it was all his idea.

And he’s becoming the kind of boy who is considerate and kind to girls, and is basking in the reward of having girls bestow their friendship and favor on him. Case in point: today’s birthday party. For the past few years, he’s had sleepover parties with a slew of boys – complex, multi-themed, feed-‘em-every-20-minutes endeavors that required my husband and I to be in sleep-away camp counselor mode. Did he want a sleepover party this year? Absolutely. Who did he want to invite? M_____. The newest, closest friend he made in class this year. M_____ is a girl. He then went on to list off 4 or 5 boys. Then, for M_____’s sake, so she wouldn't feel outnumbered, he invited 2 additional girls.

I told him that for a co-ed party, it couldn't be a sleepover, and it needed to be a daytime party. He asked if he could have boys and girls and then just have the girls go home and the boys stay for a sleepover. I explained that the girls might have their feelings hurt to be invited to only one part of a party, then be asked to leave. That was the end of this year’s sleepover idea. I’d suggested going to a place that offered go-karting, bumper boats, mini-golf and all kinds of indoor/outdoor activities, which sounded totally cool, and my son liked the idea. I previewed the place and learned that kids had to be taller than the cut-out wooden animal’s raised hand to drive their own go cart – and M_____ was shorter, meaning she’d have to ride with an adult; she’d be perfectly fine on all other games and activities. That was the end of the Activity Fun House.

So, my son chose a bowling party. Without his fully knowing it, he's having a birthday party to impress/include M_____ and make sure she's comfortable throughout. He’s behaved quite honorably toward her – a 10-year-old version of the masculine role to provide/protect that isn’t at all aimed at diminishing the girl, but of elevating and respecting her.

He asked me the other day to tell him again why it couldn't be a sleepover party with girls, and I told him that friendships with girls start to feel a little different at this age than they used to - and I asked him if he'd noticed that - and he said, "Oh, yes" with deep recognition and deeper appreciation and a quick flush to his cheeks. So I told him that he's at the point where bodies and feelings change a lot between boys and girls, and until he's a bit older and it makes more sense to him, it's the parent's job to keep the boys and girls' friendships to the daytime hours.

This one gal, M_____, is totally in to him. She gave him a pre-birthday card calling him her BFF. When I am in the classroom each week, M_____ makes a point of singling me out and bringing me into her relationship with him. She told me the other day, in earnest, holding each of my arms in hers and looking directly into my eyes, "I'm coming to your party on Saturday!" But of course it's not my party, it's my son’s. But this smart and vivacious little gal already can figure out that for this kind of boy, you better like his Mother, and you better not ask him to choose! Not because he’s on the path to becoming a Mama’s Boy, but because he’s a Good Man in the Making – what I’ll now call a GMITM.

Today’s birthday bowling party will celebrate that my son has turned 10. Three girls will be there, vying for this GMITM. So will 5 other boys. My son will be surrounded by people he likes, and will feel great that he crafted an experience where all his friends will feel welcome and comfortable. He’s an amazing kid, and we’ve helped grow him.

Happy Birthday, Little Lancelot.