The Making of a man

Avatar, as many movies that deal with indigenous themes and rituals—even on a somewhat surface level—again points out that finding one’s manhood comes from finding what one believes, and perhaps going through a crisis of faith (religious or not).

Perhaps the reason such stories are so attractive to an American audience, in particular (aside from the superlative computer graphics) is that we, as a culture, lack rituals for not only women, but especially our men. Women, if they have a child, have the natural test of mettle (especially if they forego painkillers) that childbirth provides though the measure of their womanhood goes much beyond this. Men, however, have no such natural “test.”

Schools have exit exams, but there is no “entry exam” into adulthood. College students may try to survive hazings and may try to party their way into adulthood. Although the military provides a scenario in which a person can test their own mettle, there is no other nationally or “common American” culturally accepted place for a young man or woman to do so in a way that they may not have to kill another human. One has to really be into the search and be willing to go to the fringe in order to find that type of experience. And our children are not taught to search things out on their own these days. They are taught to swallow and regurgitate facts.

Certainly, gangs are one way to discover one’s machismo, but as many former gang members will attest, shooting others in the name of territory is not the way to prove manhood. Rather, the way a man carries himself, the ethics he holds inside him, and the way he manifests those ethics in his everyday actions that attest to his “manhood.” To react in defense if the sign of a boy; to plan and anticipate action in accordance with one’s ethics is the sign of a man.

As a nation, we do not provide this for our young people. Our system that focuses on entering the economic machine as soon as possible either to survive or to get ahead promotes rushing. Young people are not allowed to take the time to observe, to see how the world—both natural and human nature—works in a way that creates the wisdom needed to grow into a mature human being. One must be willing to take a non-traditional route, and the opportunity costs of taking this route can be great the way our society is structured.

Taking a year to explore a particular part of the world is almost unheard of these days. That’s one year less spent earning money, one year more of expenses, one year of not helping to support one’s family. Exit exams and competency testing train students that they always must pass a particular knowledge set to avoid being penalized rather than teaching them the value of exploration to move forward. The result is a nation of people who have a very narrow view of life, who feel that nature is exotic, and that self-exploration is only allowed in a time of crisis.

Perhaps focusing on infusing the classics and mythology throughout the standard K-12 curriculum would help open up students to the idea that growth is more than just measurable height or an increase in test scores, but rather an understanding of how the world and cultures—past and present—connect to each other. That people move through their own personal heroic journeys, and that many succumb along the way. Perhaps such an understanding would allow the permission needed for young people to explore the world and who they are rather than test their boundaries with how much alcohol they can drink. Perhaps it would allow those who are older to understand that their struggles have historic precedence and that they are not alone. One is not a freak to go out in the woods, by one’s self, and just see how you deal with being alone. No I-phone. No laptop. No drinking. Just being. And observing what’s around you.