I’m trying to be a good guy in a stressed out world.

I think (a lot) about marriage, fatherhood, character, and leadership. I write for people who strive to be good and want to contribute at home, work, and in their communities.

Coming to you with love from Detroit, Michigan.

When men dream bigger

As a man in America, I feel like I operate in a bit of a no-man’s land between the cultures of men and women.

On the one hand, there’s the culture of men. It’s the culture of ambition, being the king of the hill, and dominating others. It’s the culture predicated on the notion of “might makes right.” Some people call it patriarchy, some call it locker room culture, some call it toxic masculinity. 

I don’t really care to call it anything, I just know that I am alienated by it. I’m not particularly “macho”. I tried to fake it for awhile when I was younger, but as time passed I’ve realized that I don’t want to partake in that particular culture that groups of men tend to devolve into. Even though I often feel like I have to fit that mold of a man to be respected and rewarded for my efforts, especially in professional settings, I don’t want to be like “one of the guys.”

At the same time, the community of women is not a haven for me either - I don’t fit in there, even though it’s fairly inclusive and I’d like to. 

But even though I feel solidarity with thinkers and organizations like Brene Brown, Melinda Gates, the US Women’s National Team, Mary Barra, Michele Obama, and Reese Witherspoon’s Book club - and if I’m being honest, look to them as role models - I just never feel quite like I can belong there, even if the issue is my own mindset. For example, if I participate in something that’s by-women, for women (like a Women’s Leadership Development group event at work) I personally feel like I must participate as an advocate / ally, rather than as a beneficiary - even though I feel alienated by the patriarchy and limited by the glass ceiling, too. Even if it’s in my own head, I just can’t be part of that tribe.

Between those two spaces is where I feel like I operate - I don’t want to be part of the dominant men’s culture, but don’t feel like I belong in cultures by women, and for women, either. That place of invisibility is my no-man’s land. I don’t have any empirical evidence of this yet, but my intuition is that a growing number of us men feel like we are in this invisible, voiceless, no-man’s land too. That bothers me.

I can think of two ways to make this no-man’s land into a place that feels more like home.

The first path I can think of is diversity. I’ve noticed that when I’m among a diverse group of men (in any and every sense of the word) the dominant male culture feels tempered. It’s like the pressure to compete is off if the dudes around you aren’t even trying to fill the same niche you are. 

I think my closest high-school guy-friends are a good example of this dynamic. We run the gamut of professions, life experiences, politics, religiosity and interests. Between us we have: a corporate drone (me), a bar manager, a federal public servant, a software developer, a quant, a show-businesses tech, and a priest. We cover three different races, most of the political spectrum, and live in four different states now. 

When we’re together, I feel almost none of that dominant male culture. We have no reason do anything but celebrate and support each other because we’re not trying to be the king of the same hill.

The other path out of this no-man’s land (that I can think of, at least) is dreaming bigger. 

I was lucky to get to know one of the OGs of Detroit - I’ll call him Mr. B here, when I was working for the Detroit Police Department. He was one of our close community partners, and he would often speak at community events associated with the gang violence prevention program I worked on. He had endless energy, motivation, and wisdom. One of his ideas that I’ll never forget is that, “it’s a dangerous thing when a man stops dreaming.” I’ve reflected on this idea for years now.

If we, as men, dreamed bigger and more generously I feel like we might be able to create a different culture for ourselves. Because when you are dreaming of bigger things that raise up ourselves, our communities, and our world - we realize that the same-old hill we’ve been trying to become a king of, is small-minded. When we set our sights on a compelling vision that’s generous, virtuous, and benefits others we have a reason to stop thinking about one-upping other people and trying to get to the top of that same imaginary, one-dimensional hill. The dream expands our horizons and gives us the chance to transcend our our personal egos. 

When we, as men, dream bigger, we have better things to do than be assholes that behave aggressively and try to dominate others - because any time that’s not spent on reaching that big, difficult dream is wasted. It’s just a whole different dynamic when we’re dreaming big (assuming that dream is not selfish or ego-driven) because instead of fighting over the same hill, we realize that the world is a big place, there are hills for all of us, and that we can help each other on the climb.

For me at least, the challenge of a big dream gives me a reason to break the boundaries and chains of the culture I’m in and an implied permission to create a new culture. Which is why I think (and hope) it’s a path out of this no-man’s land.

I feel this tension and alienation from the dominant male culture damn near every day of my life. It’s grueling and exhausting. Some days I want to just give up and let myself fade into that dominant male culture. But I just can’t. We just can’t. We will get out of this no-man’s land if we stick with it.

If you enjoyed this post, you'll probably like my new book - Character By Choice: Letters on Goodness, Courage, and Becoming Better on Purpose. For more details, visit https://www.neiltambe.com/CharacterByChoice.

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