Real Boys

by William Pollack

Try to remember, for instance, the kind of teacher who assigned tasks that students could actually do reasonably well if they tried, who explained why an answer was wrong (rather than berating the student who gave the incorrect response), and who helped each student—so long as that student was making a good-faith effort—to feel good about the academic progress he or she was making. Then imagine how different your experience would have been if that teacher was one who, instead, always taught students using problems that were far above their skill level, or who, every time a student offered an answer in class that was wrong, signaled that the student was a “zero” or a “loser,” or who told his or her students that if they couldn’t get 100 percent on all their tests or couldn’t achieve straight A’s, they would be considered failures. Obviously the first kind of teacher ends up helping a broad range of students, including those who are naturally bright as well as those who struggle academically, those who feel secure as well as those who are less sure of themselves. The second kind, by contrast, assists only a small segment of students—either those who are already very knowledgeable or those with incredibly tough skins.

  Likewise, when you’re teaching sports—or when you’re advising somebody else who is—make sure they’re set up so that boys at all skill levels can participate and master the game, so that boys receive plenty of encouragement, so that winning is not hailed as being everything. Remember that shaming—in word or deed—is never an acceptable coaching technique.

  Do all that you can to foster the transformative experience of sports. This means encouraging boys to be emotive (but cautioning them against being overly aggressive or hostile toward others); supporting the close, affectionate relationships they develop with their teammates (but interrupting excessive teasing or taunting); providing as much positive feedback as possible to help boost their feelings of confidence (but not pushing them to become obsessive about how strong or successful they are as athletes); and modeling a good attitude about losing, one that helps them, in a positive way, to learn from their weaknesses and failures. All of this can be achieved whether you do it by getting directly involved or by overseeing how your son is coached.

  Insist upon multitiered athletic programs that address boys’ varying levels. Just as most schools assign students to various classes based on their relative scholastic abilities, athletic programs should ideally be structured so that they embrace all boys at all skill levels. For example, in an after-school soccer program, some coaches have found it helpful—rather than just having varsity and junior varsity teams—to set up three, four, or even five different teams. In some cases these teams are divided by skill level, and in some cases they are set up so that boys with top athletic skills are mixed in with boys with less advanced skills. Another approach is to create an intramural system where teams that are not ready to play against teams from other schools practice side by side with teams that are ready to take on such outside competition. Insist that your boy’s school implement programs that are creative in providing such diverse opportunities for boys at all levels of athletic achievement.

  Encourage your boy’s school to “guyify.” Just as during the 1960s and 1970s schools began to give girls increased opportunities to play female versions of sports traditionally enjoyed exclusively by boys—such as baseball, basketball, and hockey—I believe the time has come for schools to broaden their perspective by “guyifying” aspects of sports typically thought of being appropriate only for girls. For example, some school systems have “guyified” cheerleading so that boys who are less comfortable on the field—and more comfortable encouraging their teammates from the sidelines—can become cheerleaders without fear of ridicule and without feeling left out of the game.

  Encourage coed sports. In a similar vein, coed sports provide an excellent opportunity for many boys. This means not only allowing girls to play on boys’ teams or to play sports typically thought of as being “for boys only,” but also allowing boys to play on the girls’ teams and to play sports typically thought of as being “for girls only.” I know some schools, for instance, that now have coed field hockey, lacrosse, basketball, and volleyball. On the whole, coed sports tend to be set up in a way that allows for a greater level of participation (and confidence building) among kids of all different shapes, sizes, and abilities. Coed sports can be wonderfully transformational for boys (and for girls) and should be vigorously encouraged.

  Use sports to teach boys to respect their bodies and learn respect for their limits. Finally, as we saw earlier in this chapter, some boys go too far in how they play and train for sports. Some extend themselves physically in excessive ways. Some become too aggressive or reckless in how they play a sport, injuring themselves or others. And some actually harm themselves by developing eating disorders, such as bulimia and anorexia nervosa. Most often, there are always some boys who just seem to overdo it, pushing their bodies beyond their natural limits. While it’s wonderful to encourage boys to be devoted to themselves and their teams and to try to reach new levels of athletic performance, it’s quite another thing to allow boys to hurt themselves or others. So don’t stand on the sidelines. Get involved, encourage your boys in a healthy way, and intervene if things go too far. As one boy, age eleven, recently said following his recovery from a serious track injury: “I’ve really learned that all you can do is your very best. As our coach always tells us, ‘There is no finish line’ ”

  The Greeks, who gave us the legacy of the Olympics, believed that all life must be seen in balance, and that even heroes (including sports heroes), must face tragedy and loss, along with the glory of victory. Sports, when genuinely appreciated under the tutelage of a wise mentor coach, can both uplift and humble boys—at once at the top of their game and almost simultaneously confronted with injury, loss, and defeat, turning real boys into strong, healthy, confident men:

  And he, who in his youth secures a fine advantage, gathers hope and flies on wings of manly action, disdaining cost. Men’s happiness is early ripened fruit that falls to earth from shakings of adversity.

  Men are duty bound. What is a man? Man is a shadow’s dream. But when divine advantage comes men gain a radiance and a richer life. (Pindar, Odes)

  The radiance and the shadow’s dream—both are parts of boys that sports may help to reveal and draw out. In the hands of the proper coach, sports provide a place where the rougher edges of boys’ love may be softened and expressed freely. To keep sports in proper perspective and balance, boys need to cultivate the spirit of play, so easily lost to the cult of victory or competition. Then, and only then, will sports fulfill its true mission, releasing boys from the restrictions of the old Boy Code and offering them genuine opportunities for personal transformation.

  PART THREE

  WHEN THE BOUGH

  BREAKS

  The toil of growing up;

  The ignominy of boyhood; the distress

  Of boyhood changing into man;

  The unfinished man and his pain.

  — WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

  “The Dialogue of Self and Soul”

  — 12 —

  HAMLET’S CURSE: DEPRESSION

  AND SUICIDE IN BOYS

  “There’s a mold you should fit into if you’re a guy. You’re supposed

  to be on the strong aggressive side, have social strength, and

  strength of will, and strength of body. You can’t break like

  a twig in the wind.”—Mark, age fifteen

  THE HIDDEN EPIDEMIC OF BOYS’ DEPRESSION

  Duncan Casner and his mother both appeared surprised when I first said the word “depression.” Tall, lean, and athletic-looking, with large brown eyes and stylish-looking wire-rim glasses, Duncan, at age sixteen, probably would not have fit anyone’s stereotype of a depressed human being.

  “He’s getting into all sorts of trouble at school,” his mother, Jocelyn, explained before sending Duncan to see me. “He’s cutting classes and coming home early. And he tells my husband and me that he’s bee
n getting bad headaches. When the school called me to complain and I asked Duncan what was going on, he told me he thought he had a problem with migraines. But when I get home most days, he’s always in his room playing around with his computer. His grades are dropping, and I want to see him succeed like his older brother, Graham, who’s a freshman at Bates. Duncan’s always been such a good kid and we just really can’t figure out what’s gotten into him.”

  Duncan and I began to meet shortly after my phone call with his mother, after his family doctor had ruled out any physical basis for his headaches.

  “Maybe you could tell me a little bit about the headaches,” I asked Duncan during his third visit with me.

  “Lots of times at school, by the afternoon, my head hurts. It starts killing me. I can’t take it, so I go home, lie down, and just fall asleep. Then I usually surf the Net, or just watch TV.”

  “It sounds kind of lonely,” I suggested.

  “Nan—not really. I’m a loner anyway. I don’t really like many people. I’m just as happy doing my own thing. I’m sort of the independent type.”

  And then I seemed to say the magic words. “What was it like when your brother was still around? I understand he’s off at college now.”

  “Who, Graham? Well, Graham used to be, like, one of my best friends. But he’s older than me.”

  “Do you miss him?”

  “Not really. I mean, yeah sort of. Maybe at school.” Duncan seemed uncertain, deeply confused.

  “You mean school’s not quite the same without him?”

  Duncan began to cry; in fact he cried so heavily his words became almost incoherent. “He used to . . . he used to help me.”

  “Help you deal with the other kids?” I asked.

  “No. Not with the other kids. With the teachers.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, they always give way too much homework than you can get done. And then I start messing things up. I make mistakes in spelling. You see, I’m dyslexic and so I have some problems at school.”

  “Dyslexic?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So Graham helped you?”

  “Every afternoon he’d go over my homework with me and make sure I understood my mistakes. And then in the afternoons we’d hang out together.”

  “Do your parents know that you’re dyslexic?”

  “Yeah. But they don’t like to talk about it. And they never knew how much Graham helped me.”

  As our discussions continued, I learned that Duncan had been diagnosed with dyslexia just four years earlier. Since he came from a family with two incredibly driven, highly successful parents and a talented older brother, apparently his disability was discovered rather late and was still hardly discussed. Both of his parents had basically kept his dyslexia a secret from the outside world.

  It turned out that in addition to skipping classes and developing bad headaches, Duncan had developed serious problems with sleeping that were making it close to impossible for him to concentrate at school, his energy level had dropped enormously, and teachers reported that he often seemed irritable. Unbeknownst to either him or his parents, Duncan was significantly depressed. Yet because he hadn’t come home and opened up to his parents about his difficulties at school, because he had not really told them how much he missed his brother Graham, Duncan simply seemed to them to have developed “problems with his behavior.”

  “Duncan is just acting out, isn’t he?” asked Jocelyn.

  “Actually,” I answered, “I think he may be somewhat depressed. I’d recommend we continue talking and in addition that we seek consultation with a psychiatrist to see if he might also benefit from a short-term intervention with appropriate antidepressants.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” his mother replied incredulously, “You’re not telling me my Duncan is clinically depressed, are you?”

  “Well, yes, I think he may be.”

  “This isn’t a common problem with boys his age, is it?” she then asked.

  “It’s not as uncommon as you might think,” I explained. “In fact, recent research tells us there may be at least as many boys who are depressed as there are girls who are depressed. And that means there may actually be millions of depressed boys out there, many of whom may not look depressed on the outside.”

  “It sounds like a hidden epidemic,” offered Jocelyn.

  “I think you may be right,” I said.

  BIG BOYS DON’T CRY

  Of all the cultural prohibitions that limit our boys, I have found that one of the most unrelenting is the taboo against expressing sadness. It’s so common as to be a cliche: “Big boys don’t cry,” boys are told. “Get over it. Snap out of it!” Though every boy naturally feels sad from time to time, boys learn early on not to cry or talk about sadness, and not to turn to others for help. The Boy Code enforces these restrictions.

  Our male cultural icons reinforce them too. It’s hard to think of Michael Jordan, Muhammed Ali, Tom Cruise, Bruce Willis, Arnold Schwarzenegger, or John Wayne expressing feelings of personal sadness in public. The typical action hero underscores the idea that tough men don’t get sad—they just get even. The hero finds his enemies have burned down his home, his car’s tires are slashed, and his friend has been slaughtered—does he scream, weep, or collapse? No, he glares off into the distance, and the only sign of emotion is a tightening muscle in his cheek, the growing fury in his stony gaze. Then he bursts into action, leaping into a high-tech vehicle and roaring off to seek revenge.

  Because society trains boys to cover their sadness, it becomes very difficult for others to know when a boy is not doing well emotionally. Add to this the fact that we generally do not expect boys to be sad or depressed—and the fact that if we do suspect depression in boys, we often use inappropriate methods of diagnosis originally designed to ascertain depression in adult women—and it should not be surprising that we frequently have a hard time realizing when our sons are unhappy, and often fail to detect (or to accept) depression when it occurs in young and adolescent boys.

  By “depression” I mean the disorders that range from dysthymia (which is something like being in a very bad mood a lot of the time) up to and including what is generally referred to as a major depression or a clinical depression. Another form of depression is what psychologists call bipolar disorder, or manic-depressive illness. Since many of the symptoms in this disorder overlap with the symptoms we discuss in clinical depression, much of our discussion of how to detect and treat depression in boys will also be helpful to anyone trying to detect these and other forms of depression as well.

  As reflected in Duncan’s story, when parents first learn that their sons are unhappy or clinically depressed, they are often utterly surprised. “We had no idea he felt that way,” they say. “He seemed so with it and upbeat.” Or: “We knew he seemed grouchy and tired a lot, but we thought it was just a normal teenage thing.” A boy can be severely depressed, even suicidal, and his parents may not be able to tell the boy’s troubled state.

  Learning to uncover whether a boy, especially a young boy, is merely discontented or is actually depressed can be quite difficult. It’s hard to discern a boy’s feelings of sadness or vulnerability, and the line between short-lived unhappiness and clinical depression is sometimes hard to make out.

  Take, for instance, eight-year-old Devon Washington. Large for his age, Devon was sent to see one of my colleagues when one of his teachers discovered that he was hitting his playmates during recess each day. These weren’t everyday playful taps but truly forceful injurious punches. The teacher realized there was a problem when another boy came to her and revealed a large black-and-blue mark on his upper arm. The teacher told my colleague, “Devon is not doing well in our school. He doesn’t listen in class. He’s very aggressive, acts out a lot, and now is punching other kids. We think he may be hyperactive.”

  The teacher’s proposed diagnosis was plausible. Devon was inattentive in class, was not doing well in his schoolw
ork, and now had begun to direct aggression toward other students. But, it turned out, according to my colleague, that Devon was actually depressed. He did not exhibit any of the classic symptoms we generally associate with depression—for example, he wasn’t quiet, melancholic, or withdrawn. He wasn’t weepy. He wasn’t expressing despair or hopelessness. Instead, Devon was rebellious and full of rage—he resisted doing his schoolwork, acted defiant and distracted, and now was lashing out at others. It was only through the prescription of cognitive behavioral therapy and appropriate antidepressant medications that Devon was able to overcome his illness.

  THE MANY FACES OF DEPRESSION

  Depression affects boys in a variety of ways. It may make them feel sad, anxious, or numb. The depressed boy may act sullen and withdrawn or, like Devon, may become agitated, overly aggressive, and full of rage. He may misbehave in school or become dependent on drugs or alcohol. Or he may just seem glum.

  Depression in boys is a syndrome involving a whole range of behavioral difficulties and symptoms. While just about any adult who’s been diagnosed with clinical depression will tell you that the experience is quite different from a “bad mood,” it’s essential, especially in the case of boys, to see depression as this kind of wide-ranging syndrome with symptoms that fall along a continuum from mild to extreme. I believe that if we dwell merely on the most extreme—and obvious—instances of full-blown, or “clinical,” depression, we risk failing to help boys cope with emotional states that, though less intense on the surface, are actually very painful for them, emotional states that without appropriate intervention may very well evolve into a major depression or provoke suicidal feelings. There’s also a risk that by ignoring certain related behaviors, most notably irritable conduct and the abuse of substances, we may also fail to recognize the onset of a serious depression.