Real Boys

by William Pollack

TEACHERS AND BOYS OF DIVORCE

  School is often the arena where boys act out their emotions about divorce, and, often, teachers are the ones who take the brunt of it. I believe that teachers can do a great deal to help a boy through these difficult times. Some thoughts:

  • Teachers should be aware of changes in children of divorce, in behavior, attitude, and performance, but not expect that a child will exhibit certain problems.

  • Teachers should be sensitive to school situations that may affect the child (such as Mother’s Day art projects, or family discussions) and avoid comments that will make the child feel stigmatized or ashamed.

  • Outbursts shouldn’t be taken personally by teachers, as boys often react at school outside the real problem at hand.

  • Teachers and parents should work together to understand how the divorce may be affecting the boy’s academic behavior and social situations.

  • Teachers may need to support the child more than usual, and should express a sincere interest in his well-being, whenever possible and appropriate.

  • Teachers should be aware of custodial arrangements and the role of the noncustodial parent.

  • Teachers should understand that there may be a lowering in the standard of living for homes without a father, which may affect a child’s ability to participate in class activities such as special field trips or to get private tutoring if necessary.

  AN EXTRA NOTE FOR TEACHERS: THE BOY’S BEHAVIOR AS BELLWETHER

  Teachers should be especially alert to changes in a boy’s social behavior or academic performance even when the family is intact and no divorce is contemplated. If a boy misbehaves, fails, or rebels in some uncharacteristic way, the cause could possibly be a problem at home. The boy’s difficulty at school may, in fact, be a precursor to more serious troubles at home, such as divorce. In this way, a boy’s behavior may serve as a kind of bellwether for the behavior of the family as a whole.

  SURVIVING DIVORCE: A PRIMER FOR BOYS

  There is a beautiful Jewish folktale which suggests that all human beings are originally conceived with both a male and a female side that are split apart at birth as we are sent down from heaven to earth. During our youth we search for our soul mate. Then, at the time we are ready to be married, God gathers together the original kindred souls, helps them to fall in love, and rejoins them in marriage for life. It is a beautiful story, but so painfully different from the marital realities—and casualties—of today’s complex world.

  For us and our children, divorce is an everyday fact of life. Living with divorce, as I have shown, poses a unique set of painful problems, often forcing boys into yet another premature and painful separation—a third trauma. Already forced to leave the holding nest of maternal love at a very young age, and pushed over time to hide his continuing need for succor behind apathy and stoicism, a boy finds himself in a particularly fragile state if his family—his one remaining emotional anchor—is then torn asunder by parental separation. And if at that moment he is an adolescent also dealing with the second pull to be separate—a time when he probably needs adult supervision and guidance the most—his parents’ divorce can cause lasting confusion about who he is, who he can trust, and who will provide him with a relationship, and a love, that will last.

  The voices we have heard of boys and teens caught in the web of divorce—and the staggering statistics reported on the dramatic impact a divorce can have on a boy’s self-esteem, temperament, and academic performance—testify to the potential of trauma in this all too common occurrence. And yet we must be careful not to fall prey either to moralistic blame or to callous shaming. Although some couples may enter into both marriage and divorce too lightly, many have tried their best to make a go of the marriage. Many discover, despite the most intense and genuine efforts to keep the marriage going, that they’ll truly thrive best on their own.

  And while the trauma of divorce is especially bound to hit a boy hard—because it’s unexpected, because it’s painful, and because the old Boy Code continues to deprive him of the emotional support he needs to deal with it—I believe that all need not be seen from the vantage point of total pessimism. Boys can and do survive divorce. Indeed, to the astonishment of psychologists, some boys eventually end up doing quite well—much better than we would ever have imagined. It is of vital importance to know what makes for these differences.

  First, as we have seen, parents must be on the lookout for boys’ sadness and distress, which often lies hidden behind the mask, constricted by the gender straitjacket. We must all be wary of the boy who tells his struggling mom and tearful dad, “Don’t worry, I’m fine.” Recognize that nothing is more likely to be further from the truth.

  Try, within bounds, to tolerate and harness his rage, remembering that anger is often a boy’s first and most familiar way to express feeling. Show that you accept his need to withdraw and be silent by neither withdrawing in return nor pushing the process too quickly, but by “hanging in there” with patience and love.

  Second, assure your son, that although things cannot remain the same, the divorce is between (and for) the parents—it is not meant to be another separation where he is concerned. Except under the most extreme circumstances (such as where one parent is abusive or mentally ill), strive to keep the parental turmoil away from the boy and out of the ongoing co-parenting arrangement.

  Third, don’t be afraid to lean on other adult loved ones for help. Interdependence is a normal part of our human condition. When you form new friendships and relationships with other adults, you’re giving your boy this essential message. In other words, not only are you giving yourself new companionship and support, but you’re opening your boy to the reality that the same is possible for him.

  Fourth, stress to your son that it’s OK to be afraid—that mom may worry about bringing up a son without a dad, and that dad too may worry about how sad and lonely he may become if the ties to his son are weakened or cut off. Be honest and keep these discussions out in the open—within reasonable limits and in a way that is appropriate to your son’s age—so that your son gets the message that his pain is normal, that you don’t expect or want him to bury his emotions or become disconnected from you, that he, after all, is not alone.

  As counterintuitive—or overly optimistic—as this may seem, it’s important to attempt to teach connection throughout the divorce process, an enduring connection between a boy and his parents that no legal marital realignment will ever destroy. In your own darkest moments of confusion and despair, do your best not to fall prey to guilt and shame. Your boy is yearning for your love and affirmation. And seeing him through this complex life change with a minimum of pain is also an antidote to the feelings of loss and helplessness that you may feel.

  Focus on a future in which you can create a safe space for your boy to express all his pent-up emotions—positive and negative—and follow your heart’s desires to remain connected to him throughout this process. In the end, no matter what the outcome of the divorce, through the power of ongoing emotional parental commitment, you and your son can share a lifetime of healthy connection and the possibility for individual and mutual renewal.

  PART FOUR

  STAYING

  CONNECTED:

  REAL BOYS/

  REAL MEN

  My boy, as gently on my breast,

  From infant sport, thou sink’st to rest;

  And on my hand I feel thee put,

  In playful dreams, thy little foot,

  The thrilling touch sets every string

  Of my full heart to quivering;

  For, ah! I think, what chart can show

  The ways through which this foot

  may go?

  Its print will be, in childhood’s hours,

  Traced in the garden, round the

  flowers;

  But youth will bid it leap the rills,

  Bathe in the dew on distant hills,

  Roam o’er the vales, and venture out

  When riper yea
rs would pause and

  doubt,

  Nor brave the pass, nor try the brink

  Where youth’s unguarded foot may

  sink.

  But what, when manhood tints thy

  cheek,

  Will be the ways this foot will seek?

  Is it to lightly pace the deck,

  Helpless, to slip from off the wreck?

  Or wander o’er a foreign shore,

  Returning to thy home no more,

  Until the bosom now thy pillow,

  Is low and cold beneath the willow?

  Or, is it for the battle-plain,

  Beside the slayer and the slain?

  Will there its final step be taken?

  There, sleep thine eye no more to

  waken?

  Is it to glory or to shame—

  To sully, or to gild thy name?

  Is it to happiness or wo

  This little foot is made to go?

  But wheresoe’er its lines may fall,

  Whether in cottage or in hall;

  O, may it ever shun the ground

  Where’er his foot was never found,

  Who, on his path of life, hath shed

  A living light, that all may tread

  Upon his earthly steps; and none

  E’er dash the foot against a stone!

  Yet, if thy way is marked by fate,

  As, guilty, dark and desolate;

  If thou must float, by vice and crime,

  A wreck, upon the stream of time!

  Oh! rather than behold that day,

  I’d know this foot, in lightsome play,

  Would bound, with guiltless, infant

  glee,

  Upon the sod that sheltered me!

  — H. F. GOULD

  “The Little Foot”

  EPILOGUE:

  THE “REAL BOY” CODE—REVISING

  THE BOY CODE AND

  STAYING

  CONNECTED

  For me, one of the most heartwarming experiences in listening closely to boys is hearing one of them share a thought or tell a story that reflects his resistance to the Boy Code—an unconscious and almost imperceptible rebellion against the gender straitjacketing that most of our sons experience every day. Often arising from what seems to be his gut sense that “I’ve just got to do what’s right” or “I’m just going to have to be myself,” these touching moments seem to surface when the boy—despite society’s rigid gender-based expectations and his own years of stoic suppression of real emotion—finally connects with a new voice within.

  When a boy utters these words to assert himself, when he takes on the old Boy Code, he is engaging in an act of heroism, a first attempt to dismantle our society’s double standards and toxic views about the male gender. He may be blazing the path for a far more expansive, far less oppressive set of guidelines and expectations—a New Boy Code that respects what today’s boys and men are really about—one that will be based upon honesty rather than fear, communication rather than repression, connection rather than disconnection.

  My recent conversation with Chris revealed one such boy, one such hero.

  Towering over me at nearly six feet, Chris Jackson, with his shock of red hair and intense greenish-brown eyes, seemed unusually self-confident for his seventeen years. Though at first he seemed somewhat shy and reserved, as he began speaking to me I was impressed by his candor and guileless manner. Chris, I had been told, was a top athlete at his school, an able pupil, and one of his school’s most respected student leaders. Our conversation covered a range of issues, but Chris seemed most interested in talking about his friends and about the ups and downs of his relationships with them.

  “I’ve got a good group of friends,” he boasted with a proud smile. “I’ve never had any major problems with them.”

  “No conflicts whatsoever?” I asked.

  “Well,” he confessed, “now that you mention it, there was that whole scene with Dan that started out as just a hassle but really upset me.”

  Chris explained to me that Dan Norton had been his friend since kindergarten, that they had lived in the same working-class suburb of Chicago for as long as he could remember. The two had been T-ball team-mates and soccer team cocaptains, and now they were varsity co-captains of the high school football team. “We were pretty close for a long time,” Chris volunteered, “We went through a lot together. Dan’s parents got divorced, and my mother had breast cancer recently, although she’s doing fine now.”

  “It sounds like a pretty important friendship,” I offered.

  “Well, we used to spend a lot of our free time together,” Chris continued, “and, yes, we were good friends, actually very close friends,”

  Chris seemed relaxed when talking about his feelings and comfortable about sharing with me how much he had cared for Dan. But apparently things had recently changed between the two childhood buddies.

  “I guess I should say that we were good friends. I used to really like the guy until he started to have this one big problem that just completely annoyed me.”

  “And what was that?” I asked Chris.

  “Well,” he answered, “Dan would always be late and keep me waiting, like when we were supposed to meet up in the morning to take the bus to school. It took me a while to say anything to him—you know, I sort of needed time to sort things out in my own mind.”

  “So, did you confront him?” I asked.

  “Yep. And when I did, he was really mean, really negative in response. He said some awful things like ‘Who do you think you are?’ and that kind of thing. I didn’t want to react right then, so I walked away and tried to think about it—to let it blow over.”

  But Chris found that the more he puzzled about this incident the more upset he became. “Somehow I couldn’t let go of it in my head, and then it dawned on me why. It wasn’t just the stuff he was doing to me. You see, he was also starting to pull pranks and hassle the younger kids at our school. Like, ever since he made varsity, he’d rank on the freshmen, hide stuff from their lockers—and sometimes he’d just rough them up. He didn’t do anything real bad, but I could see he was, like, terrorizing these younger kids.”

  “So what did you do about it?”

  “That’s when I told him he was becoming a jerk, that he was going too far. These kids didn’t deserve to be ranked on or beat up. You know, I asked how he would feel if one of the seniors started giving him a hard time.”

  “And how did Dan respond to that?”

  “Well, he was like: ‘C’mon, Chris. What’s gotten into you? Have you become a little wimp or something? Don’t you remember what those seniors used to do to us when we came up from junior high? It’s just part of being a guy.’ ” Chris, in fact, did remember all the hazing, even some of the roughhousing that—though never physically harmful—always left him with a deep sense of shame. He even remembered one kid who teased him when his mother had to go through a mastectomy.

  “It sounds like going to your high school can be pretty rough,” I suggested.

  “Yeah. Back then, my older brother, who was a junior at the time, was like, ‘Chris, just act tough and ignore them, and they’ll lay off you.’ ”

  “Did his advice work well for you?”

  “Well, yes and no. I mean, yes, it kept the other guys from hassling me. But, you know, it’s stupid to have to act tough all the time. You get all wound up inside, like maybe you’re going to have a heart attack or something. You feel awful about yourself, like you’re just a big dopey loser. And now that I’m on the other side and I see what these little kids have to go through, I don’t really think it’s worth it. So, when I see Dan roughing up the little guys, I’m like, ‘No way.’ I told Dan, ‘Why don’t you just cut the shit—all it does is screw kids up, like it did us. It’s just not right.’ ”

  “So what did Dan say to that?” I asked.

  “Well, Dan and I were still friendly for a while, even though the way he treated the other kids—almost like a bu
lly—bothered me a lot. But then Allison moved to town.”

  “Allison?”

  “Yeah. She was this really neat girl, kind of funky, artistic, and real smart. You know in English class, when the teacher would ask all those tough questions, she always had the right answer. I liked her right away.”

  “She was a friend of yours?”

  “Well, she wasn’t like a girlfriend or anything. I mean she was just a friend, more like a sister. We started to spend some time together. Unfortunately this wasn’t the cool thing to do.”

  “Why not?”

  “First of all, she was new, and kids weren’t sure they liked her. But she was ‘different’—her clothes, the music she listened to, and that stutter she had. You see, when Allie was a little girl, she was real shy and would stutter when she talked in front of the class. She told me that she used to be like, ‘That, that, that’s right.’ Her parents got her help for this, speech therapy I think it was, and it mostly went away. But even these days, if she gets real nervous, sometimes it comes back. And when we started at high school with the older kids and everything—she had some bad days, with a lot of stuttering.”