Anyone claiming that our educational system has become biased against boys in recent years must read Michael Kimmel's "War Against Boys?" in the latest issue of Dissent magazine.
Kimmel recognizes that boys, on many levels, are not doing as well as girls in school -- but broader factors, involving race, class and, most significantly, hypocritical cultural expectations, are to blame, not the feminist movement or a softening or "feminization" of our culture at large:
Countless surveys suggest that young boys today subscribe to a traditional definition of masculinity, stressing the suppression of emotion, stoic resolve, aggression, power, success, and other stereotypic features. Indeed, the point of such successful books as William Pollack's Real Boys and Thompson and Kindlon's Raising Cain is to expand the emotional and psychological repertoire of boys, enabling them to express a wider emotional and creative range.
How does a focus on the ideology of masculinity explain what is happening to boys in school? Consider the parallel for girls. Carol Gilligan's work on adolescent girls describes how these assertive, confident, and proud young girls 'lose their voices' when they hit adolescence. At that same moment, Pollack notes, boys become more confident, even beyond their abilities. You might even say that boys find their voices, but it is the inauthentic voice of bravado, posturing, foolish risk-taking, and gratuitous violence. He calls it 'the boy code.' The boy code teaches them that they are supposed to be in power, and so they begin to act as if they are. They 'ruffle in a manly pose,' as William Butler Yeats once put it, 'for all their timid heart.'
Kimmel, a professor of sociology at SUNY Stonybrook, has always been one of my favorite popular academics, able to speak eloquently to a wide audience while maintaining an academic rigor. His book-length study, Manhood in America, can at times simplify complicated historical issues but it is always at the service of making his research useful in the here and now. The implication of all his work -- inspired heavily by Pollack, Thompson and Kindlon in recent years -- is that we need to stop being so reactionary in our advocacy for boys and starting seeing them as real people -- with complex desires that are buffeted between strong social and historical forces:
To many who now propose to 'rescue' boys ... all boys are the same aggressive, competitive, rambunctious little devils. They operate from a facile, and inaccurate, essentialist dichotomy between males and females. Boys must be allowed to be boys -- so that they grow up to be men.
But what boys need turns out to be pretty much what girls need. In their best-selling Raising Cain, Michael Thompson and Dan Kindlon describe boys' needs: to be loved, get sex, and not be hurt. Parents are counseled to allow boys their emotions; accept a high level of activity; speak their language; and treat them with respect. They are to teach the many ways a boy can be a man, use discipline to guide and build, and model manhood as emotionally attached ... [W]hat they advocate is exactly what feminists have been advocating for girls for some time.
With this perspective in mind, no place -- in our popular culture, at least -- is giving boys more respect than two television series -- The Wire and Friday Night Lights.
The Wire, in its fourth season, continues to go where no show has gone before. This season's focus on public education reveals the humanity of the boys most in need of "rescuing" -- those disregarded and dismissed in America's inner cities. Traditional models of manhood are failing them, but finding a safe alternative space to express themselves always seems out of their reach.
From the opposite end of America, Friday Night Lights also explores the limitations of those traditional models of manhood (for a critical overview see Mimi's Avins' recent homage in the Los Angeles Times). The violence of the drug war on the streets of Baltimore has more in common with the violence on a high-school football field in rural Texas than you might imagine.
The four football players we closely follow -- Matt Saracen, Jason Street, "Smash" Williams, and Tim Riggins -- are all beneficiaries and victims of a culture that defines them in the narrowest of terms. All of them have desires that transcend football -- even though not all of them know what to do with those desires -- but no one seems to want to listen.
The most moving parts of the shows are when someone does hear them, whether it be a girlfriend or a coach. The entire tension of the show, in fact, is based on whether or not the boys will recognize, express, or receive an understanding ear toward their deeper, sensitive identities.
And that is the true "crisis" boys face. While it might be safe for some viewers to see the cultures represented in The Wire and Friday Night Lights as very particular to drug-infested inner cities or isolated, football-obsessed rural towns, they are only intensified microcosms of American culture at large.
This entry is cross-posted at PopPolitics.com