By Denise M. Krenski
Years ago, when I found out my mom’s cancer had metastasized and she was going to die, naturally, I cried. But, I did this in front of my Irish grandmom who said to me: “Crying is for when you are angry.” What my grandmom didn’t know when she told me not to cry was that I had been working for decades to permit myself to emote, with tears, rather than bottle it up and do something destructive as an alternative. That behavior – over-indulging, self-neglect, sweeping pain under the rug – was killing me. I learned to do all of that because of who raised me and how I was raised. My parents had those survival techniques and for their generation, it was effective. They learned it from their parents. Behavior doesn’t just show up one day; rather it’s ingrained in our DNA after so many generations have repeated it.
I believe I got lucky, however. Therapy was readily available to me and encouraged. It was there that I learned to channel my sadness and fears into healthier outlets, like writing and focusing on my breathing. I could make the changes I needed because our society embraces women in a way where we are allowed to be vulnerable and seek help.
As a late-in-life mother to two sons and a stepson, I worry for them. When I watched the presidential debate the other night, former president Donald Trump repeatedly referred to his strength in ways that were mostly connected to negative but readily accepted male identities: tough, fearsome, threatening, omnipotent. Essentially, if an international dictator wanted to mess with the United States, Trump’s anger and ability to easily puff up his chest bully-style will be the reason our country would stay safe. The message being sent to men and boys is that if you act tough, you can save everyone from death and despair. That’s a pretty tough load to bear.
As I watch my sons experience life, I grapple with how to nurture their emotional development so that they have healthy outlets for those big emotions. Do I listen to those who support Trump and get my boys ready for battle so that they can protect everyone from the world, which is The Man’s Job? I don’t think that is the answer.
The world is a dangerous place and I think women have had to relearn how to survive in it. For the most part, I think we are succeeding. We still have a ways to go, but we will never stop fighting for equality. But with that has come an impact on men and boys that is hurting them. It’s easy to throw at men that they have “privilege.” On many levels, I’d argue they do have it easier. They are given passes, they get power more easily and they don’t have to prove themselves the same way that women have to. But, this privilege comes at a cost.
The paradigms for maleness don’t always allow them to be soft without being gay, kind without being a pushover, introspective and still capable. If you’re from a blue-collar background and of a certain ethnic group, males aren’t allowed to have just one identity. Rather, they have to live the duality of maleness: an outward-facing persona — tough and unbreakable, can handle it all; and, the inner one — struggling to live each day with purpose.
My father is a stoic Irishman. Though he smiles, laughs and is really funny, he only cries in front of us when he’s been given permission: my mom’s death, when his firehouse blew up, when we moved out of the first home he bought for our family. Those situations warranted tears because they are relatable scenarios to others in his position. He doesn’t publicly allow himself to emote about real pain: hurt, sadness, despair, feeling left out and behind. Those are emotions that have to exist in a small space in a man’s head that has a door with a double lock on it. But, why and who’s fault is that?
As I raise my boys to survive in this world, what are the tools I need to give them that will make them most successful as men in our culture? I’m hoping that they can embrace strong women without it taking away from their strength. I try to model curiosity and the joy that not knowing something and seeking answers can bring. I also try to show them that it’s OK to not always have the answers because sometimes answers are not needed. But, I can’t protect them from the male toxicity that they will see everywhere they go and that is concerning to me.
I’m just one woman asking how to help my boys be healthier than generations that preceded them. I don’t want to lose my boys to suicide because I didn’t take huge risks in their upbringing. I want them not to fear other men and how they are seen by those other men. I want them to respect women AND I want them to respect themselves.
But, how do I do that? I can’t do it alone and I know I am not alone. We need to work together to ensure that the message being sent to our boys and men is: It’s OK to feel. It’s OK to be OK. You don’t need to be a bully or support a bully to feel whole. You don’t need to protect everyone from everything. You can deal with little pieces of life, at your own pace, and live with joy, whatever that joy is for you. You can break from male-driven stereotypes and that will not make you small.
My thought process is not to belittle Donald Trump. Rather, it is to reimagine what a strong man can look like that will allow a man to breathe and be. That is my hope. ••
Denise M. Krenski is a native Philadelphian who resides in the Lehigh Valley with her wife and five children. She’s an alumna of St. Hubert, ’91, with a BA from Temple, ’95 and an MA in Educational Leadership from NYU, ’07. Prior to being home with her children, Krenski spent her career as an educator and administrator in NYC and a fundraiser in higher education.
