Guest Blog by Roger L. Durham
So men have stories to tell. And Tom Matlack and his team at the Good Men Project are leading a chorus of voices inviting men to tell their stories as they look for what it means to be good men. And a resounding number of men are responding to the invitation. In one sense, it’s really nothing new, and yet, it is totally revolutionary.
Men have told stories since language evolved. Communities have been formed, throughout history, by the sharing of a common story. Allegiances have been built and sustained through the repetition of that common story. Countries, companies, communities, clubs–they all have stories that shape them. What is different about The Good Men Project is that the invitation is to personal narrative, and that has traditionally been a less comfortable fit for men.
Men don’t typically choose to be that self-revealing. The workplace has not, as a practice, encouraged that kind of personal honesty from men. Generations of men have been rewarded for guarding against the vulnerability that comes with disclosing too much of themselves. But that seems to be changing. And I am convinced that the change is, at least in part, precipitated by the growing feminization of the work place. Over the past several decades, as women have found their way into the mainstream of corporate America, and as a growing number of women are finding ways to shatter that glass ceiling that had kept them out of the board room or the corner office, they are bringing with them those qualities of “woman” that had been mostly silent in the work place. And one of those qualities is comfort with personal narrative and the willingness to share it.
Since discovering the Good Men Project I have found myself logging onto the website every day, wondering whose story I will discover next. What will I learn about men, and myself, through those stories? It is becoming part of the ritual of my day, which, of course, is the whole point, right? Part of the genius of the Good Men Project is that it provides a venue for men to find common ground on the search for meaning. It provides a safe and provocative and inspiring forum for the kinds of questions that men wrestle with, but often in isolation.
I know myself well enough, though, to realize that at some point the question will present itself. I will read these stories and be inspired and be encouraged to know that others wrestle with some of the things I wrestle with. And then, suddenly, without warning, the question will be there: So what? What does all of this have to do with getting up in the morning and going to work? Assuming I make the connection between others’ stories and my own, what difference does it make that I have a sense of personal narrative? Actually, I guess the question has already occurred to me, hasn’t it?
My years as a minister and as a student of life have given me a framework for answering that question. The men I have known who have impressed me as good men have one thing in common. They live congruent lives. Some have been successful by cultural or social standards. Some have lived modest lives. Some have been well-known in their respective endeavors. Some have been relatively obscure. But all of them have lived their lives in such a way that the person they are at work is the same as the person they are at home, and the same as the person they are on the golf course, and the same as the person they are with neighbors. Whether they are Dad, boss, employee, son, husband, friend, competitor, or teammate they live with a consistency that makes them believable, trustworthy, and, in my view, good. Of course, there are some consistently bad guys out there, but you know what I mean. You have met the kinds of guys I am talking about. They are good men.
The point is this: You can’t live a congruent life if you don’t know who you are. And it is difficult to know who you are without knowing your story–your narrative. And you can’t really know your narrative without owning it and telling it and living it in every dimension of your life. That, to me, is what is revolutionary about the Good Men Project. It invites men into an engagement with their own narrative, and the narrative of others, and that engagement, if joined, can truly change lives.
The other thing that personal narrative offers is a point of reference when things get out of balance. Here’s how it happens for me: When I step away from my own story, when I try to be something more than I am, or let myself be something less than I can be, my life is out of balance. And everyone around me knows it–usually before I do. And when my life is out of balance, I tend to do things that make matters only worse. I eat more than I should. I drink more than I mean to. I exercise less regularly. I reach for things that offer relief but no real solution.
Then I remember my story. Sometimes it has to hit me over the head, but eventually I am brought back to my personal narrative, and I remember who I am, or who I mean to be, and I find my way back to a sense of balance. And I step back onto the path to being that good man I intend to be. That personal narrative is like a lighthouse, or the North Star, that gives me a point of reference to bring me back on course–when I remember to look at it.
So there it is–the “so what” of personal narrative–at least for me. If you don’t know your story, and you don’t find ways to share your story, then it is hard to live a congruent life, one that others can trust. And it is hard to recover your balance and direction when life pushes you off course.
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Roger L. Durham is an ordained Presbyterian minister currently working as a client development manager for Summit Energy Services in Louisville, Kentucky. As a student of culture, faith, and men’s issues, Durham works with men’s groups in Louisville. He has a BA in psychology from Wake Forest University and a doctor of ministry degree from Union Seminary in Virginia.
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November 30, 2009
November 29, 2009
November 28, 2009
Guest Blog by Haji Shearer
Like many men, I grew up with porn. I remember seeing my first sex magazine in fourth or fifth grade. Another boy brought it to school and was passing it around. My desire to get more time with those images was so strong I manipulated my classmate by telling him if he didn’t give me the magazine I would tell his mother he had it. He surrendered it, and I happily sneaked it into my home. Later, I realized this was my first example of porn making you stupid. Even as a kid I wondered why my classmate didn’t counter by threatening to tell my mother I had the magazine.
Because of advances in cable TV and internet technology, porn is more widely available and accepted than when that exchange occurred, in the early 1970s. Porn has become standard in a lot of homes with disposable income and a source of debt in some that can’t afford it.
When I met the woman who became my wife, my porn collection consisted of a milk crate full of magazines. It was mostly over-the-counter stuff: some Playboys, Players, Hustlers, and other magazines that had articles to read when you got tired of pursuing their primary purpose. The crate also contained an assortment of hardcore magazines showing couples exploring fantasies the art directors thought would keep men like me buying their product. I didn’t try to keep the stash secret from my future wife. The porn was part of my sexual software and sharing it with my real-life partner was, I thought, helpful in keeping us on the same page. After all, the magazines I kept were the ones that turned me on, so they were a good way for her to get to know what I liked.
Shortly after we hooked up, Jasmin perused my collection seemingly unimpressed. She had been raised in a family far more libertine than mine, and she was no stranger to photos of people having sex. Her disinterest in the magazines didn’t bother me. I could enjoy them without her. I had also shown the magazines to previous girlfriends and, in my experience, women didn’t get excited about porn. I never shared my collection with male friends (I didn’t want to masturbate with a magazine another man had used), but it was clear from conversations that I wasn’t the only brother with a stash.
Jasmin and I made a commitment to one another and started down Intimacy Road, removing one mask after another as we went. Soon, she disclosed she had been sexually molested as a child. Not long after that, she indicted my porn collection as a contributor to the sexual exploitation of women and girls that resulted in her being molested. Because she had been photographed as part of her abuse, her sensitivity to porn was especially high.
I was blindsided by the idea that these legally purchased photos could be a factor in the criminal cruelty endured by her and other abuse victims. I wasn’t, however, in a good position to argue with her feelings about being molested.
So for the first time, I chose to address the ethical issues of porn. I imagined the models’ life stories beyond the art directors’ fantasies. I wondered how many of them had been sexually victimized as children, and I questioned what the real-life women thought about the scenes they acted. I came to the conclusion that most women who had options would choose another profession, and that by using porn I was contributing to the subjugation of an oppressed class. This assessment led me to toss my collection with little remorse. Jasmin was pleased by my decision. The photos would no longer trigger memories of her abuse, and I’m sure she intuitively felt that my porn use was a barrier to our closeness.
Discarding the magazines was, no doubt, one small piece of the long, intense, and largely successful healing of her sexual abuse trauma.
Since making that decision, I have dabbled with porn from time to time. When Jasmin and I met, I was in a luddite phase: I didn’t own a TV, much less a VCR, and so my porn was limited to magazines. After each upgrade to our media repertoire—TV/VCR, cable, and internet—I experimented with the new delivery system.
The big difference with cable TV and internet was, of course, no embarrassing trips to the magazine or video store. This was no small consideration. Having a dealer anonymously deliver legal samples to your door tends to increase your usage. I’ve abstained from porn for over a year, but I still find it compelling that a nearly infinite variety of sexual titillation is just a mouse click away, twenty-four hours a day.
My feeling that porn is oppressive to women never abated, but I felt conflicted when I was horny. Despite my understanding that porn hurts women, a part of me wanted to believe what I had been raised on—that it was just benign, male fun.
When I lapsed into occasional porn viewing, my wife was patient with me. Because we are fond of sex and because the porn industry has staked a claim, erroneously as it turns out, as a purveyor of liberated sexuality; Jasmin may have subconsciously thought she should enjoy the images more than she did. But try as we might, the back stories of the performers bothered us. It became increasingly difficult for me to justify porn’s use in our happy marriage. Although I initially renounced porn because of how it affects women, as I pursued my spiritual evolution, viewing pornography became a practice that was increasingly at odds with my own sense of integrity.
Then I read an article called “Pimps and Johns” in Voice Male magazine. It was written by Robert Jensen, a journalism professor and anti-porn activist. He argued that viewers of pornography as well as performers are degraded by their involvement. Personally, I know using porn never left me feeling especially proud. Just the opposite; it often brought up feelings of shame—seldom a good sign. My reflections sparked by the article inspired a revelation: Using porn hinders the intimacy that Jasmin and I strive for in our relationship. Whether alone or with my wife, viewing porn takes time and energy away from our union and squanders it on a pseudo-relationship. Even using porn as a stimulus for marital sex is problematic because porn doesn’t model healthy avenues of connection. Porn is at best “wham, bam, thank you, ma’am”—and not reflective of the deeply physically, emotionally and spiritually satisfying sex I want in my own life.
And not surprisingly, I find it easier to achieve sexual pleasure and intimacy with my beloved when images of models paid to perform male fantasies aren’t playing in my head.
There have been many critiques of porn from a feminist point of view. Though valid, I am not playing that drum. Those of us engaged in the struggle to redefine manhood for the new millennium must address the ubiquity of porn and decide whether using it for sexual stimulation is leading us toward enlightened masculinity or is contributing to our being used as pawns for a corporate culture devoid of integrity. I’ve talked to many women besides my wife who are quietly disgusted by their male partner’s use of porn but just accept it as a fact of life. That’s unfortunate. Porn is like sexual crack—a quick high that feels good as long as you don’t think about it too much. But ultimately, the emptiness we try to fill in this manner is only aggravated.
I honor freedom of speech and freedom of the press. I’m not suggesting porn be outlawed. I am advocating that men examine our relationship with porn more seriously. How does using it affect our self-worth? How does viewing porn affect the way we treat real women in our lives? How does using porn contribute to sexual oppression and violence in our communities? I’m convinced that, with a little introspection, more men will acknowledge porn’s harmful effects and subsequently adjust their behavior.
I stopped using porn because I’m committed to being the most empathetic human being and the best sexual partner I can be. Using porn doesn’t support that. I discovered more satisfying software using my own creativity, listening to my partner, and exploring books that deal with true sexual intimacy. Both Jasmin and I won when I let my heart, and not that other organ, be my guide. This path has given me more pleasure than following the jaundiced script of a pornographer exploiting my imagination for a buck.
It’s ironic: Throwing away that milk crate full of magazines ended up being a giant step toward my true sexual liberation.
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Haji Shearer is speaker, writer, and trainer. He is the director of the Fatherhood Initiative for the Massachusetts Children’s Trust Fund. Shearer has a BA in management of human services and has been working in the field of family support since 1993.
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Editor’s Note: Guest blog posts in response to this or any other topic that appears on The Good Men Project blog are welcome. Please contact Tom at info@goodmenbook.org
On 12/1 we’re spreading the word about The Good Men Project throughout the online universe.
As always, all proceeds from book and dvd sales go to The Good Men Foundation, a registered 501(c)(3) charity that supports men and boys at risk. Charitable organizations such as The Boys & Girls Clubs of Boston, Big Brothers, Big Sisters, Trinity Street Potential, Dorchester Youth Alternative Academy, and Exodus Transitional Community are direct beneficiaries.
And so, on Dec. 1, we’re asking people to help in the following ways:
1. Forward a friendly note about the project to your friends.
2. Post one of our photos on your Facebook Wall. Grab one from Flickr, here.
3. Post a book purchasing link to your Facebook status, your Twitterstream and your web site.
4. Invite your friends to become a fan of The Good Men Project on Facebook
5. Buy the book/DVD combination for yourself or as a gift for others this holiday season. All proceeds go to the nonprofit Good Men Foundation supporting men and boys at risk.
6. If you have a community, religious group, or other non-profit that would be interested in promoting the book or holding a book signing, please contact info@goodmenproject.org
Here is some information about the Book and DVD that you can forward to your friends:
The Good Men Project: Real Stories from the Front Lines of Modern Manhood, is a collection of first-person stories that comprise a book and documentary about what it means to be a man in America today. From Pulitzer winners to ex-cons, and pro Football Hall of Famers to just regular Joes, men share their defining challenges, losses and triumphs through honest and simple truths.
“The hope is that these stories will help men come to their own definition on what it means to be a good man,” says Tom Matlack, Good Men Project cofounder. “It’s about the deeper truth of how men think.”
The book and DVD of the film are available as a companion set, and all proceeds go to the Good Men Foundation, which supports organizations that help at-risk boys. It’s a perfect gift for the men in your life or the women who love them. Be a part of something – join what is fast becoming the centerpiece of a national discussion about what manhood means today.
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Finally, on 12/1 but also throughout the rest of the holiday season, we’re inviting ANY like-minded charity organization to use our book/dvd as a fundraiser. This is how it works: We have a standard email blast asking people to buy our book/dvd bundle for the holidays. We can track sales by email blast using a promotional code. So we would split the profit on any bundles sold with your unique tracking code. Please contact Tom or Lisa at info@goodmenproject.org if you are interested in learning more about how this effort can help raise money your worthy enterprise or charities, and get the word out about good men
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Thank you all, for your wonderful support of The Good Men Project.
November 27, 2009
I spent my Black Friday surrounded by women of all ages, 16 to 60, watching Kristen Stewart play Bella Swan as she panted her way through a love triangle including an amazingly buff and bare-chested wolf-boy Jacob Black (Taylor Lautner) the amazingly pale and pouty vampire Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson). I wasn’t there for the story but more as a kind of sociological learning experience. What would cause grown women to throw their panties at 18-year-old boys (as Launer recently reported on Letterman)? Is this some kind of revenge for years of Sport Illustrated swimsuit editions? More important, what does the huge response of New Moon say about what women want, and apparently aren’t getting, from their merely mortal boyfriends and husbands?
Sexual longing rather than satisfaction seems a key part of what the movie has tapped into. It’s an old fashioned concept but apparently the fact that the Twilight series was written by a Mormon (Stephenie Meyer) who believes in chastity before marriage is one of the books, and New Moon’s, greatest strength. All you get is an occasional kiss between Edward and Bella. The rest is a vast emotional maze filled with missed chances and the romance of wanting exactly what you can’t have. Apparently as men we are missing the boat on the longing part of sex. Not quite a news flash but worth remembering.
Men, even vampires and werewolf varieties, should protect their women. Violence it seems is quite acceptable, in fact a turn on, if it is done in the name of chivalry. This reminds me of a conversation I had recently while on our book tour. A guy in a ponytail stood up and said that he liked our book because it “allowed men to embrace their female side.” I side-stepped the question but one of my partners on the book was much more direct in making the same point New Moon does on this score: women are not looking for their men to find their vulnerable and emotional side. The women of America are looking for their men to allow them to have their emotions and for us as guys to be strong enough to protect those emotions, with force if need be.
Then there’s the old fashion power of fantasy that, it turns out, is a two way street. “Did you notice Edward’s nipples were different sizes?” a woman in her 40s asked me on the way home after the movie. I had to admit that I did not. I was, in fact, snoring by that point. But it brought to mind the fact that the boy-Gods were not even human. Where men might be accused of supporting a pornography trade built on explicit sexual fantasy, the fact that Edward and Jake are not human seems to heighten their appeal to women. In all that longing and fighting and running and leaving and reuniting, these guys rise above the day-to-day fray of doing the dishes and taking out the trash.
I admit that despite a couple brief naps I ended up liking New Moon more than I expected as much for what it helped me understand about women as the rather crude plot of the movie.
But don’t be surprised if I sprout fangs.
