upworthy

boys

@dougweaverart/TikTok

Imagine if all boys had this kind of support to embrace all parts of themselves.

We often hear about how binary gender norms affect young girls, but any man who’s ever been made fun of for being sensitive or liking “girly” things during childhood can tell you they influence young boys as well. And perhaps the worst offense of these arbitrary limitations is the way they keep individuals from truly knowing and expressing all parts of themselves, which can lead to a slew of interpersonal problems late in life.

Boys in particular are often taught from an early age to shun the qualities in themselves considered to be feminine—things like empathy, compassion, having strong emotions, etc. It’s so well documented now how not nurturing these qualities leads to isolation and loneliness in adulthood, and yet messages like “boys don’t cry” or “pink is for girls” still persist.

Artist, TikTok creator and Doug Weaver (@dougweaverart) recently made a few excellent points as to why adult men need to be the example for young boys if we truly wish to see a change.


In a stitched response to a video where a mom lamented that she knew how to help her daughter “fight back” against gender norms, but not her son, Weaver argued that above all, it’s important for young boys to see grown men “defy” the expectations culture puts on them.

“Society will try to beat boys down until they fall in line,” Weaver said, sharing his own experience of seeing his son come home from school after being bullied for wearing pink and liking unicorns (which, of course, are “for girls” only).

Weaver said that the only solution he saw was to “pinkify” his own life, and be that example his son so desperately needed.


@dougweaverart @Mel | Med Student raising boys is scary, because we know just how much society is built to tear them down. #men #masculinity #parenting #boydad #greenscreenvideo ♬ original sound - dougweaverart

“I added so much pink to my wardrobe,” he explained, saying that he even painted his nails pink so that he’d be seen as the “problem” instead of his son.

“They don’t say anything to me. If they’re not brave enough to confront the color pink, they’re not going to confront me.”

Weaver added that the larger conversation he tries to have with his son is how this is a “fight worth having,” not just for men with feminine qualities but for “but for everyone society tries to reject.”

He then used this example: a boy who secretly wants to wear a dress to school, but doesn’t to avoid getting bullied. Weaver said that solution only works temporarily, since the dress is only a small manifestation of a larger aspect of the boy’s identity, which he would be repressing to fit an expectation.

“They’re getting bullied for what they wear now, they’re going to get bullied for who they are later. And if changing their clothes made the bullying go away when they were younger, they might think that changing their personality will make the bullying go away when they are older.”

What’s more, for this hypothetical boy, for Weaver’s son, and for any boy really, there’s something very vital that’s lost in chasing this idea of masculinity.

“The people who want to take colors from him also want to take his creativity,” Weaver explains “They want to take away his kindness, they want to take away everything that is soft in his life. His feelings and his emotions. They wanna take away his ability to love people who are different from him.”

Yep, that hits the nail of the head perfectly.

And that is why Weaver prioritizes being the example for his son, because “if he sees people criticize me from time to time, and he sees how unaffected I am by it, that is an example to him of the strength and tenacity that it takes for anyone to just be their authentic self.”

And, perhaps more importantly, Weaver is teaching his son that he will be loved and accepted, no matter how he expresses himself. Imagine a world in which all children were taught this valuable lesson.

Photo by saeed karimi on Unsplash

The scenarios of parenting have many hurdles in order to offer a healthy way of approaching life.

The second week of first grade, my 6-year-old son came home and told me, very seriously, "Mama, I have a girlfriend, and I love her."

I didn't laugh at him or tell him he is too young to have a girlfriend, and I didn't minimize his feelings. We had a very serious conversation about his girlfriend: what he likes about her, what they talk about at lunch, and what games they play on the playground at recess. I asked questions about her; some he knew the answers to, and some he didn't.

Nearly every day after that for some time, we talked about his girlfriend, and in every conversation, in some way, we talked about consent — what it means, what it looks like, and how I expect him to act.


I didn't objectify the little girl by referring to her as "your little girlfriend" as I've heard other adults tease their own children. I didn't make jokes about him being a heartbreaker or tell him that the girls will be falling all over him by high school. I didn't tell him his feelings don't matter — and I definitely didn't tell him her feelings don't matter. I think the seeds of misogyny are planted with words as much as behavior, and I treated his emotions seriously because, for him, being in love for the first time is the most serious thing in the world. He will remember this little girl just as I remember my first boyfriend, and how I handle things now is setting the tone for the future.

I wasn't expecting to have these conversations in the context of a relationship quite so soon.

His older brother is more introverted, with the exception of the occasional fleeting crush. But I have been talking about consent and modeling it since my sons were babies.

The idea that young men need to learn about consent in high school or college goes hand-in-hand with the idea that sex education shouldn't be taught before then, either. Consent is an ongoing conversation in our home, framed to suit the situation. But now that my son has a girlfriend, I'm finding ways to introduce the concept of consent within a relationship on a level that he can understand.

From the time my sons were very little — before they could even talk — I started teaching them about body autonomy and consent.

"Do you want me to tickle you?" "Can I pick you up?" "Do you want me to brush your hair?"

I would ask whenever I could, waiting for their response before proceeding. Yes, of course, there are times when a young child needs to be picked up or hair needs to be brushed whether they want it or not, but there are just as many times when children can be given — and deserve — the right to choose. And so I let them decide whenever I can.

Teaching them that no one can touch them without permission was the first step in teaching them about respecting the boundaries of others.

I model the respect I expect them to extend to others. It is an ongoing lesson, as the most important lessons always are.

Of course they fight — what siblings don't? But I teach them that, whatever the game or activity, if someone says "Stop!" or "No!" they are to stop what they are doing.

To that end, I try to stay out of their squabbles and give them time to sort them out. If they don't stop, there are consequences. We talk about how it feels to have someone keep chasing, tickling, or bothering you when you've told them to stop. I watch their empathy for others grow as they consider how it feels to be little and have grownups want to touch their faces or hug them without permission. They're learning, and it gives me hope.

But now I'm having daily conversations with my youngest son about girlfriends and what is — and isn't — OK.

He knows he has to ask if she wants a hug before he touches her. He knows that it's rude to refer to her as "my girlfriend" when talking about her and that it's better, and more respectful, to use her name.

He knows that if he gives her a gift, he should give her a chance to respond instead of inundating her with more gifts. "Let's wait and see how she feels about this lovely picture you made her before you draw another one," I tell him, explaining how overwhelming it can be to have someone give you gifts when you're not ready for them or haven't had a chance to return the affection. Of course, I'm thinking about the boy I knew my junior year of high school who would constantly leave me trinkets of his affection at my locker — affection that wasn't reciprocated and made me uncomfortable, especially after I asked him to stop.

I don't know if I'm doing this right, honestly.

There are times when I think to myself, "But he's only 6! Why are we even having this conversation?" And then I remind myself, "If not now, when?"

I know what it means to be a girl in this world, and my sons are starting to hear my #MeToo stories, the ones they're old enough to understand. How do I talk about what's wrong in the world if I'm not willing to talk about the right behaviors, the right way to treat women?

I know my sons have a good role model in their father and in our marriage. I know they watch how my husband interacts with me, and I see it reflected in how they treat me. It's a start, but I know it's not enough in a world that sends mixed messages to boys about girls and how to treat them.

It's been eye-opening, seeing how my children regard consent.

I've seen how those early lessons in teaching them about their own right to say no have gone a long way in teaching them the empathy and respect they show for others now.

I know we're not done; we're only just starting. I know it's only going to get more complicated as they get older.

But at the end of the day, no matter their age, the core lesson is the same: respect people, care about how they are feeling in your interactions with them, and remember that others have a right to feel differently than you do and to set boundaries for what is OK with them. The situations will change, but those words will be repeated again and again.

Teaching consent is not a one-time discussion. It's something I want my sons to think about every single day.

This story originally appeared on Ravishly and is reprinted here with permission. More from Ravishly:

    Cats are the undisputed rulers of the internet.

    And because recent research suggests that our feline friends would murder us all if they weren't so small, it's probably best that we continue appeasing them by purchasing shirts, mugs, and all other manner of cat-branded accoutrements to continue showing our undying fealty to these juggernauts of the animal kingdom.


    There's one problem, though: Despite the fact that cats are metal AF, they're somehow still seen as animals "only girls like."

    Ridiculous, right? One man certainly thought so. And he's doing something about it.

    In an April 2 Facebook post that's gone viral, David Pendragon told a story that's both heartbreaking and uplifting.

    It involves his cousin's 10-year-old son, who was bullied for bringing a dope-ass lunchbox covered in a violently hued array of kittens to school.

    From Pendragon's post:

    "My cousin, Emily, has a 10 year old son named Ryker. Ryker, who loves cats, was very excited to get his new lunchbox. Unfortunately because of its colors, or because it has cats, or both he was teased about it by other boys in his class. He even wanted to stop taking his lunch so he wouldn't be teased about it any longer."

    How messed up is that? Spoiler alert: very.

    Of all the everyday disappointments of being a kid, I can think of nothing sadder than being told you shouldn't enjoy something just because it's "girly."

    My cousin, Emily, has a 10 year old son named Ryker. Ryker, who loves cats, was very excited to get his new lunchbox....

    Posted by David Pendragon on Monday, April 2, 2018

    What's wrong with being "girly"? Absolutely nothing.

    But it's that kind of thinking that can trap boys in patterns of toxic masculinity (via harmful messages like "men don't show emotions," "men don't cry," and "men should reject anything that's considered to be feminine") and demean women.

    And yet, as a society, we continue to perpetuate this idea for no other reason than "that's the way it's always been."

    But it hasn't.

    Did you know that pink used to be a "boy" color?

    A quick bit of history: It wasn't until the 1940s that blue became synonymous with boys. In fact, for a long time, Smithsonian.com notes, boys would wear white dresses and have long hair until the age of 6 or 7. This was seen as gender neutral. When colors came into the picture, pink was initially seen as the most "masculine" option.

    In 1918, pink was prescribed for boys due to it being a "more decided and stronger color," having been derived from the bold color red. For girls? The "delicate and dainty" blue.

    But it got even more complicated, with shifting trends suggesting that blue and pink weren't about gender at all, but about babies' coloring. Have a blond kid? Wrap 'em up in blue. Your baby's first hairs showing up a dark auburn? Swaddle 'em in pink.

    In 1927, Smithsonian.com adds, Time magazine published an article informing parents which colors were "appropriate" based on sales at top department stores. The color for boys? Pink.

    So, what changed? Manufacturers interpreted these changing customer preferences and switched things up. Generations since have been passing down the idea that boys and girls have specific, gender-prescribed color preferences.

    And sometimes, when these views are challenged, moral panic ensues.

    Remember what happened when Target decided to go gender neutral for in-store signs advertising kids' clothes and toys? Or the much-to-do that occurred when a father bought his daughter a "Little Mermaid" doll? (That kid's got good taste, by the way. Ariel's the undisputed best of all the Disney princesses.)

    Forcing kids into gender roles at a young age is harmful.

    As Cassandra Stone points out on Scary Mommy, making kids choose what they like based on how their genitalia looked at birth is breaking their spirits and setting them on a path of self-denial.

    Why shouldn't a girl love monster trucks? And why shouldn't a boy love kittens? Or dresses? There really isn't any reason except a desperate clinging to archaic thinking. (Check out FDR rocking a white dress and long hair in 1884. He grew up to be president.)

    And isn't that what we should really be focusing on — making the world a safer place for everyone to express themselves? It's more important to make sure that all kids learn it's OK to be themselves.

    Pendragon agrees. That's why he's stepping up for his cousin in the best way possible.

    "So I have ordered the same lunchbox for myself and proudly carried it to work today at my large, conservative, corporate workplace," he wrote. "I've told anyone who asked the story behind my lunchbox and ... they all stand with Ryker too."

    "There's no one way to be a man," he added. "Men can be colorful. Men can be expressive. Men can be emotional and silly and gleeful."

    Most importantly? Men (and boys) can step up for others to end the notion that we can't like what we like and feel what we feel. It's up to us to encourage each other to just be ourselves.

    "If you want to be 'man enough,' you don't cry. You can't show pain. You can't show upset."

    These are the messages teen boys are getting from our society, as revealed in an interview with NBC's Stephanie Ruhle. She sat down with five teens aged 13 to 17 to talk about what it means to grow up as boys and men in the U.S.

    The interview, aired on March 25, was partially inspired by a New York Times op-ed by actor Michael Ian Black published in February. In "The Boys Are Not All Right," Black describes our society’s culture of masculinity and how it’s affecting boys:


    "Too many boys are trapped in the same suffocating, outdated model of masculinity, where manhood is measured in strength, where there is no way to be vulnerable without being emasculated, where manliness is about having power over others. They are trapped, and they don't even have the language to talk about how they feel about being trapped, because the language that exists to discuss the full range of human emotion is still viewed as sensitive and feminine."

    Black explained in the Sunday segment that boys are the ones pulling the trigger in almost all mass shootings. In fact, 94% of mass shootings have been carried out by men (about 50% of whom have histories of domestic violence).

    "Most boys are going to grow up and never ever commit acts of violence like this," Black pointed out. "But I feel confident in saying most boys would also rather starve to death in their homes than ask their male friend for help shoveling their driveway. This rigid model of masculinity — it's killing us."

    Michael Ian Black speaking in North Hollywood in May 2017. Photo by Emma McIntyre/Getty Images.

    Our society tells boys that they need to "man up" — but no one really knows what that means.

    The teens interviewed seem to confirm Black's analysis. When Ruhle asked them which of them has been told to "man up," all five boys immediately raised their hands.

    When asked what it means, one teen responded, "No clue." Another said, "Show no emotion."

    Ruhle asked what they felt was the hardest part about growing up as boys. 17-year-old Jordany Robleto-Baltazar responded, "Hiding the pain."

    Ty Duggins, 13, replied, "Not being able to express yourself."

    "It kind of makes you feel trapped, almost," added Tyler Gamett, 15, "because it’s like you have nowhere to go."

    Boys don't know how to seek comfort from each other — or how to offer it without embarrassment.

    Dr. Niobe Way, professor of developmental psychology at NYU, also offered some thoughts in the segment, noting that all kinds of emotional challenges hit boys right about the time they're being told to "man up."

    "Not needing other people — that is at the root of masculinity," Way told NBC. "And if you look at all the school shooters, including the one at Parkland, every single one of them has said in some way that they feel desperate for connection."

    Dylann Lippiatt-Cook, 16, spoke about feeling like he shouldn't cry, even though he knows it's a normal way to express human emotion. "It's normal, but it's not normal," he said. "It is human, but it is not 'man.'"

    Mourners embrace at a vigil for Parkland shooting victims. Photo by Rhona Wise/Getty Images.

    Robleto-Baltazar described an incident where a friend he was with started crying. He didn't know what to do. He'd never been confronted with having to comfort a guy friend in that way.

    The friend finally said, "I think I just need a hug," so Robleto-Baltazar hugged him. Then afterward, they looked at each other and said, "We are never going to say anything to anyone."

    Still, there might just be hope for our boys — especially if they ask for help.

    At this point in the video, I just wished I could hug these teenagers!

    Despite the historical gender inequality women have had to put up with, at least we're allowed to have and express our feelings. I'm raising a son and doing my best to counteract the societal forces that create an unhealthy sense of masculinity — but it's not easy.

    These boys struck me as being pretty aware of their own conditioning, and, obviously, they were able to express how it's affected them. But they still struggle with the stigma of showing emotion.

    At the end of the interview, Ruhle asked the boys, "How can we make things easier for you?"

    "I think it starts with kids," said Jake Hillerman, 17. "Teach them about expressing yourself without viewing it as a wrong."

    Gamett made it sound easy: "Get rid of the old stereotypes that we have in our society of a 'manly figure.'"

    As difficult as it is to hear that boys in our society are struggling, these teens' self-awareness gives me hope. And I'm seeing more and more men talking about this stuff openly and without shame.

    For example, in addition to Michael Ian Black's op-ed, actor Justin Baldoni recently brought together a group of other celebrity men to film a new show discussing what it means to be a man. They tackle vulnerability, body image, emotional expectations, and more.

    "We Are Man Enough"serves as a wonderful example to young men who yearn for more emotionally open relationships with other men.

    The boys may not be all right now, but as a mom of a boy who's trying to break through old ideas of manhood, this changing culture of masculinity makes me confident that they'll get there.