Drew Chambers wonders how he’ll know that he’s no longer a boy.
I’m not sure whether I’m a man yet.
Mainly I think this is because no one has sat me down and told me that I am a man, or taken me off into the wilderness to cast off my boyhood by killing and skinning a wild beast with my own hands. I have passed a heap of potentially meaningful milestones so far in my life—graduations, confirmations, awards, summer programs—but nothing so far that’s left me with a glowing, definitive feeling of manliness.
Coming to college was probably the closest I’ve come to embarking on a story-like coming of age adventure, and though I’ve grown up a lot in the last three years (learned how to interact with other people, made some good mistakes, come to some important realizations), I’m still wondering whether I’m done becoming a man. Which is why it would be a lot simpler to have a big, life-threatening ordeal, followed by a ceremony, to let me know that I’ve made it.
I went through something like that once, but it was when I was definitely still a boy. It was at a boys’ summer camp in North Carolina, which I attended every summer until I was about 14. This camp had an exciting, though sometimes emotionally traumatizing, promotion system. Campers could be promoted every week if their counselors considered them worthy—a very clever control mechanism that I and my fellow campers bought into completely.
Not being promoted was a BIG deal. I cried. And mostly because the far-off goal of this promotion system was the rank of “Little Chief,” which was renamed “Paladin” once the camp switched away from its originally all Native American naming system. Those older campers promoted to this rank got to wear braveheart-style black and white face paint and stand in a circle at the weekly council ring, beating on drums and lighting big fires, all of which they did in complete silence. They were unspeakably cool.
Rumors abounded about the special tests they had to go through to achieve their rank, because Paladins weren’t just promoted, they were nominated by their counselors and then had to pass through a series of unknown trials. Did they have to survive in the woods on their own for three days? Run over a mountain in a rainstorm? Start a fire from scratch?
All of these seemed plausible, but all that we knew for sure was that their ordeal ended with a 24-hour period of silence.
♦♦♦
One special council ring night, I made it. I was nominated, and the next weekend at our big group overnight I finally went through the secret ordeal. The other nominees and I were taken by our counselors in the middle of the night to a river, where we were given the chance to jump feet first into a three-foot wide, ten-foot deep tubular hole in the bedrock of the river bed known as the Ranger Hole. If we could reach the bottom of this hole and retrieve a rock, and then remain silent for the next twenty-four hours, we would be paladins.
This actually was one of the more terrifying and awesome things that has happened to me in my life. I went down to the bottom and got a rock, which I brought up to the surface and then lost within three minutes. I had some trouble with the silence part, but they gave me another shot and I got through that, too.
And as much as I’d thought I’d feel different, I didn’t. I was still that goofy, insecure, and occasionally picked on late adolescent who’d jumped into that pool. And, in hindsight, I really don’t know whether the camp directors and counselors were up to something more than crowd control with the whole promotion system and that ridiculously dangerous secret ordeal. Maybe they were trying to teach us to work toward something slowly, and to take responsibility for our behavior little by little until we no longer needed counselors to push us in the right direction?
I suppose that’s what it means to grow up and become a man. You learn to leave behind your counselors and parents and teachers and face your actions and ensure that they are worthy of being claimed. Maybe manhood begins when we start to understand the complications of being autonomous human beings—struggling with self-realization and decision-making, trying to do right by others, learning what drives us, or guides us, or tempts us.
Becoming a man isn’t about getting it all figured out. It’s about accepting the responsibility to keep trying to figure it out. As I see it, manhood isn’t so much a title as it is a lifelong pursuit.
—Drew Chambers
A version of this essay was published last year in The Carletonian as part of the “What it Means to Me to Be a Good Man” series compiled by Chase Kimball, then a senior at Carleton College.
About Drew Chambers
Your story is really interesting. If you’ve read any stuff by Robert Bly, he talks about how in many ancient cultures (especially in pre-agricultural ones that still to this day subsist on hunting and gathering), the concepts of the ordeal and initiation were very important in the transition from boy to man. I think the importance of it is more than just symbolic; going through something extremely difficult gives you confidence that you can do anything, and being ceremonially initiated welcomes you into a community of men, and connection with those who have come before you. It sounds like this “initiation” you had at camp was like that, but didn’t really connect with the real needs that were there – so it felt hollow, like it was all just a game. A friend of mine once told me that one of the biggest problems with society today is that “we are a nation of uninitiated men.” We are untested, unproven, directionless, and we’ve lost the connection to our fathers and elders who in the past would’ve taught us and accepted us into that community.
So is the answer to try to bring back the ordeal and initiation, or to accept that we never really pass a specific point that says, “now I am a man”? I’d say a combination of both. I think growing up is a gradual thing, but ceremonies can certainly punctuate it – in my college fraternity, initiation is our most important ceremony, when we accept the new brothers in and swear an oath to support and protect each other. And when I witness it, year after year, I definitely get the feeling that there is something very fundamental to what it means to be a man going on there. But then come even more challenges of maturing, accepting leadership, and guiding younger brothers – all which happen gradually. So I’d say a mix of both.
-Tim
PS – I’m also an Eagle Scout. Troop 219, St. Pete Florida. Be prepared.
I always assumed at some point I’d “feel” grown up – but with 4 kids and an amazing wife, job i love, and house I somehow manage to pay for – that feeling hasn’t happened yet
If you don’t know whether or not you are a man then nobody can tell you. You aren’t going to know it through external validation.
You are an Eagle! How are you asking this question?
I don’t really know you all that well Mr. Chambers, but if you are an Eagle, then you are a man by all definitions. Most of the males in America you will come across are not even close to this level of manliness. I’d say you are more of a man than 83% of the males out there (26 million veterans/active duty, I figure service makes you a man too).
You are certainly more of a man than ‘The Situation’ or any of that unfortunate part of our culture. These pseudo-men are fickle and lie to their family and friends in order to look cool or get some material item. They lack any sense of true friendship and undependable, skipping work due to hangovers. They are selfish and lazy, barely lifting a finger to help with chores or friends move. They call people racial slurs and ridicule missteps and faults. They fail to be chivalrous to their fellow man, cutting in lines, laughing at people when they are down, fighting and drinking to excess among strangers. They mock the hard work of others and vandalize the public areas. They ignore and disrespect their bosses, sleeping with the wives of other men. They are sour, seeing the bad side of life instead of rejoicing in the beauty of existence, complaining of the bad choices they made. They are cowards, picking fights only when they have the advantage, running from their responsibilities, scavenging the works of others. They are slobs who waste their money and the money of others, they take loans they cannot repay, they gamble their rent, and they cannot repair their property. They are filled with diseases and wantonly spread them, they appear nice but their beauty is only skin deep. They flaunt responsibility and pray for pity yet remain unreformed.
However, being an Eagle and a man, you are not these things. You are trustworthy; a man tells the truth, is honest, and he keeps his promises; people can depend on him always. You are loyal; a man is is loyal to those to whom loyalty is due. You are helpful, a man cares about other people, helps others without expecting payment or reward, and fulfills his duties to his family by helping at home. You are friendly; a man is a friend to all, a brother to other men, offers his friendship to people of all races, religions, and nations, and respects them even if their beliefs and customs are different from his own. You are courteous; a man is polite to people of all ages and positions, understands that using good manners makes it easier to get along. You are kind; a man treats others as he wants to be treated, knows there is strength in being gentle, and does not harm or kill any living thing without good reason. You are kind; a man follows the rules of his society, he obeys the laws of his community and country, if he thinks these rules and laws are unfair, he seeks to have them changed in an orderly way. You are Cheerful; a man looks for the bright side of life, cheerfully does tasks that come his way and tries his best to make others happy, too. You are thrifty; a man works to pay his way and to help others, saves for the future, protects and conserves natural resources, and is careful in his use of time and property. You are brave; a man faces danger even if he is afraid. You are Clean; a man keeps his body and mind fit, chooses friends who also live by high standards, avoids profanity and pornography (worse than simple nudity), helps keep his home and community clean. You are Reverent; a man is reverent toward God, the universe, or the flying spaghetti monster, is faithful in his religious duties, and respects the beliefs of others. (Taken from: http://www.troop97.net/ideals.htm)
I hope to have convinced you that by virtue of being an Eagle you are a man without any doubt. Let me further enumerate. To be something, there has to be a counter point to it. On to off, ying to yang, light to dark, and so on. Therefore to be a man, you have to not be something else. ‘The Situation’ believes that to be a man, you have to not be a woman. That the man’s counter is the female. This is false. It is the adult not the adolescent that makes a man. To be a man, you must not be a boy. Man to boy, not man to woman.
Let’s be clear though, you are a man. The simple fact that you worry about being a man is enough to make you one. The cast of the ‘Jersey Shore’, Spencer Pratt, Glenn Beck, most office drones, frat boys, these males wouldn’t even conceive of asking this question of themselves. They sit down at night and ask if they are happy. A man asks if he has done well that day, and smiles because he has.
Other resources:
* http://artofmanliness.com/ a fantastic resource
* http://www.esquire.com/ for the swagger
* http://jezebel.com/ for the woman’s take
* http://www.eaglescout.org/ for a reminder
**The Eagle Scout Oath**
I (re)affirm my allegiance to the three promises of the Scout Oath.
I thoughtfully recognize and take upon myself the obligations and responsibilities of an Eagle Scout. On my honor, I will do my best to make my training an example and my status and my influence count strongly for better Scouting and for better citizenship in my troop, in my community, and in my contacts with other people.
To this I pledge my sacred honor.
I sure thought by Forty I’d have it figured out. Went back to school to get advanced degree and ended up moving backwards career wise. Going through a divorce now and really trying to figure it out. Becoming a father was the pivotal moment and then reevaluating things now with gut wrenching uncertainty as I navigate the divorce and all that that entails with broken visions for how fatherhood and consequently my own manhood would play out. You begin to become a man when you wake up at forty and think “what the hell happened to my 30’s” and then begin to accept it and refigure out what is really important for the rest of your life.
Girls are told they are women the day they first menstruate. Trust me, that’s confusing as hell because becoming one’s gender is about becoming one’s self ~ and there’s no age for that. However, there is a voice that emerges as your own and we’re reading yours. Well done.
To paraphrase an old Matt Groenig Cartoon (Life in Hell): You know you’re a man when you wake up one morning, look in the mirror and realize you sure as hell aren’t a kid anymore.
From what I gather in some American circles, the things that define you as a man most are: marriage, procreating and a career. If you don’t have all these things lined up, you’re somehow less than a man to some people.