Michael Doran is happy he took such a tough and winding path toward realizing that he didn’t need to prove his manliness.
I’m not a “guy.” Somehow I have always known that I was different than other the other boys. Now, this is not the classical case of being effeminate and coming out of the closet years later to an accepting (or un-accepting family). I am definitely Hetero. I just never got into the things that guys got into. I was not into watching sports and only played them in a thinly veiled attempt to fit in. I liked computers and video games, but was not a braniac programming nerd—although I sort of wish I was since it’s pretty clear that nerds rule the world.
I was a sensitive kid. I got picked on and beaten up, but I took it like I thought a man should. I tried to fight back, but almost always lost because I was small and didn’t know how to fight. For years, I wondered what was wrong with me. I got along well with girls, but I was always as the friend, never the love interest. I eventually retreated into my world of Commodore 64 computer games and books, waiting and hoping for anything to change. They said I was just a late bloomer, that someday I would have my time.
I started to come into my own in my first year out of high school. At my local community college, unburdened by any association from the negativity of my past, I reconnected with an old friend and finally started having some luck with the opposite sex. As I grew older, I realized that I was different than a lot of guys, not that I didn’t waste a lot of time and energy trying to be one. I was always trying to fit in, always unsuccessfully. Sometimes I’d be let into a “group,” reluctantly, and then made the butt of jokes until I ended up walking away. This pattern repeated a few times before I finally wised up and became hyper-selective of who I considered a friend.
I joined a fraternity in my early twenties because I knew I needed to toughen up. I was too sensitive and had not been exposed to large groups of men. I needed to learn how to take and dish crap with the best of them. This also proved not to be very popular. I would speak up if I saw a brother taking a barely conscious girl to his room at a party (and would then make sure she either got home or got to her friends). I spoke my mind when I saw things that I thought were wrong. I left the fraternity even more aware of my outsider status in the of guys, with only a couple of close friends to show for it.
As I grew and entered the corporate world, I kept faking it. I would listen to sports-talk on the radio on the way into work just to be aware enough to talk intelligently about sports, even though I still had no interest.
Then something happened. I began to gain more confidence in who I was. I became more comfortable with myself. My extroverted side came screaming out as I found that I enjoyed things like jumping out airplanes, rock climbing, and white-water rafting. I mellowed. On the rare occasion I came across someone from my past, at a party or back in my hometown, and the inevitable putdowns would occur, I was now simply able to laugh off. Something about jumping out of an airplane 500 times helps reinforce that you are not a coward. The words no longer hurt, and my sense of who I was as a man made it easy to deflect any negativity directed at me.
It was not until I read Michael Kimmel’s Guyland that I finally recognized where I fit. The book talks about the modern guy culture and all of its various roles. Toward the end, he speaks about a minority group: a group that will stand up when they see wrongs, a group that will not go with the flow. Finally, this was my group, a group that he defines as men.
Looking back, I realized that I’d had an internal moral compass this whole time. I did have a sense of who I was—even if I was not aware of it at the time—and what my values were. As I now push 40, I value the path that I have taken as an adult because I can see the end result. Adversity does not bother me; fear does not hold me back. Bad bosses, office gossip, and politics, while it all may register with me, will not slow me down. Now, this path is not the easy path, but it is the path that I plan on guiding my own two sons down. I truly believe it is ultimately the most rewarding path to take.
So, I won’t ever be a guy. I won’t ever fit easily into the guys’ world. I won’t ever fit in with the group of guys gathered at the bar watching the game, won’t be privy to their clubs, outings, organizations, or groups. I am OK with that because I know that I am a man.
—Photo John Steven Fernandez/Flickr
About Michael Doran
“I would speak up if I saw a brother taking a barely conscious girl to his room at a party (and would then make sure she either got home or got to her friends). I spoke my mind when I saw things that I thought were wrong.”
Thank you! Just wanted to say that. This article really made me happy. I’m glad that you were able to overcome the pressure and be who you are, because you seem like a pretty good guy – I mean man!
“I did have a sense of who I was—even if I was not aware of it at the time—and what my values were.”
I agree with this wholeheartedly. Oftentimes, the people who feel the most out of place are the ones with the strongest sense of self. They feel out of place because they realize that they’re not part of the crowd, rather than trying to convince themselves that they are or should be part of the crowd.
I’m a long time faithful husband, father, engineer, homeowner, skier, football and basketball fan, volunteer, mentor, and youth and family counselor, and a bunch of other things.
And I’m a guy.
Like how the term “guy” has become such a derogatory term, and how you’ve position yourself as the “man”.
How is this group bad ? just because you didn’t fit in with them.
Take a look at what is happening at Penn state right now (and what happened previously). That is the guy culture I am referring to. If you speak up to a group of guys when you see one of them doing something wrong, what happens to you? Do they listen to you, take in your opinion objectively, and have a rational debate about it? Or do they simply blow you off with an expletive and derogatory comment? From my experience, it is always the latter.
To me, guy is a derogatory term. That is why I wrote the article about it. I don’t position myself as THE man, but as A man. A man who knows the difference between right and wrong, and is willing to speak up about it, usually at a cost, when he sees something wrong happening.
Maybe you have never been in that position, if so consider yourself lucky. Looking back at my 20′s I can think of at least 10 different instances when I helped a woman in need, sometimes drunk others not, and got her home safe and sound without any fear of an advance by me. What sticks out in my mind is that in every case they were generally relieved and surprised that I had been a gentleman and actually helped them, and they told me that much. What is sad is that they had that apprehension in the first place.
I don’t share your take on the terminology involved, Michael, but I understand what you’re saying. (To me a “guy” is simply a man who takes life casually and focuses on the things he likes rather than meeting anyone else”s expectations or “climbing the ladder.”)
Your story has many elements in common with my own: I was never a sports nut, a ‘jock’ or a “tough guy” (although I’m very tall, rather than a little guy). I took it simply as a description of a fellow introvert, with a working brain. In some sense, a brain is a serious drawback during adolescence; you tend to think before you speak, you consider risks and consequences, and generally you’re not perceived as FUN. You’re not reckless and overconfident, which are the keys to social success.
I’m glad you’re finally comfortable with yourself–which in my experience, is the best definition of being a guy.
Amen! Like you, I struggled with that issue (maybe still do from time to time). For me, add in the perils of an all male prep school (boarding school, yet) with 24/7 pressure to prove you’re a “man” whatever that means at age 13. Getting along, but not quite fitting not; wishing to fit in but not really wanting to. Add in my occupation as a pastor and its hard to find guy friends who treat you like one of them. I’m not a sports nut, but have found my recreation in hands-on stuff like building and remodeling and furniture making. I wish I had found my niche sooner, but having found it, am glad to have arrived there.
I agree, I think the most important thing is to find a subculture, or group that has similar morals to you, as hard as it may be. At times, before ‘I found that, I often felt like the only sane person in an insane asylum. Funnily enough the Skydiving community fit my needs perfectly, people in that community often see themselves as “being the island of misfit toys”. Not fitting in anywhere else but there. In my 8 years in that, heavily male centered envirionment, I never saw any man overstepping the boundaries like I saw in my fraternity, or in the general society that I had grown up in, and there can be very heavy alcohol use there as in othe places.
I can’t imagine the circle of hell that boarding school must have been, but I am sure you will agree with me that those early experiences did nothing but make us stronger men.
I was also very fortunate to make some lifelong friends; my boarding school experience led to college and seminary so that by the time I’d made it out of grad school, I had been with some of these guys for 12 years, time enough to outgrow high school and become friendly, if not friends with them. BTW I have no axe to grind with jocks–I just never was one and found myself envying their camaraderie. I wonder if they also went through the insecurity of finding their identity and I just didn’t know it and assumed only we “misfits” did that. Years later I learned that apparently I was more respected, even liked, than I thought. I just wish I knew that in high school.
I actually was a jock. I played Football and ran track in high school, and was big into Basketball afterwards (intramural) but also sang in the choir. So a bit of a conundrum I am sure. People like putting people into categories, and when you have a foot in a few of them it can generally confuse them. If anyone thinks I have an axe to grind with Athlete’s, I don’t. I do, generally, have disdain for the system of organized sports in our country though, and the double standard that exists around it.
I finished my BA as an adult, and I took quite a few classes with a man who had played in the NFL for 8 years. He and I had some deep talks about this area, and he shared quite a few stories of what life is like in the system. I will admit now that I am heavily biased against the system, but do feel sorry for the players. He, in particular, had been searching for a father figure in sports, and was pretty much thrown away when he came to the end of his useful life for them. Something he was still working to come to terms with when I met him.
Great article, Michael. Thank you.
Bill Engvall (Blue Collar Comedy Tour) wrote a book titled “Just a Guy”; he also has a skit where he compares being a man to being a guy. I just wanted to mention it for anyone who wants to explore the comparison/contrast between the two.
I’m an outsider as well. Your story echoes with what I’ve gone through. But, for all of you who feel the same, take Shakespeare’s words to heart (spoken by Glendower, King Henry IV Part 1, Scene 3): “These signs have mark’d me extraordinary;
And all the courses of my life do show
I am not in the roll of common men.”
We are men as like any man, but something in us will not conform to general social norms. We are different, having uncommon gifts or qualities to benefit mankind with.
I’m glad you found your way, but perhaps it’s not wise to denigrate other “guys” in the process. Whether you realize it or not, that’s what you did here. Cast all the guys who likes sports, join frats, give each other shit, etc as somehow lesser than your version of being a “real man.”
I wish we could all find our own way without putting others down.
You say Michael Doran has denigrated “all the guys who likes sports, join frats, give each other shit, etc.” Have you ever objected to any individuals in the category you defend when they have denigrated guys who didn’t happen to share their interests? I’d say the particular denigration I’ve just mentioned has been going on far, far longer (for generations, I’d say) than any critical comments on the part of Michael Doran. I’ll give you some examples of real denigration from my own observations and experiences. I’m sorry this reply won’t be short.
When I was in the eighth grade, I was being bullied at school; and my grades had fallen. (The truth be known, I had already been chronically depressed for many years.) So, my parents decided to send me to a clinical psychologist — who, unfortunately, turned out to be abysmally incompetent. Without any evaluation whatsoever for the purpose of discerning why I lacked self-confidence, he insisted I take judo lessons, although judo was not the solution to my problems. Besides, the bullying was emotional, not physical. He couldn’t have made a worse choice for an instructor — a former university football player whose thinking was completely dominated by machismo in all of its many negative aspects. (Yes, I know some football players don’t subscribe to machismo. That’s beside the point.) I always felt like an outsider in his dojo. (Years later I would find out why.) When he promoted me to brown belt (a promotion that I did not deserve), I felt like he was patronizing me. By the spring of my junior year in high school, I had had enough of this nonsense; and I quit, half expecting to hear a strong protest from him. But, of course, my dad never heard from him.
Eight years later I paid him a visit. Although he had always seemed distant and uncaring, I had respected him because he was an adult. He soon lost all my respect when he shared his peculiar views. He claimed he had “saved (me) from homosexuality”! This despite the fact that I NEVER had homosexual tendencies and NEVER had a desire to engage in homosexual behavior. The very thought was abhorrent to me. You might ask yourself, What was the basis of his claim? Well, the answer is simple. Because he STEREOTYPED me. I was a physically weak, nonathletic boy who had no interest in sports. I avoided physical confrontation with bullies, because they were all physically stronger than I was. I liked to read H.G. Wells and books about wildlife. Therefore, in his warped way of “thinking,” I had to be a “sissy” and therefore should be suspected of being a homo in the making. (Never mind gay men have always participated in sports.) He also claimed that only athletes and men in certain blue-collar professions were “real men.” He even denigrated the eminent Soviet physicist Andrei Sakharov, who had become a leading dissident in his homeland. He actually claimed that Sakharov wasn’t really courageous. (Yeah, I guess he wasn’t courageous like Coach McQueary at Penn State.)
While I was still in high school, a childhood friend of mine (who was attending another high school in the same district) made the football team. Since I didn’t know how football was played and since I didn’t enjoy a high position in the social hierarchy at my high school (such standing based upon superficiality), he began to view me as being someone who wasn’t worthy of his time. I tried to resume our friendship after we had graduated from high school, but our relationship had devolved to that of mere acquaintance. Decades later when his father died, I attended his father’s funeral; and he was glad to see me. Several years later we had a brief e-mail exchange in which he raised the issue of football. He said most of his teammates had viewed the nonathletic guys at their high school as inferior. (I didn’t think to ask him if he had shared their negative view of nonathletic guys. Perhaps I should have. His answer might have been interesting.) The next year I read an interesting comment posted at another website by a high-school football player who was attending a parochial school. He said that many of his teammates considered the nonathletic guys at their schools to be “fags.” So, sports are a test of manhood; and teenage boys who don’t measure up (or simply don’t have an interest in sports) are unmanly. Who’s denigrating whom here?
For generations nonathletic boys (especially those who are scrawny, as I was, and those who are fat) have frequently been bullied in mandatory “sports only” P.E. classes, which don’t provide any exercise programs for nonathletic students. Some of these kids were (or have been) emotionally scarred for life. Did anyone care? I could post link after link after link of testimony. I’d say physical bullying is a far more severe form of “denigration” than a few comments in a blog.
By the way, I don’t fit a nice little stereotype that would facilitate someone’s attempt to discredit what I have to say. For several years I’ve hired a personal trainer at a health club to work with me on a bodybuilding program. In other words, I’m a very physically active guy who’s in far better shape than he ever was as a boy when he had to endure the “old” P.E. and then was taught judo by a jerk who was, in fact, a bigot.
Thank you for your comment. I had similar experiences, and even when trying to fit in by joining the football team, or later a Fraternity, was still singled out somehow as “different”. Different being that I spoke my mind and did not just go with the flow. It affected me at the time.
I did not really overcome it until I became a skydiver. I have over 500 jumps and really learned more about myself through it, as well as how to use Fear to propel me forward (no skydiver ever is unafraid, at least the sane ones aren’t).
Suddenly I had insight into myself, and a lot more self confidence. If someone tried to put me down it did not matter to me. I was secure in my manhood. If they tried to denigrate me somehow or question my manhood because I was not a typical “guy” i’d just laugh at them.
I did not have to prove anything to anyone else anymore, I had proven it finally to myself. That is ultimately what matters.
Thank you for your response, Michael!
Ever since my early teens, my heroes have not been sports stars, actors, or rock singers. (After all, they’re entertainers, not heroes.) I’ve long been inspired by men (and women) who led social reform movements in this and other countries or spoke out against oppression behind the Iron Curtain or risked their lives to save Jews from the Holocaust. I’ve deeply appreciated those individual Americans who first questioned the legitimacy of Jim Crow and then spoke out against it. I suspect most of these men were “different” in the same way as you; namely, that they had the courage of their own convictions and did not fit in with whatever the prevailing mindset was. Does the “guy” culture appreciate this sort of heroism? I’m convinced moral courage is not as highly appreciated as some people would assume.
The now departed father of a childhood friend of mine represented black citizens of this country in discrimination lawsuits during the 1950s and the early 1960s. He and his family frequently received death threats. I’m sure he had more courage than most (if not all) of his high-school classmates, yet he seems to have felt ashamed for not having made the football team! Go figure …
But what can we expect from the popular culture that purports to define masculinity for all of us with a “one size fits all” approach? Would Esquire Magazine ever feature an article on the heroism of a man such as Andrei Sakharov or Raoul Wallenberg? No, I seriously doubt it. Most likely, the sort of man they’d honor would be a self-centered, self-indulgent playboy.
A guy’s search for his own masculinity follows different pathways. It just figures, as there’s so much diversity among men (certainly far more than I realized when I was an ignorant teenager). After all, we’re half the human race.
I don’t expect anyone who considers themselves a “guy” to be happy with what I have written here. I stand by my article though, and my opinion. My views have never made me popular with the majority, however they elicit very strong responses by a minority of men, as well as heavily with women. That tells me something.
I encourage everyone to read Guyland by the sociologist Michael Kimmel. I think you will find it an interesting read.