Personal Experiences with Manhood

            As a 19-year-old male, it is likely that I would have achieved definitive manhood in other cultures.  As outlined in the descriptions of other cross-cultural manhood practices, I would have become a man by the time I was eight in Vanuatu society (but only after bungee jumping off of a 100 foot platform).  Or if I had been born into an Australian Aborigine society, I would have become a man by age 16—given the cost of a painful circumcision ritual.  Even in America, it’s possible I should have a personal sense of my own manhood by now.  At 18 years of age, a child is no longer warranted child support from the father of a divorced parent (perhaps because he is no longer a “child” in the context of society).  Additionally, an 18 year old goes off to college and has the liberties of buying tobacco products.  However, despite these notions, I find myself unable to qualify my personal manhood experience.  Overall, I feel there are general processes of maturation in American culture, but no specific outline for becoming a man in the presence of your father or elders.

            Nowadays, I feel one’s American manhood is mainly viewed in the context of their peers.  Particularly, there is a strong emphasis on sexuality.  I have heard many college friends ask others what their ‘body count’ is—and for those who answer with higher numbers, more respect is earned.  As a college sophomore, I still have close ties with many of my friends back home, and with each return I’m fascinated.  The first questions they ask me are often along the lines of “hey, how are you?” Or “how has school been going.”  But immediately following these icebreakers, I’ll get something like “how have the ladies been treating you?”  I have always had competitive friends, but with my additional experiences at Gettysburg, it seems one’s manhood is often tied to sex in our modern era.

            Furthermore, in the context of my peers, I felt my “manhood” was often judged in the context of sports.  In high school, I played on varsity soccer and hockey teams, and in each case, I found myself in similar roles.  As a starting defender for the soccer team, my role often involved slide tackling and out-bodying opponents.  And in hockey, while I assisted goals, my duties often involved checking the competition.  Whenever I made a great slide tackle or a big open-ice check on the opposition, I would always hear a wave of cheer from fans and teammates.  Thus, physical contact correlated to ‘manhood’ before my peers.

            For me, I feel my manhood has only been judged in these societal contexts.  With my father, I cannot make any clear connection to one of my personal actions that changed his perception of me.  In the Gebusi tribe and other cultures, ritual acts held before elders result in altered perceptions of those involved in the ceremony.  The individual starts off a boy or adolescent, but after whatever the process entails, he is forever viewed in a different context as a man.  I feel as though I have not quite had this experience, or at least, it has been much less clearly displayed.  I have gone through what many consider ‘American’ passage rituals—I have graduated high school, gone off to college, had girlfriends, earned my driver’s license, and so on.  But at each step, apart from a congratulations from my parents, it was not as if I was then viewed as someone else, someone transformed into a new being. 

            While I haven’t had any definitive manhood ‘moment’, American culture is diverse, and it is possible some events do truly impact perceptions.  An American son may graduate high school, move on to college, and his elders may forever recognize him as an adult.  While it does not represent a ‘manhood’ process and instead demonstrates a ‘womanhood’ process, my girlfriend was recognized as an adult once she turned 18 years of age.  Consequently, she can go out whenever she wants where she wants when she is home over breaks (and she need not inform her parents of her plans).  However, as a 19 year old, I still find myself occasionally restricted by my parents.  I might not always be let out, and when I do find myself leaving home, I have to provide every possible detail: where I am going, who will be there, and when I will be back.  I do not know if this process merely represents thorough parenting, but sometimes it feels like a personal blow to my manhood.  After all, I am an adult by law and have gone through various defining life moments.  Plus, many of my 19 year old male friends do not face these circumstances.  But perhaps that just comes with living at home.  Their home, their rules, and my manhood is irrelevant.

            All in all, I feel American manhood is hard to define, as our country represents a melting pot of cultures—and each culture defines manhood in their own unique way.  Traditionally, as seen through previous blogs, the manhood process normally contains several defining stages—one of which marks elders viewing participants in a new light.  For some, this occurs in American society.  High school graduation, turning 18, etc. may be enough for views to change, and for one to definitively become a man in their household.  But for me, I feel these markers have not been enough.  Instead, I feel my manhood is mostly judged in the context of my peers—which has its good and bad components.  And while we often view extreme manhood rituals as odd and taboo, there is one unifying characteristic of these procedures: there is a beginning (as a boy) and an end (as a man).  So while the American manhood experience is often loosely defined, and differs on a familial basis, I might be well into my manhood years in a small tribal society like the Gebusi—where elder judgment plays a more established role.