Masculinity, Strength and Vulnerabilty
With Kamala Harris's official acceptance of the Democratic nomination there's been a lot of focus lately on women in leadership. There is an exiting, energized intergenerational, cross-party cohort of women who are celebrating the normalization of women in power. What seemed ground breaking eight years ago--a woman nominee of a major political party, gasp!--seems less novel now and less of a hurdle for an aspiring female candidate.
Where gender is concerned, the focus has been on the public response to the idea of a woman president, and most conversations are framed against that premise - either pro or anti, feminist or misogynist. It's given us a great context against which we can examine our biases and stereotypes.
So, when I got the request from a reader to share my "thoughts on the two very divergent types of masculinity currently being demonstrated (and modeled) by our two main political parties," I had to refocus my lens. With all the talk about how a woman might lead the most powerful nation in the world, we don't really talk about how men have been doing it. Patriarchy - it's our default system, so it's not as easily scrutinized; like wallpaper in the background we just take it for fact.
As I refocused, I decided to examine masculinity through the concept of strength. It’s not a stretch - right? Stereotypically masculinity is associated with strength. I could call up research to back this, but for sake of argument, let's just take that as a fact. And there's been a lot of talk from both parties talk about projecting strength on the world stage. But what does strength really mean?
Here's where I see a distinction in the representation of masculinity and the definition of strength between the two parties. On one side we have a Trumpian version of strength which denies any weakness. This façade comes with a barrage of superlatives (albeit unimaginative ones like "really, really; completely, totally perfect, beautiful") describing his decisions and power. There's a hard-lined "my way or the highway" dogmatic insistence on a rigid version of strength that is coming out of the MAGA right. And there's an active derision of anything that smacks of weakness or sensitivity. This definition of strength is also quite gendered in that discourse - just ask any of the women out there with a cat and no kids.
On the more liberal Democrat side, we are seeing examples of men who are less inclined to lead with absolutes, and more open to a supportive and even nurturing stance. In Doug Emhoff, we got a glimpse of a successful attorney, husband and father who lives to support his family. In Tim Walz, we see a picture of a loving, affable coach who champions his kids, his teams and his female running mate with stereotypically male sports metaphors and who tears up when he catches a glimpse of his son overcome with pride and love for his dad. Barak Obama constantly talks about how his wife and two daughters are vital to keeping him grounded and opening the aperture of his perspective. What I see in these examples is vulnerability. The willingness to open themselves up to other people's perspectives, to take chances from a place of caring and love, and an acknowledgement that one person can't do it alone - that we need each other to stay strong.
On one side - vulnerability is a weakness that makes you less powerful. Something to be rooted out, derided, shamed. On the other side, vulnerability is actually what makes you strong. It demonstrates a confidence in one's position that allows for connection, examination and growth.
Brené Brown said, " Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. Truth and courage aren’t always comfortable, but they’re never weakness.”
In this time of social unrest and political disagreement, how are you leading? When the stakes are high, what do the people in your family, community and teams need to see from you? Which version of strength do you want to lead from?