The following post was first published in The Daily Telegraph 7/12/15 and online at RendezView.
UK man Aaron Gillies recently tweeted a list of all the reasons his wife cries, including “She was hung-over and saw a picture of a piglet.” The internet exploded, with others then sharing stories of females and their sometimes unfathomable “feels”. Tweets from women included “I cried over a sea otter” and “I cried last night because I love Christmas spirit so much.”
But my favourite tweet? “My dad cried at the end of Shrek because ‘it’s just so beautiful.’” In among the sea of admissions of female emotion was the recognition of male sensitivity. How rare — and how needed.
Modern views on masculinity would have us believe blokes must be stiff upper-lipped and simply “man up” when overwhelmed. They are given permission to cry perhaps only when their children are born, or when a loved one dies.
Yet our reluctance to let males shed tears is relatively new, says Tom Lutz, a University of California, Riverside Professor and author of “Crying: A natural and Cultural History of Tears.” He traces this trend to the late 19th century, when factory workers — mostly men — were discouraged from indulging in emotion lest it interfere with their productivity.
In the early 19th century, American politicians were constantly wiping their eyes. Beloved President Abraham Lincoln wept during his celebrated debates about slavery with senator Stephen Douglas, and Douglas wept back. Far from being perceived as a sign of weakness, crying whilst speaking was considered a sign of integrity and the mark of a skilled orator.
In fact the ancient Greeks considered shedding a tear one of the greatest signs of true manliness. Hero Odysseus breaks down in tears regularly throughout his quest, once because he is so moved by a song. When he is reunited with his son Telemakhos we are told, “Salt tears rose from the wells of longing in both men, and cries burst forth from both as keen and fluttering as those of the great taloned hawk whose nestlings farmers take before they can fly. So helplessly they cried, pouring out tears.”
When my male presenters and I work with teen boys debunking myths around masculinity the myth that real men don’t cry is the one that has young lads hooked. They sit in awe listening to stories about other men they admire who have cried (from their own teachers to celebrities and sports stars).
Fifteen-year-old Jason summed up the feelings of many of his mates in his reflections on the workshop: “ I used to get so embarrassed when I cried and would quickly wipe my tears away and hide my face. I am going to try to just let the tears flow next time. I’m not a robot and that’s OK.”
It is more than OK. Too many men withdraw into their careers, try to drown their sorrows with alcohol, and punch rather than pause and deal with their swirling emotions. Perhaps it’s time more blokes embraced hashtags that give them permission to let their tears flow too.