Defining a Man

            Yesterday at the breakfast table of a small school, an interesting discussion took place. The rays of the eight o'clock March sun shone cheerily into the room, but the sunbeams revealed some dust motes of disagreement in the air.

           

        The topic was concerning whether or not it is permissible to refer to the nineteen to twenty-two-year-old guys that were present as "boys." The term "men" was much more agreeable to the males present in the room, but the young ladies found the word too daunting to use it in reference to their fellow classmates. The naturally resulting question was then, "What is a man?"

           

        A small portion of the conversation sounded something like this:

           

        "I don't know," a dark-haired girl said as she poked at her biscuits and gravy. "Like, I don't think of Craig as a man—he's a guy." This was in reference to my twenty-eight-year-old brother.

           

        "No, I'd say Craig is a man," I interjected.

           

        "In my mind," the same girl continued, "you're not really a man until you're married . . . or maybe fifty."

           

        Gerry, a bachelor, appeared a little alarmed by the girl's original statement, but his alarm melted into amused relief. He had turned fifty within the past few years.

           

        "You mean that you're going to marry a boy?" more than one of the gentlemen asked incredulously, the loudest of them being the girl's red-haired brother.

           

        "Well, no," the victim of the darts of ridicule replied, trapped.

           

        "What I say is that if he's old enough to die in Iraq, then he's a man," Gerry stated, mercifully saving the girl from further persecution, "even though some people don't act like men until they're older."

           

        This more or less ended the current debate, besides some questions that another young lady asked the young gentlemen. She wanted to know what term they would use to refer to their female classmates. "Girls," was the answer, and after a little more warm discourse and repartee, the meal was closed and people retreated to their duties, although everyone wasn't wholly satisfied.

           

        "The thing is," one girl told me later as we discussed the subject of the breakfast table, "I don't think of the term 'boys' as a bad thing. When I call them 'boys,' I'm not thinking of little boys like James and Jonathon. I'm just using it to refer to their gender; it's not as weird as calling them 'men.'"

           

        "It's a more endearing term," I agreed.

           

        This debatable topic, brought forth in the morning, offered me much hearty nourishment for the cranium during the afternoon, as it caused me to ponder what a man really is. Not what he is in body (you most certainly are not a man just because you've had your first shave!), but what he is in spirit. Is it definable?

           

        When I think of a boy, I think of jokes, laughter, antics, recklessness, and mischief. When I think of a man, I think of responsibility, maturity, passionate determination, a sense of duty, and something bordering solemnity. However, when I consider the men that I know, I realize that many of them have what I would call the boyish spirit at times. Yet these men are unquestionably men in the fullest sense of the word. But how is one to distinguish between boys and men who sometimes act like boys?

           

        In answer to this question, I have formed a rough theory. To begin with, I think that most people would agree that a man is a man when he stops being a boy. What I would like to base my theory on is that being a boy is not so much as an inherent characteristic as it is a condition, or even a role, if you will. Technically speaking, in the world's eyes a boy becomes a man when he first puts aside the boy and takes on the sense of responsibility pertaining to a man. This may happen at various ages, usually around the age of eighteen, though it could be earlier or even later.  However, if being a boy is a condition, the role is very easily picked up again, so the "man" may become a "boy" once more, and may remain so for quite some time. Is one expected to call the "boy" a "man" when he usually doesn't behave like one?

 

        Not that there's anything shameful in the delightful condition of being a boy, although it usually doesn't encourage volumes of respect, but how is one to know when a male individual is truly a man? In my opinion, it's not when he finally "puts away the boy" altogether. No, the world would be a grim place if no boys remained in it. Instead, I believe that a boy truly becomes a man when he learns exactly how and when to lay aside the boy and put on the man. At the same time, he must know when it is and isn't appropriate to resume the part of the boy. It is true, some men take on the part more frequently than others, but so long as they can relinquish the role at the instant it's called for, they are nevertheless still men.

 

I think that my theory easily explains why it seems so natural for the girls to call the Bible school men "boys." It is merely what the young ladies frequently see. However, on my part, if I were to glance across the aisle during a fervent prayer meeting, I doubt that the boys would even be present. The men probably would have stepped in to replace them. If this is the case, the often boyish men can no longer truthfully be christened as "boys." On the other hand, it is not wholly inaccurate to lightly reference them as such, as long as their deeper state is kept in mind. They may act like boys, yes, but the real question is if they know how to stop acting like boys. And that, I think, is what truly defines a man.

 

P.S. I realize this was a strange topic and quite out of the blue, considering how long it's been since I've posted anything. But I'm interested: do you agree or disagree? I'm not presenting my opinion as Gospel truth by any means, but I tried to formulate a possible solution that might satisfy both parties. Feel free to leave comments. However, if you wish to tear me to shreds, I would prefer that you left your violent opinions on your own blog. :)