How do we raise boys to be good men in these garbage times?

I have a video of my son with his hands on his hips shouting through his pouting lips - “I said MY body MY choice!”. You can hear my husband and I giggling. “My BODY my CHOICE” he says again, furiously, his baby lisp dropping the end of choice so it sounds like choy.

He had been told he needed to have a bath. He was proudly declaring his body autonomy at us - NO! This body would not have a bath.

I remember my husband and I laughing about it all those years ago. I didn’t know it was also a silent prayer. May the challenges we face raising children that understand consent and body safety be as simple as - OK, you don’t have to get a hair cut because it is your body and it is your choice. But you do have to wash!

Five years later, (after writing earnestly and often about how I will raise my children to rally against the patriarchy) I know it’s not so easy.

He saw it before I did.

“Your body, my choice,” written on the wall of a public bathroom, tucked just behind the grimy fold out change table.

“They wrote it wrong,” he shouted. His hair is much longer now but he’s still just as stubborn as he was five years ago.

“Mum! They vandalised and they wrote it wrong!”

Over the last six months, I’ve had conversation after conversation with parents aghast at the onslaught of misogyny their children are facing on and offline.

Right wing lobby groups and evangelical churches have run a successful campaign convincing parents of tweens and teens that their biggest concern is ‘gays’ (and that the best defence against this threat is intimidating librarians and tithing 10%).

These groups are good at enforcing gender roles. They suck grandparents and aunts and uncles and mums and dads into delusional rabbit holes where there is a litter tray in every school toilet and a paedophile in every library.

Media literate parents are trying to raise their kids in a world where the president of the United States is a rapist and on their phones they see images of ‘real men’ spitting venom and fear onto volunteers in rainbow tee-shirts. They’re also trying to help family who have fallen down those rabbit holes.

Teachers are also raising the alarm. Last year, the leader of the UK’s largest education union, called for an independent inquiry into the rise of sexism and misogyny among boys and young men.

A 2023 survey found that 16- to 29-year-olds hold more negative views about feminism than men over 60.

Over the years of being someone who writes on the internet I’ve been called everything from feral slut to frigid snowflake. But in this past 12 months, the rage and hate against women - simply for existing… is some of the worst I’ve ever seen.

Related: “You shouldn’t be able to have any say girl”

I have said this before but it feels more important than ever to say that these comments are not a warning that rampant misogyny is coming. They show that toxic masculinity is already in households, sitting at the head of the table, screaming for more food. The canaries are dead. The alarm has been blaring. The house is on fire.

Conversations with the kids in our lives about this cannot be put on hold.

So, how do you go about teaching your boys that the toxic masculinity that hurts them and helps them needs to be acknowledged and challenged?

I am lucky that my boys are growing up with men around them who never make excuses for violence. I am unlucky - and so are they - that despite this, they will also be exposed to so many men who will not challenge it, who will embrace excuses. Men in power. Men who have been rewarded for their cruelty. Men whose lack of empathy is applauded.

I can see my eldest son working hard to reject the culture that runs unabated around him and his peers. This culture that glorifies men who deserve no glory and provides redemption to men who have shown no remorse.

He finds respite in many places - in the ocean when he’s surfing with his aunty, his grandfather, with men who care for the environment, at Māori club where he has endless examples of what it means to be grounded and uplifted in your culture, in lessons with his music teachers who show him how freeing a passion for the arts can be. He finds encouragement to be his best self in these places.

I know that my husband and I are relying on so many people to help us raise our boys to be good men. This most important work of growing in the face of destruction is a group assignment. The village isn’t just for babies.

We are all committed. Not just to our own tamariki, but to all of the tamariki around us. We are trying to raise our boys to rise above and reject a culture that will reward them because of the colour of their skin (regardless of their race) and their presenting gender. We know other parents are trying to do this too.

We do it for the children of course, but also for women and those who are at risk of abuse at the hands of men who refuse to learn and who benefit from patriarchal structures.

So, if it’s up to us - how do we do it?

Let’s start that kōrero.

Here are a few tips I have, and I’m desperate to hear yours so I can adopt them in our whare! Comment below or send me an email by replying to this and I’ll try to collate everyone’s tips.

Understand the scale of the problem

In my reading list - How do we raise gentle, kind boys? I share some books for parents on toxic masculinity. I have found that a better understanding of what I’m up against helps me to stay really committed to the kaupapa.

At a time where our attention is pulled in so many different ways - it’s hard to focus on any one issue. I sometimes think - ‘I’m a feminist, their dad is a good gentle man, we work hard to be good parents, this is our life’s work, therefore we’re probably all good’. But I don’t want to be complacent like that.

I’ve found expanding my knowledge, reading from people who understand ‘the manosphere’ and the changing landscape is really helpful for me to keep this mahi front and centre in our home.

‘That doesn’t sound right does it?’

Non-judgemental and open answers to questions that scare the heck out of me help a lot. A friend told me once that their teen had told them that ‘‘80% of rape cases are made up’. I think I said something in response like ‘HOLYFCKINSHIT WHAT DID YOU SAY?!’.

She told me that she said to her teen ‘that doesn’t sound right does it?’. Together they searched the internet (emphasis on together) for the reliable statistics. They found not only the real percentage (4%-5%) but also had a discussion on how under-reported sexual assault is.

She found that this approach encourages fact checking, encourages discussions and encourages kids to be more suspicious of what they read or hear online and offline. Also works for your parents too I reckon?

Don’t preach it, live it

My husband and I know that fortunately or unfortunately we are the kids’ main role models. They see how we interact as a couple and we know that they will be mirroring us in their interactions with their friends, classmates, and in the future - colleagues and partners.

So we do things like ‘fake apologies’ where if we have had an argument in front of the kids we will come back together and apologise in front of them. We hold each other accountable for our actions. We have standards and we forgive each ot her. We remember that they’re watching us.

Similarly, even if it’s uncomfortable, we say things like ‘we don’t use language like that in this house’ or ‘that is sexist and it’s not funny’ in the company of others. After all, if we aren’t brave enough to confront misogyny how can we expect our kids to?

Hit pause

Parenting is relentless. Luckily for us, the learning opportunities for our kids are relentless too! Joy!

Try the ‘hit pause’ option. If you’re watching a show together or listening to music and there is gendered violence or misogyny featured - hit pause and talk about it. Ask your kids open-ended questions and don’t judge their answers. Even if they say things like ‘Did they say things like that in the 1900s?’.

So, what do you do at home? What works for you and your whānau - I would love to hear from you. I hope to be able to create a resource we can all share.

I can’t do Emily Writes Weekly without your support. So please consider becoming a paid subscriber. Thank you so so much.