The Performance of Manhood
I think we all, at one point or another, have witnessed “the performance of manhood,” that situation where a brother acts a certain way, or takes on a certain role/persona-to show how much of a man he is. Black manhood, in particular, evokes a unique performance. Allow me to share an encounter with Black manhood that I experienced today, during a pick-up basketball game.
A pick-up basketball game is an arena where testosterone reigns and the performance of manhood plays itself out, through passionate and often violent competition. This was the context for my confrontation with the brother, on whom i was playing defense. As he went for a lay-up, I blocked his shot. As a matter of fact, I pinned his shot against the backboard, screaming victoriously as I landed and the basketball ricocheted against the glass. At this moment, I stripped my opponent of his manhood. This was evident as all of the other men in the gym winced, and turned their heads away in disgust. You would expect a similar reaction, if I had kicked him in the groin, or slapped his mother in the face. I can see how such a humiliating experience could cause a brother to react as if his very status as a man was at stake.
Act one of his performance started with a direct assertion of manhood: “Nigga, you need to stop talking shit, you must not know bout me!” he said, putting all the bass in his voice he could muster, “I will put you in the ground, nigga!” Clearly this man was not going to kill me, rather, he was reacting to a situation that put his manhood into question, by challenging mine. He was saying, very clearly, as he pounded his chest with a clenched fist, yes you blocked my shot, but I’m still a man and I will prove that by fighting you (or, indeed, killing you) if need be. Luckily, I’ve been in this situation before, and I did not instigate him further. Not out of fear (here I am now, defending my manhood) but out of respect. I probably shouldn’t have yelled, “Get that shit out!” as I sent his shot off the backboard. That was my role in the performance. Asserting my own manhood by stepping on his, and by exhibiting my superior physical capabilities and rubbing it in his face. The performance did not end in tragedy. After we won the game, the brother approached me and explained that he was just talking shit: an integral part of any serious competition between Black men. He dapped me up and it was over. It’s a pity that all confrontations between Black men don’t end this way.
So many brothers in our communities take part in this performance and allow their perceptions of what it is to be a “real Black man,” drive sexist, aggressive, often violent behavior. Until we demystify this “performance of manhood” and present it to young Black men for what it is-a performance, we cannot begin to deconstruct these hostile, patriarchal and racist ideologies. Ideologies which would have us believe that we need fight someone who blocks our shot in a basketball game, or steps on our shoes in the club. Ideologies which tell us that the number of women we’ve slept with, or the amount of blunts we can smoke, is what makes us “real men.” We need to start giving credit where credit is due. How much we support our families, how much we respect our brothers and sisters, how many books we’ve read or languages we speak; these are the things, which need to define what it is to be a real Black man. But this is easier said than done. How do we go about making this a reality?
Published on November 16, 2006 at 1:17 am.
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Filed under ridiculousness, men's issues, black image.
