The Better Measure of Parenting
The afternoon light faded, casting familiar shadows around us. My son, usually buzzing with energy, sat still, brow furrowed. Homework sprawled untouched, the TV’s murmur serves as a backdrop to whatever was happening internally for him.
Instead of the usual "how was your day?", I opted for a gentler approach. "Como te sientes, papi" I asked, my voice softer.
He opened up slowly, words sort of tumbling out like leaves in a fall breeze. He was beefin’ with a friend and he worries about fitting in, a deep desire to be seen for who he was – not just energetic, funny, but also sensitive, emotional.
These were the qualities, I realized, often pushed aside for boys. "Manly", society seemed to whisper, meant ignoring feelings, being tough. Yet, in my son, these "unmanly" traits were more apparent, the core of his unique personality.
Instead of dismissing his emotions as "weakness," I met them with kindness, or at least I tried to. I guess I was also learning to shed a sort of masculinity that overshadowed these emotions. A simple, "That sounds tough, buddy," resonated deeper than any lecture on mastering your emotions. Gentleness, not the absence of strength, but a space for his vulnerability, became the bridge we built that day.
Patience joined the mix. Rather than fixing things or offering unsolicited advice, I listened. Carefully. Not as parent and child, but as two people trying to make sense of the challenges of the day.
Something shifted. His initial anger, a simmering storm, started to fade. He didn't need a tough-guy mask. And in that "being," he discovered a strength beyond aggression, a strength rooted in authenticity.
bell hooks reminds us: “Anger is the best hiding place for anybody seeking to conceal pain or anguish of spirit.”
This, I believe, is the true antidote to the anger bottled up in many men. Not hiding emotions, but acknowledging, understanding, and expressing them healthily. Not forcing a rigid masculinity, but nurturing the full spectrum of emotions that make us human.
Christians often deeply struggle with this. The theology of most often lacks the depth and breadth to involve their emotions in any journey to understand themselves and God. We don’t often talk about the layers that live beneath our anger. We tend to often dismiss it as a lack of restraint or an indicator of immaturity. We fail to have the curiosity necessary discover that often times beneath anger is sadness. Sad for what? Well, a myriad of things. But mostly that we don’t get to have the full scope of our emotions.
Choosing gentleness and patience and kindness as the ways to measure whether you’re doing this parenting thing well is not always easy. Yet these are the desperately overlooked qualities of good parenting. Societal scripts whisper the opposite: measure, control at all cost over vulnerability. But then I remember the quiet power of that conversation with my son, the way it disarmed the anger before it had a chance to take root.
This isn't about raising "soft" boys; it's about raising whole men, men comfortable in their own skin, able to build healthy relationships, and contribute positively. Men who don't need to hide behind anger, but lead with their full humanity.
It’s a long journey. Yet, we should be keen to remember the power of kindness, the strength in gentleness, and the wisdom in patience. Let's create a world where boys can be their authentic selves, where vulnerability isn't a weakness but a source of strength, and where anger doesn't have to be the predetermined response.
For in doing so, we might just raise a generation of men who break free from the shackles of the damaging version of manhood.




