Some elements of my narrative

I am not sure exactly how I will unfold this exploration - other than let it unfold as it arises.

I have been an abandoned child, a long lost child, I have been the apple of my grandmother's eye. I have been a distant father, a long lost father, and a totally engaged father. I have abandoned my children, I have sacrificed myself for my children. I have been a scared and lonely boy, I have been 'Major Thom on an ethereal tether from ground control'. I have hidden in fear and run from responsibility (of all sorts), I have reached beyond my capability and volunteered to face an unknown. In all of these experiences and more - fear is ever present, fear of not doing and/or being; fear of doing and being.

Certainly my early infant and childhood have a lot to do with the pervasiveness of fear. My parents separated (later divorced) by the time I was six months. From that time, until I was five years old, I lived in a series of foster homes, some were relatives - the others I don't really remember or know. This period shaped the concrete sense of abandonment. There were incidences of physical abuse that I remember - but they were 'conventional' in that, in the context of the times, many parents could have been more violent with their own children and remained within the bound of normality. What made it especially violent for me - was the experience of 'orphanhood' that came with the always temporary fostering arrangements. However, the physical attention - whether physically violent or loving only came from women. I can remember only a distant type of silent attention from men during this stage of my life. What men were present - were distant and disengaged. I was not their child, or relation.

This was during the 50s. I don't know if the men had served in the war or not. The story of my father, that I later learned from my mother - was one of severe violence - that he had tried to kill both my mother and me. That  he suffered from 'schizophrenia'. I eventually made contact with my father (after the death of my mother) and while there had been violence, which he freely admitted - the intentions to kill and mental conditions were my mother's narrative creation. I don't know how much those very early conditions affected my orientation of fear.

What I do know, is that I don't remember any sort of positive contact with a male figure during the first five years of my life.

Why Fear of Men?

This blog like many important changes in my life has arisen from a conversation with one of my children - in this case my oldest daughter who has recently made me into a grandfather. In particular, producing two wonderful grandsons.

The conversation related to my grandsons, to myself as a father, as a common-father-in-law, and as a grandfather. It was not just about the roles I play but about what also ties them together, the cultural shaping and grappling with being a male and with what being a man entails.

What does fear have to do with this? It's true, fear is a primal common denominator with all humans. But I think each sex and all genders have, and are in some aspects, unique 'flavours' and dimensions of fear that shape our other primal emotions. I think fear is a good candidate as an exploratory lens because we so willingly flee and deny its influence in constructing our personal narratives and the social-cultural constructions with which we also shape our identity.

The fear of other men and the fear related to becoming and being a man - what that entails - the expectations from myself, my social-cultural others, will be the theme, the strange attractor, for the explorations, musings, reflections and re-accounting of this strange journey through maleness, boyhood and manhood (all wrapped with dimensions of individual personhood).