It’s Not Just a Guy Thing: Man-Spreading and Other Annoyances

 In a political climate obsessed with language, terms like “toxic masculinity” can be useful in bringing attention to otherwise taboo topics. But for me (and I am not alone), it brings to mind a group of men sitting in a circle, Bud Light clutched in hands like trophies, knees obnoxiously far apart. They are blabbering over each other about the last “girl” they “tapped,” and animated clouds of thought hover over their heads, framing women with whitened teeth in skimpy, patriotic bikinis at some car wash (I’m not sure why it’s a car wash-- it just is). The twang of a country singer making an ode to cold beer and the joy of hunting, along with the hum of engines revving, completes the scene. Have I mentioned I’m from Texas?

Although useful, the term “toxic masculinity” reinforces already sturdy gendered borders. Last year, my history class watched “The Mask You Live In,” a documentary about toxic masculinity. With the viewing came an experience that exposed my own guilty obsession with gendered stereotypes. A boy in my class whom I had formerly assessed as the epitome of toxicity made a comment that evoked a thought in some pride-ruining territory. Maybe myself and other young women should examine the word toxic, acknowledging how it applies to all humans, not just our obnoxious male classmates whom we quickly dismiss as irrelevant. 

In contrast to my assumptions on the topic, the movie was a thoughtful and intriguing look at the subject, highlighting the damaging standards to which most males feel pressured to conform. When discussing the movie, a boy in my class whom I avidly choose to ignore made a comment alluding to the excessive amount we talk about the female experience of the double standard, while ignoring the other end of the spectrum. 

This comment initially irked me. Why should he be allowed to say that, given that humorously ignorant comments alone buy him charisma? Why do women feel pressure to be smart but not a smart-ass, studious but not type A, funny but not obnoxious, pretty but not superficial, nice but not fake, poised but not soft-spoken, confident but not intimidating, while this guy merely has to conform to the shockingly low standards of maleness? It just wasn’t fair. My impulse was an eye roll to what I felt was an undeserved claim to adversity. 

My reaction exposed me to my own tunnel vision-- my attention to language inspired me to think more about the stereotypes we perpetuate with language. In our attempt to blur the boundaries of gender, the mental associations we have of terms like “toxic masculinity” might be doing just the opposite. 

“Toxic femininity,” although seemingly a creative name for a stripper, or a twist on “femme fatale,” is arguably just as valid a part of our gendered narrative. But I would argue that “toxic” is an applicable prefix to any human experience.

Since forever, much of our behavior, although largey dictated by the construction of gender, has also reflected instincts which transcend sex. Consider an instinct, usually rendered as “toxic,” that happens to be universal: competition. In my storybook image of the ancient world, a short person is charging barefoot, spear in hand, at his desired meal. Hunger and adrenaline drive him or her (or they?) to defeat the competition. 

The bison he is chasing is not too different from the jobs we apply for, the romantic partners we pursue, the grade we think we deserve. We might pursue such goals in the form of a prompt punch to the face, a humiliating rumor, or, if you want to be classy, some good old-fashioned white collar crime. 

“Toxic,” comes in all shapes and sizes, and doesn’t discriminate. So yes, let’s follow advice from the New York Times and raise boys and girls the same way, but let’s also just listen to each other and focus on being good people. This simplified but compassionate goal might demand the separation of negative terms from gendered words.