CHAPTER 4: Why can’t Men Care for Children?: The Development of a Male Nurturer

For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a parent. I was the kid who wanted to play with dolls, who stood in the kitchen watching the women cook, who tried to learn to sew (although I must admit I never quite got the knack of sewing), or who played with a bunch of girls. I guess in many ways I fit the stereotypical mode of what “hetero-hyper” Americans would call a sissy. The most important thing about my life’s journey is I knew I would develop into a nurturing human being. Growing up in the Deep South, I developed an immense love for what we called in my youth “old people.” Of course, today such a term is considered offensive versus a term of endearment, but in my youth, the term was embraced in my world as a sign of reverence. I spent a tremendous amount of time helping my greatgrandparents around the house, running errands for their friends, listening to their stories late into the night, or going to funerals.