A man, for the first time, steps into the centre of our circle. I can feel my chest tighten. This is the kind of man I would have easily dismissed before I came to know A Band of Brothers, the charity I currently head, dedicated to helping men who are caught in the criminal justice system. A part of me still desires to dismiss him. Within moments, my mind labels him with various stereotypes: ‘Arrogant’, ‘Ignorant’, ‘Thinks a ‘real man’ should look and act just like him’, ‘Happy to judge others but doesn’t own his own shortcomings’, ‘Typical white male’.
It’s tempting to write off men we dislike as toxic, irredeemable, or beyond redemption. Both men and women often find enough evidence to do so, basking in a warm glow of self-righteousness. It seems easier to ostracize them, banish them from our hearts and our communities.
Granted, in some instances, this could be the safest course of action. However, at A Band of Brothers, we firmly believe that magic can occur when a man is willing to be accountable for his actions and is supported by his community. When you ask me to describe what healthy masculinity looks like, I would say it’s exactly that. It’s a man who has been arrogant, ignorant, selfish, and angry – a man who has made mistakes, just like any other human, mustering the courage to step into the circle and say: ‘I need help’. It’s other men holding him accountable without ever shutting their hearts to him.
Personally, I’ve had to deal with the lifelong repercussions of a violent mother, compounded by terrible experiences in school. I’ve seen the inside of a prison cell. I’ve grown up breathing in an atmosphere infused with racism and classism. I’m proud of my journey so far, yet I still work towards improving myself every single day – making mistakes and doing my best to learn from them. For so long, I was in a victim’s mindset, which blinded me to the impacts of my actions on others. Now, I have compassion for all the men I meet who are so engrossed in their own wounds that they cannot see the wounds of others.
Suicide is the leading cause of death among men under 50 in the UK – the tip of the iceberg of a much larger men’s mental health crisis. The young men who come to us are often torn between competing pressures: an old narrative of needing to be tough, to earn money, to dominate, and a newer one about needing to be gentle, to value more than just money, to stop dominating, and to reject the old values.
Compassion and accountability – both are needed. Compassion comes first. I am still moved by the words of a young man who said: “No one had ever actually asked me why I was angry”. He had never been in a position where he was educated about the difference between healthy anger, a natural and essential human emotion, and unhealthy anger, leading to violence against oneself or others. He wasn’t taught to distinguish depression, a low mood that detaches you from life, from grief, a vital expression of love.
As for the ‘typical white male’ who stepped into our circle, within an hour, I had been privy to more details about his darker side and bad behaviour than his own family had ever known. I saw a man bravely owning and transforming his past misgivings in the crucible of a clear-eyed, no-nonsense, grief-soaked, compassion-centered community. I could see what a gift he was, to all of us, and to me.
A Band of Brothers is a charity that provides a nurturing space for the mentoring of young men who have been in the criminal justice system by trained older men from their community. This often happens in the context of an intensive rite of passage journey.
