The best conversations happen in my office.
For example, at the end of this past year, I had two boys sent to see me. There were some shenanigans in their classroom, and their teacher, a woman, thought it would be good for the boys to talk with a man about it.
It turned out the teacher was out of the room talking with another student. These two boys thought it an adventure to play a game where one boy does a wall-sit against the wall, and then another boy sits on his lap, and then another and another, and so on, until the weight of the subsequent boys causes the first boy to collapse (I guess this is a game kids play?)
Anyway, I asked the boys to tell me what happened, and they described it to me accurately and giggled the whole time. As I asked them what was wrong with what they did, I got some great answers (“We weren’t doing what we were supposed to be doing…,” “It was disrespectful to our class and teacher…,” and such,) but after ten minutes of going in circles, I wasn’t quite getting the depth of thought out of the boys that I was aiming for.
That’s when the Holy Spirit prompted me with a dash of inspiration.
The conversation went something like this:
Me: “Boys, who do you admire most in life? Who do you want to be like?”
Boy 1: “My dad. Totally my dad!”
Boy 2: “Agreed. My dad!”
(Pause and enjoy the beauty of those two answers for a moment….)
Me: “That’s great! I also admire your dads. Now, imagine for a moment your dads doing what you both just did. Imagine Dad 1 sitting on the lap of Dad 2, and a long line of other dads sitting on their laps until the whole group of dads collapses into a pile, giggling all the way….”
The look of horror on the faces of both boys was priceless.
Boy 1, squirming: “No, I don’t want to imagine that…..”
Boy 2, blushing: “Yea. That’s not a visual I like….”
Me: “Right! So ask yourself, why was it ok for you to do it, but you’re horrified to even imagine your dads doing it?”
Both boys, seeing things clearly now, answered in unison: “Because we’re boys, and they’re men.”
Me, for dramatic effect: “Because you’re boys, and they’re men….”
I had them right where I wanted them.
Me: “Now is the time, boys, to become men.”
Prolonged adolescence is a growing problem for the broader culture. Adulthood generally, and manhood specifically, is continually delayed longer and longer: the Affordable Care Act allows young adults to stay on their parents’ insurance plans until they are 26, even if they are married; the average age of a man’s first marriage in 2010 fell to 28 years of age, delayed over 5 years in the 50 years from 1960, when it was 22.8 years old; and young men at an alarming rate are choosing to stay in Mom and Dad’s house and play video games instead of going to college or joining the workforce.
At The Ambrose School, we want our boys to become the men God created them to be. Our school mission statement says that we seek to form “Christian leaders” who will “[transform] the church, the community, and the world,” and this cannot be done from Mom and Dad’s basement virtually through Call of Duty. Growing into a man requires much: we as parents and educators need to expect more from our boys than they expect from themselves; we need to challenge our boys to do hard things; we must demand they take personal responsibility for their mistakes, and resist every urge to rush to their aid when trouble finds them; we must require that they apologize and ask for forgiveness when they’ve wronged someone; and we need to continually call them to a higher standard in their conduct, in their speech, in their dress, and in their personal relationships.
Occasionally, I get to do all of this in a single, really fun conversation in my office.