An Open Letter to My Son
Who has left home for the Marine Corps
Dear O,
You have always done things fiercely and with bravado. As a baby, finishing your food, you would proudly proclaim, All done! and sweep your chubby arms across the highchair tray, knocking everything onto the floor. You were obsessed with reading stories before bed, demanding one after another. Unsurprisingly, you began reading at an early age. Every Sunday, I would take you to the public library for storytime and to load up on picture books. Once you learned to talk, you never stopped asking questions. To and from the library, you would incessantly ask What’s that? What’s that? as we drove past bus stops, restaurants, and road construction signs.
The older you got, the faster you wanted to grow up. You read books well-above grade level, and always pushed to watch more mature television and movies. You’ve spent most of your childhood striving for adulthood while I tried to dissuade you from growing up too quickly. I never wanted to stop you from becoming an adult, just to slow it down a bit, draw out your childhood as much as I could. It’s trite, but it's true: I blinked my eyes, and you became an adult. And now you are eager for what’s next.
In many Western countries, this is a inevitable and necessary passage into young adulthood. At some point in one’s life, it is common to leave one’s tribe and seek one’s own way. Some choose college; others enter the workforce. For centuries, Indigenous Americans sent their adolescents out into the wilderness as a rite of passage. In traditional Lakota culture the Hanblecheyapi (“crying for a vision”) is one of seven main rites, and was undertaken by an individual with a shaman’s help and guidance. The young adult would go off to pray, communicate with spirits, and attempt to gain knowledge, strength, and understanding. I see that in your own way, you are crying for a new vision of yourself, and you believe that the Marines will provide the necessary knowledge, strength, and understanding to live a life of purpose.
When you told me that you intended to enlist in the Marine Corps, I regret that I reacted fearfully. You wanted me to be excited for you and I wasn’t initially. This is a surreal time in America and to conscientiously volunteer to serve our current leadership is terrifying. Our president is an erratic and racist megalomaniac. I fear for your safety as any parent would, but this feels more uncertain and dangerous.
You have chosen to serve your country, and I am incredibly proud. I wouldn’t have chosen this path for you, but that doesn’t diminish my parental pride. I know you will be a successful Marine, even if your definition of success doesn’t match my own. I know you will be an accomplished young man, despite having different views of success and masculinity. I support you in any endeavor that makes you happy and fulfills you. It is only natural that I am fearful and sad. You are my first and oldest son. Your entire life has been marked by firsts. When you got sick, we triaged as best as we could given our limited experience as parents. When you stood up and walked, we cheered. When you wouldn’t eat, we panicked. When you fell, we scooped you up and resolved to never let you hurt yourself again. But you have always been stubborn, you have always pushed to do more. You never wanted to sit on the sidelines. You’ve wanted to be grown since you were eight years old. And now, I’m hugging a young man taller than me, saying goodbye in the parking lot before you board your bus.
I had a hard time releasing you from my hug. I didn’t want to let go. Honestly, I’ve had a hard time letting you grow up these last ten years. A big part of me doesn’t want to admit that you are 18, you make your own decisions, and that you have chosen to serve your country. I know that you want to make a difference; put your mark on this world; live a life of meaning. I understand that you’ve chosen the Marine Corps because you want a drastic personal transformation. You want to cease being who you have been, and become someone new; someone harder and stronger than your younger self; elite. It is very hard for me to let you go because I helped create you, and have loved and guided your development. Saying goodbye, I held onto you tightly, trying to squeeze you back into the little one who squealed when seeing his kite, “wagging in the wind.”
My arms refused to let you go. I realize that I am being melodramatic. I can’t help myself; you are my first born and this is the way I’ve always been with you. I’ve always parented you fiercely, perhaps too hard. I overcompensated from my laissez-faire, sometimes neglectful, father. I’ve been ever present in your life, even when you wanted your independence. I fought you more than I wanted. Sitting now in your empty bedroom, all I can do is tally up my regrets, trying to absolve my guilt as I play a nostalgic reel of your childhood memories. You will go out into the world to make your own memories without us. This is a common occurrence, and still I am sad.
I remind myself that I could never hold onto you forever. Many children leave their childhood homes to establish themselves elsewhere. Your wanderlust is not only natural, but in some ways, parallels the lives of your forebears. Your ancestors emigrated from Europe during WWII, leaving friends and family behind to start anew. Leaving one’s homeland requires a serious commitment and a strong work ethic. Your great-grandparents, these first generation German immigrants instilled in my father (and thus, in me) the pride of working hard. The Marine’s core values are honor, courage, and commitment. They are the standard that guides every Marine’s actions and decisions, and will now guide you as you join this Semper Fidelis fraternity.
I’m hesitantly optimistic for you as a Marine. The Marines offer the rite of passage into manhood that you are seeking. Unfortunately, based on their structure and personnel needs, the Marines need only one version of masculinity: traditional warrior masculinity. This is not the brand of masculinity I raised you with, and I worry its toxicity will cause irreparable harm to your mental health. I believe in honor, courage, and commitment as important values. I try to live my life ductus exemplo and with integrity. I do not, however, believe that one must be broken and rebuilt within any value system. I have always struggled with hypermasculinity. I’ve seen it mutate quickly into misogyny and homophobia. As a child, I learned “boys will be boys.” In my adolescence and young adult years, I saw dangerous, outrageous behavior excused as male foibles. As a father, I tried to model for you a different type of masculinity, one that favors nonviolence over aggression, kindness over callousness, sensitivity as strength. Now that you are headed to bootcamp, I fear the messaging, “Marines will be Marines”, will harden all of the best parts of you in order to turn you into a warrior.
As a 45-year-old man, I still work to unlearn the hegemonic masculinity I was raised with. Every day, I work to emphasize healthy expressions of my manhood that counter harmful these stereotypes. So, even though you have left home and are on your journey to remake yourself, allow me to offer some unsolicited, parental life advice.
Don’t lose yourself in the Marines
You have left to seek your own personal growth and self-discovery. I hope you find what you are looking for in the Marines. The Marine Corps promise to turn you into a “real man.” While the slogan: The Marine Corps Builds Men may not still be in use today, the ethos of hypermasculinization remains. The belief that violence is manly and danger is exciting, is part of the socialization process to become a Marine. From Day 1 of bootcamp to your final test, The Marine Crucible, you will be expected to fall in line and strip away your civilian mentality. You will be expected to foster a strong sense of collective identity and purpose to be a cohesive fighting force. I understand this necessity; however, I don’t believe that you must erase your individuality in order to be a successful Marine. I encourage you to see the value of your individuality within the collective of the Corps. I will love whoever you become, but I want you to hear me when I say that I love you, now, just as you are. You are loyal and generous and intelligent and compassionate. You have a fighting spirit and strong work ethic.
Be wary of groupthink; don’t silence your moral judgment because of pressures from the in-group. Remember that every person, no matter their rank, gender, race, or ethnicity, has a different vantage point. It is important to listen to different opinions and lived experiences, so that you can synthesize multiple perspectives and make equitable decisions. I realize that you will not be in any sort of position to question the orders of your commanding officers, but do not silence your intuition. If something feels wrong because it goes against your values, pay attention to that feeling. Find ways to respectfully and strategically question authority. As you work to rebuild yourself, don’t lose that which is immutably you. I love who you are right now.
Challenge toxic masculinity
From Homer’s The Iliad, depicting Achilles’ heroic masculinity, to Ernest Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea, celebrating Santiago’s rugged individualism and endurance, masculinity that encourages physical strength, aggression, and competition have been ever-present in literature and society. These traits are always advertised as masculine ideals, which are then used to legitimize men's dominant position in society and justify the subordination of others. I’ve struggled with this my entire life. I was raised to conform to these masculine norms, especially in athletics. Being a heterosexual “Playboy” or “Jock” was expected. Winning at all costs, especially at the expense of others, was drilled into me from a young age. This has not served me well in my life. I have spent decades unlearning and challenging this toxic masculinity, which pervaded my childhood: binary archetypes where men are strong heroes and women are weak seductresses. Men are capable of saving the world on their own, and their women will be there to welcome them home when they return. I have spent my entire life unlearning this harmful and misogynistic propaganda.
Please know that there are other, healthier masculine identities. For every isolated, rugged Hemingway, there is a Walt Whitman, celebrating the beauty and vulnerability of the male body. Achilles may seem like the model of all men, but I believe more young men identify with David, from James Baldwin's Giovanni's Room. Male identity is complex; many are looking to figure out who they are, and the route is often messy. Happiness doesn’t automatically come from following societal norms, especially when those expectations contradict the parts of yourself that are already great. Always question such strict binaries. You are expected to follow Semper Fidelis, but don’t forget to always be faithful to yourself, and never let others make you feel less than.
Heart is more important than honorifics
Seeking credentials is a necessary part of society. Degrees, certifications, and accomplishments are very much rewarded. These attestation are used to signify one’s qualifications, skills, or knowledge in specific areas. They are the currency we all use. However, as much as titles may seem to be your ticket to a successful and fulfilling life, kindness is the most important quality you can exhibit. True kindness is more than just being polite; it's about acting with genuine care and concern for the well-being of others. People will remember more about how you treat them than what letters string after your name or how many medals are pinned to your chest. I am speaking from someone who has dedicated his life in the act of service to others. Compassion is not a weakness; it is a virtue to be cultivated in oneself and amplified in the world. We all seek validation in life, but don’t narrowly focus on credentials to define your worth. Don’t let a never-ending search for validation cloud your moral compass and stymie your moral progress. Employers may require credentials, but never let your resume define who you are. It’s your choices, your actions, that make you who you are. And the more you choose the inherent goodness of humanity, despite our collective wrongs, the more goodness you will see. Amplify that goodness. In the end, your heart will be of more value to society than any honorifics you receive.
Stay humble
We come nearest to the great when we are great in humility.
Rabindranath Tagore
I know for certain that you will be successful. You have always been curious, constantly seeking to learn. You have a drive to be ever-better, and I’m proud of your work ethic. Humility is an important skill that I try to model every day. I’m grateful for my years of experience, and all that I have learned. Still, I work to keep my ego in check. Having intellectual humility has helped me continue to serve my students. No matter how high up the Marine ladder you climb, stay humble. No one is perfect. Even Marines make mistakes. Learn from them, and continue to grow. Army General George Marshall once said, “An officer never is to take the counsel of his ambition.” As a Marine, you will be trained to be aggressive and confident; always seeking to do your best. Stay humble. Humility will prevent you from making impulsive decisions. It is important to acknowledge your limitations, even as a highly trained Marine, and rely on your fellow compatriot Marines. When you are wrong or make a mistake, admit it, make amends, and work to do better next time. All people are equally important and deserving of respect. Humility will strengthen your judgement and compassion, and make you not only a better Marine, but a better human. Stay humble.
In the poem, Father and Son, William Stafford describes a quiet scene, a son flying a kite with his father. Both are holding onto the string as the kite soars higher and higher with each gust of wind. There is an exciting “thrill along the string that / sagged but sang and said, I’m here!” Since you left for bootcamp, I have been thinking of this poem. Much of parenting is watching your children experience wonder, while you experience it alongside them. So many things are new and exhilarating. A garbage truck is awe-inspiring. Watching a kite soar, feeling the string sag and tug is thrilling.
I am overwhelmingly proud of the man you have become. Despite all of my mistakes as a father, you have found something you love and are pursuing it with a passion. As you know, I had a challenging relationship with my father. We were two very different people. I feared him when he was at home. It is a strange juxtaposition where I both wanted him around more and wanted him to disappear from my life. When I became a father, I vowed never to pass down any of these invisible loyalties1 I inherited. I have worked to have a more loving relationship with you than I had with my father. I hope I have given you enough guidance, and that you have always felt loved and supported. Relationships are complex; I’ve held you so close for so many years, and now I need to release you. As you “sail forever clear” of your childhood home, remember that no matter the distance, or if the kite string breaks somewhere, our bond will endure. “Whatever tugs / the other end — I [will forever] hold [onto] that string.” I love you!
— Dad
Resources
This recording with Christopher Pepper and Cathy Reisenwitz and Gwyne is excellent. They discuss all things teenager masculinity, from sex education to sexual harassment. If you are interested in reading more about teen health, I highly recommend Christopher Pepper’s Substack, Teen Health Today.
Please Never Say “Empty Nester” Again
I found this article fascinating! The words we use to describe, can be powerful indicators of what we value. It reminds me of using the phrase, “I get to work” instead of “I have to work.” If all of your children have left home, how do you feel about the term, “Empty Nester?”
Tony Porter’s book Breaking Out of the Man Box is one that I’ve frequently consulted since its publication in 2021. In his TED Talk, Porter provides a call to action for boys and men helping them see the connection between toxic male socialization and violence against women and girls.
If you don’t have time to read Breaking Out of the Man Box, this illustrated video by White Ribbon of Porter’s “Man Box” is a quick visual explainer. White Ribbon is a movement of men and boys working to end violence against women and girls, promote gender equity, healthy relationships and a new vision of masculinity.
Breaking Down Patriarchy in the Marine Corps – with Kaitlyn Zivanovich
This podcast episode is from Breaking Down the Patriarchy, hosted by Amy McPhie Allebest. Each episode is a book-club-style podcast that features experts and authors from around the world to discuss essential texts relating to the origins and effects of patriarchy. Episode 35 is about patriarchy in the Marine Corps. They also have a YouTube channel with a ton of informational videos.
I love all of Simon Sinek’s work. I read Leader Eat Last when it was first published. Now that my son is becoming a Marine, I decided to reread the introduction and opening chapters, especially about the Circle of Safety. In this video, Sinek tells the origin of the title and a bit about the leadership philosophy in Leaders Eat Last.
May all the love in the world put its arms around you both.
That's beautiful, Adrian. Thank you.