When Boys Will Be Boys
But in the best ways possible
Our son came home with news that one of his friends from school was planning a birthday camping trip in June.
“With how many boys?”
He counted off those whom he knew would be invited. “I think six or seven.”
A little nervous about what that could mean for his poor friend’s parents, I asked, “Do his parents want help???”
Over the course of the second semester, we had discovered that this friend’s parents were also avid campers who had transitioned to a C-class for their local camping adventures. While we waited for our boys to run their races in spring track meets, we had fleetingly mentioned we should go together sometime. It’s one of those suggestions one genuinely means but has no idea how it will ever become a reality. I finally asked the mom about the summer plans in late spring.
“It will be fun. We’re looking forward to it.”
“Do you want help? An extra set of hands and eyes and ears? We would be happy to go camping with you all if there are extra sites available.” We didn’t have summer vacation plans, so we could work it in.
“Really? Yes, that would be great!”
There were extra sites available close to the ones they had reserved. We made our reservations and looked forward to a weekend camping with other adults and watching out for young teenage boys ready to run wild.
Despite the unseasonable heat and humidity, the threat of pop-up showers, the closed beach due to flooding, and our eventual troubles on our trip home,1 we had a wonderful weekend of adult conversation and watching our son be his best self with his friends from school.
And all weekend long, I couldn’t help but think I was witnessing the very best version of “boys will be boys.”
We arrived first, so he had to anxiously wait for all of his friends to arrive in the second vehicle. From the moment the other boys showed up, they were off to explore. Fishing rods came out that first night and they waded out into the murky, flooded shoreline. The next day they fished some more, and when a fishing line got carried across the lagoon, all six got into our inflatable kayaks to rescue the line and find what animal was caught on the hook, after we told them to put up their phones. They spent hours playing in the water at the flooded beach, fished some more, climbed trees, unsuccessfully fileted a catfish that looked more like a science experiment when they were done than food safe for consumption, swam some more, competed with cornhole, and then crashed out in a tent after s’mores by the campfire. We parents think they slept, but we also know they talked into the early hours at least one night, because they told us they were talking about “life” when we asked during breakfast.
And their cell phones? They mostly stayed put away, because in the end they were having too much fun doing things together to worry about what was happening in the outside world.
I have both a son and a daughter, and the rise of the “Me Too” movement hit me from all directions. I want the very best for my daughter. I want her to follow her dreams. As we prepare for college visits, I worry about her safety on college campuses and want her to know she has supportive parents who will help her with any situation that arises. While she doesn’t tell us everything, she and I have had many honest and open conversations about sex and her body and I hope I have nurtured a relationship in which she knows she can come talk to me if she really needs help.
My son is my baby, and we are too much alike. I adore him and we fight far too much to my husband’s liking. I bristle at the “boys will be boys” excuse for bad behavior because I expect more from my son. I want more for my son.
But I so often feel like I’m failing him.
We are imperfectly navigating the world of crushes, first love, and romantic relationships. He has to work extra hard to keep his spot on the school basketball team because we haven’t put him in travel ball or AAU. He’s gracefully navigating a tough academic environment, but I worry that he will burn out before achieving his engineering dreams. Or that our government will have wiped out his scientific and academic pathway before he even gets started.
But then I see him finally comfortable and completely himself with a new group of friends at a campground away from most of the pressures of the outside world. I watch him play flag football with his friends from his old school and see boys who are just having fun with each other, throwing, catching, and running their way to several wins and a couple of close losses. I get surrounded by him and a few friends just walking around a track meet, waiting for their next event and looking for ways to stay actively engaged with each other and their competing teammates. I’m thrilled that he isn’t embarrassed that his friends appear to like us enough to say hi and want us around when the time is right.
When I observe these boys being active and doing stereotypical boy things, it reminds me that not all is lost.
Our nation’s kids, boys and girls, are in crisis, but it doesn’t have to be this way.
They need us to believe in them. They need us to create space for them to just be themselves and learn and take risks. They need us to listen to everything, including the silence, to discover what they want to tell us, but can’t.
I’ll never do so perfectly. Some days, I downright stink at doing any of this. But I keep trying because I want my son and daughter to be their best and I believe that a better future for them is possible.
Because someday, I would like “boys will be boys” to mean the very best for our sons and everyone they come into contact with. I don’t believe it is too much to ask.
I found this piece interesting. As with all issues, we need more nuanced conversations, and I believe Richard Reeves is opening those doors.
Support my writing
While most of my work here is free for all subscribers, it is still a labor of love that I fit into the few hours I have when I am not teaching or being an attentive wife and mom. If you want to support my writing but you do not want to commit to being a paid subscriber, please consider a one-time donation.
You can also support me by ordering my book or books from my favorite book lists at my Bookshop.org affiliate page.
Check out my RedBubble store for related merchandise.
If you want to be a regular supporter, you can upgrade your subscription from free to paid and get occasional content only for paid subscribers.
And thank you for supporting my journey 💗
That is another long and sad tale of failed ball bearings, a smoking tire, and just being thankful that it wasn’t worse.
Loved this Sarah, happy for your son!! We are just starting college visits with our daughter as well.