Berlin taz | Dario Michel closes the wings of the whiteboard and the large screen disappears behind it. He and his colleague Nicolas Bruggaier have just shown a short video: a compilation of TikTok clips from self-described “alpha men”.
Her sentences resonate: “If you as a man want to give a woman security, then you have to be emotionally tough,” “You don’t forgive a man if he behaves like a bitch,” “You have a hormone in you that… makes it possible to be constantly self-confident, and that is testosterone.” Dario asks the group how they found the video. “The bald man is right,” says Keno*. His friend Mehmet agrees. “He said a lot of good things, like men these days don’t have enough testosterone.”
That starts well. Twelve boys, 15 and 16 years old, from the tenth grade of a high school in the Lichtenberg district of Berlin are sitting in a circle on this Thursday morning in mid-November. While the girls in their class wanted a self-defense course for the hiking days, the boys were supposed to talk about masculinity for two days.
The image of the male breadwinner
What makes a man? What problems arise when they try to conform to the classic image of masculinity? And what is actually important in friendships, in relationships, in the family? How relevant these questions are becomes clear every day, whether it’s about sexist sayings, anti-queer insults or domestic violence. The idea of hegemonic masculinity devalues women and marginalized people and leads to violence. It is also part of the repertoire of right-wing extremist ideology. This was most recently shown in the election results in Saxony, Thuringia and Brandenburg.
Young men aged 18 to 24 voted for the AfD at an above-average rate. Sociologists like Klaus Hurrelmann explain the “modern gender gap” in terms of gender roles, among other things. While young women are more interested in climate and feminism, men are more concerned about their economic situation – after all, they have to fulfill their role and support a family.
Oppressive masculinity as a danger – isn’t that a bit too abstract for pubescent boys who already have enough chaos in their heads between childhood and adulthood? Nicolas Bruggaier and Dario Michel still want to try it.
Your own puberty, including the discovery of your identity, wasn’t that long ago. Michel is 21 years old, studying sports and history to become a teacher, Bruggaier is 20 and also a prospective teacher of German and ethics. They take the critical masculinity workshop to schools through the independent organization “Beteiligungsfuchse”. Dario has been doing this for a year and a half, and for Nicolas it is the first time.
Real men and “real men”
In order to get a little closer to the reality of young people’s lives, Nicolas and Dario start with the TikTok videos and the question: What are “real men”? Students collect characteristics that the masculinity influencers embody. Brave, better than others, successful, hard working, polite, strong, confident, bearded and trained, attractive, no emotions, successful with women. “You assume that you have to be into women,” says Dario and writes the term “hetero” into the list.
The students know what a man should be, that much becomes clear. In the next step, Dario and Nicolas want to show how these expectations clash with reality – how different real men can be without quotation marks. On a yellow piece of paper, students write down qualities in a male caregiver that they value. This could be the father, a brother, cousin, friend or coach. The notes say: smart, sporty, polite, open-minded, kind, caring, good style, inspiring, helpful.
Everyone goes along up to this point. Obviously the “real men” are different from real men. But what’s the problem with wanting to conform to social expectations? “It’s good when men are strong and train,” says Mehmet. And Kilian says: “That’s what women want too.”
Martial arts against emotional explosions
For this moment, Nicolas brought a large bottle of Coke with him. He shakes it violently and then holds it in front of a student’s nose. “What happens if I open it now?” Big laugh, nobody wants a cola shower. “Hey, boys!” calls Nicolas to get attention again.
He wants to explain the idea behind the joke: Just as an explosive force accumulates in the cola when you shake it, negative feelings build up when you repress them – until they make their way into aggression. “You can harm yourself, but of course you can also harm others,” says Dario.
He and Nicolas mention the high suicide rate among men, which contrasts with the lower proportion of men in psychotherapy. And they mention intimate partner violence and femicide. “In the small town where I come from, five women were murdered by their partners or ex-partners in one year,” says Nicolas.
So how do you deal with sadness, loneliness, fear, the feelings that men are not allowed to show so as not to be seen as weak? Half of the students say: talk to friends, get help. It is the boys who still have childhood written all over their faces who mostly say gaming is their hobby. The other half, the cool boys who go pumping, wear caps or pull the hood of their hoodies up to just above their eyebrows, say: martial arts.
Alone with anger
Mehmet belongs to the martial arts faction. Tenderness between friends? Only in boxing: “We always hug after sparring, that’s enough,” he says and laughs. Of course, he does talk to his girlfriend about feelings, but some things you just have to work out for yourself.
The problems that he has to deal with himself become briefly clear when Nicolas and Dario talk about discrimination. Mehmet tells how an older woman once approached him on the subway: “She pushed me through the door, I asked her what that was about, and she simply said: ‘Go back to your country.'”
Keno talks about a racist teacher. “I fasted and told friends I was hungry. Then the teacher said, ‘Then eat something!’ I said that I was fasting, and she said: ‘Then go back to your country, then you can fast.’” A discussion group with twelve students is enough to make it clear what exclusion and devaluation migrant young people experience. And with what anger it leaves them.
Mehmet is all the more surprising with his acting performance. For a practical exercise, Nicolas pretends to be desperately sad: lovesick. Mehmet agrees to take on the second part and play Nicolas’ friend who wants to comfort him. He sits down next to Nicolas, puts his hand on his back, leans down to him and asks: “What’s going on?” Nicolas talks about a fictitious girlfriend who turned him down. “You have to show her that you can do without her, then she will come back. Now it’s boxing, come with me, distract yourself first,” says Mehmet. Establish closeness – check. Listen – Check. Suggest distraction – check. Only Mehmet’s idea of making his girlfriend jealous doesn’t quite meet the workshop goals.
Girls, the sea monsters
How do pubescent boys imagine an ideal love relationship? Very few people in the group have a girlfriend, and no one talks about a boyfriend. But everyone still knows the supposed rules. In the “Relationship Ship” exercise, students draw a ship on a poster and then stick statements about a romantic relationship on the picture.
“Your friend borrowed something and won’t give it back,” is written on a piece of paper, for example. “It doesn’t matter,” says Andrij and sticks the note into the hull of the ship. “Your friend has many friends of the opposite sex.” This piece of paper ends up with the sea monster. “This is dangerous,” says Andrij. And that’s what everyone else says too.
The fact that girls and boys are simply friends, that girls don’t cheat immediately when they get the attention of another man – these considerations seem to be foreign to them. Anyway, misogynistic images keep cropping up. When it comes to insults, for example. “Cunt”, “whore”, “fuck your mother”, “deflower your daughter” – no one really seems to understand why these expressions devalue women. That’s just dark humor, says Lars. “If I say to Andrij, I’m deporting you, he thinks it’s funny too.”
Two days do not work miracles and are no match for 16 years of social influence. In the best case scenario, they provide food for thought. “The acting thing surprised me,” says Mehmet at the end. “Because you really shouldn’t speak badly when someone is feeling bad, but rather be more careful.”
*All students’ names have been changed.
