toxic masculinity

There is a problem with men here in South Africa. Readers of Capewonders are familiar with the theme. I have tended to discourse the problem in a spiritual framework because that’s the way I’m wired. But, a few weeks ago, the review section of a Sunday paper carried the following headline:

“Battle against toxic masculinity”

A secular writer in a secular newspaper saying “the abuse of children and women is a scourge that needs to be addressed”. Not very different from another writer, a Christian, Leanne Payne, who names the cause as “failed male identities”.

“Toxic masculinity”. It is an image that fits the problem very well. And not least because the whole body of men in a society is affected. I remind you of Paul in the township of Lentageur who does not visit vulnerable families “because the women and children are afraid of a man”. Any man. Even this good man Paul, who is shackled with a broken image not of his own making. Every encounter with a woman or a child is a battle for him. As for myself, I too have to drink from this cup. How do poor, black people view a white man with white hair who moves around in their midst? What have white men with white hair done to them down the generations? Every encounter is also for me a battle, a battle with an old and very toxic image. One I did not know I had until I came here to this place.

We went to help with the soup kitchen at Kleinvlei on Wednesday. Five large tureens went in fifteen minutes to a long row of little ones, each carrying a small plastic container, some grasping the hand of a parent as they waited in line. Of course it was a heartbreaking sight. But also triumphant. The women of St. Kizito were feeding the children. This day at least they would not go hungry. This day they would not be abandoned. As the last vestiges of burnt remnants were scraped from the last of the large, heavy containers, only one went without food, an old woman who vented her disappointment in guttural Afrikaans. But it may have been about the white man with the white hair. Marian did not translate.

The ingredients for the five tureens cost around R200. That’s about £20. In the evening with our two visiting friends from Skipton we ate at our favourite Italian restaurant around the corner from the Salesian Institute. Including a generous tip, that came to R900, a little less than £90. The doggy bag from two leftover pasta dishes went to a youth bedding down for the night on the pavement around the corner on Chippiani.

Enough to digest. For now.