Black Los Angeles

THE BRIDGE:
Big Boys Don¹t Cry

By Darryl James

When little boys hear "big boys don¹t cry," they prepare to be big boys and they prepare themselves to stop crying. The end result is emotional retardation.

We are taught from an early age to disconnect from most of our emotions. We can still feel pain and our feelings can still get hurt. We feel joy and we still love, but the feelings are distant at best and foreign at worst. We don¹t feel the need to talk about them or face them enough to process them.

We need to discuss this issue because it¹s ripping our community apart. While many women will cry when hurt or angry, too many men will lash out, having been taught that violence is the only appropriate response to pain or anger.

What some perceive as a choice to act stoic is actually a pathological attempt at erasure of emotions. Too many Black men hold our feelings inside until they fester and tear us apart, causing more of us to die early from stroke, heart attack, and other stress-related maladies.

I became a "big boy" a bit late. I was fifteen when I finally gave up my tears.

I blame part of my emotional retardation on the "big boys don¹t cry syndrome," but part of it came from having so much to cry about in such a short time, that my emotional system shut down as a failsafe against insanity.

At the age of fifteen, my stepfather, the man who raised me as his own, lost his battle with cancer. Within one year, I also lost my oldest brother and my grandmother.

I used to cry when I was happy and cry when I was sad. I would cry when I was afraid and cry when I was lonely. But once I became a big boy, I no longer cried. In fact, I didn¹t cry from sixteen until twenty-one, when my mother died.

I remember curling up in a little tiny ball and crying my eyes out, wanting to die and join her or explode and cease to exist, but right after the funeral, I "manned up" and turned off the tears again, because after all, big boys don¹t cry. My girlfriend at the time told me so. She had decided that I had been crying too long and was starting to "bitch up."

I turned off my tears again, and in doing so, I turned off a connection with humanity. I intellectualized pain, and tried to analyze love, life and even laughter from a purely cerebral perspective. "I think, therefore, I am, but I don¹t cry" was my motto.

I would look at emotionally healthy people in confusion, not quite understanding the emotions they would demonstrate so openly. I remember laughing once because a girlfriend¹s crying seemed so puzzling. Not that it was truly funny, but I just didn¹t understand, and in my confusion, discomfort gave way to laughter, a primary nervous reaction.

It¹s not just Black men who are emotionally retarded. We are following the emotional retardation of the dominant culture, which is where we get the whole "big boys don¹t cry" syndrome. But the reality is that we have embraced it and it belongs to us now, too.

That retardation must be appealing to our sisters, because many of them are becoming detached as well.

Some of the disconnected still have vestigial emotions‹remnants of what once existed, firing off neural connections in a similar fashion to severed arms and legs which still "feel" as though they are still there.

We can reconnect to our emotions, but we have to acknowledge that there is a disconnect. I acknowledged my own, and over the past few years, I have been slowly reconnecting.

By the end of my twenties, I began to analyze the appropriate emotional response to the feelings I had intellectualized. I began to understand and reconnect. It was a beginning.

When my last relationship ended, I was also going through some professional difficulties. It seemed as though my entire world was falling apart and I knew that I was a mess. I not only embraced celibacy, but I embraced my spirituality like never before and that¹s when it happened.

I cried.

I cried as though the skies were opening up, but in fact, it was my heart opening up.

I felt things, not just intellectually, but really felt them and I cried about feeling them.

My reconnection to my emotions was an important event, which ostensibly heralded a crucial stage of my journey towards enlightenment.

I am healing still, but I thank God that I have some of my emotions back. I am happy about it, even though I can not yet cry about that happiness.

The most intellectual of us can recognize each other easily as I did with my friend and fellow emotional retard, Trey, when he explained that the only two emotions he had as a youth were rage and indifference. His words were my reality. He intellectualized his emotions and chose an emotionally healthy woman to provide his children (two boys) with normal emotions.

There are many of us who are emotionally healthy.

Some of my best friends are emotionally healthy and I¹ve seen several of them cry openly. I¹ve even seen them shed tears of joy, which gave me hope that one day I, too, will have tears for the joy that warms my heart. I harbor hope that one day, I, too, will be emotionally healthy.

I am admitting that I am emotionally retarded, even though I now have tears for many of my emotions. And I want more brothers to find their tears and to find their emotions, so that we can heal and our community can heal.

Mock me if you want, but I¹m a man and I am no longer afraid to cry.

Maybe big boys don¹t cry. But men do and big boys should, too.

What do you think about this article? Click Here

Darryl James launched the only Black owned rap music publication, Rap Sheet in 1992. He is the author of "Bridging The Black Gender Gap," which is also the basis of a national seminar series. James was awarded the 2004 Non-fiction Award for his book on the Los Angeles Riots at the Seventh Annual Black History Month Book Fair and Conference in Chicago. He can be reached at djames@TheBlackGenderGap.com.




			THE BRIDGE: Big Boys Don¹t Cry By Darryl James When little boys hear "big boys don¹t cry," they prepare to be big boys and they prepare themselves to stop crying. The end result is emotional retardation. We are taught from an early age to disconnect from most of our emotions. We can still feel pain and our feelings can still get hurt. We feel joy and we still love, but the feelings are distant at best and foreign at worst. We don¹t feel the need to talk about them or face them enough to process them. We need to discuss this issue because it¹s ripping our community apart. While many women will cry when hurt or angry, too many men will lash out, having been taught that violence is the only appropriate response to pain or anger. What some perceive as a choice to act stoic is actually a pathological attempt at erasure of emotions. Too many Black men hold our feelings inside until they fester and tear us apart, causing more of us to die early from stroke, heart attack, and other stress-related maladies. I became a "big boy" a bit late. I was fifteen when I finally gave up my tears. I blame part of my emotional retardation on the "big boys don¹t cry syndrome," but part of it came from having so much to cry about in such a short time, that my emotional system shut down as a failsafe against insanity. At the age of fifteen, my stepfather, the man who raised me as his own, lost his battle with cancer. Within one year, I also lost my oldest brother and my grandmother. I used to cry when I was happy and cry when I was sad. I would cry when I was afraid and cry when I was lonely. But once I became a big boy, I no longer cried. In fact, I didn¹t cry from sixteen until twenty-one, when my mother died. I remember curling up in a little tiny ball and crying my eyes out, wanting to die and join her or explode and cease to exist, but right after the funeral, I "manned up" and turned off the tears again, because after all, big boys don¹t cry. My girlfriend at the time told me so. She had decided that I had been crying too long and was starting to "bitch up." I turned off my tears again, and in doing so, I turned off a connection with humanity. I intellectualized pain, and tried to analyze love, life and even laughter from a purely cerebral perspective. "I think, therefore, I am, but I don¹t cry" was my motto. I would look at emotionally healthy people in confusion, not quite understanding the emotions they would demonstrate so openly. I remember laughing once because a girlfriend¹s crying seemed so puzzling. Not that it was truly funny, but I just didn¹t understand, and in my confusion, discomfort gave way to laughter, a primary nervous reaction. It¹s not just Black men who are emotionally retarded. We are following the emotional retardation of the dominant culture, which is where we get the whole "big boys don¹t cry" syndrome. But the reality is that we have embraced it and it belongs to us now, too. That retardation must be appealing to our sisters, because many of them are becoming detached as well. Some of the disconnected still have vestigial emotions‹remnants of what once existed, firing off neural connections in a similar fashion to severed arms and legs which still "feel" as though they are still there. We can reconnect to our emotions, but we have to acknowledge that there is a disconnect. I acknowledged my own, and over the past few years, I have been slowly reconnecting. By the end of my twenties, I began to analyze the appropriate emotional response to the feelings I had intellectualized. I began to understand and reconnect. It was a beginning. When my last relationship ended, I was also going through some professional difficulties. It seemed as though my entire world was falling apart and I knew that I was a mess. I not only embraced celibacy, but I embraced my spirituality like never before and that¹s when it happened. I cried. I cried as though the skies were opening up, but in fact, it was my heart opening up. I felt things, not just intellectually, but really felt them and I cried about feeling them. My reconnection to my emotions was an important event, which ostensibly heralded a crucial stage of my journey towards enlightenment. I am healing still, but I thank God that I have some of my emotions back. I am happy about it, even though I can not yet cry about that happiness. The most intellectual of us can recognize each other easily as I did with my friend and fellow emotional retard, Trey, when he explained that the only two emotions he had as a youth were rage and indifference. His words were my reality. He intellectualized his emotions and chose an emotionally healthy woman to provide his children (two boys) with normal emotions. There are many of us who are emotionally healthy. Some of my best friends are emotionally healthy and I¹ve seen several of them cry openly. I¹ve even seen them shed tears of joy, which gave me hope that one day I, too, will have tears for the joy that warms my heart. I harbor hope that one day, I, too, will be emotionally healthy. I am admitting that I am emotionally retarded, even though I now have tears for many of my emotions. And I want more brothers to find their tears and to find their emotions, so that we can heal and our community can heal. Mock me if you want, but I¹m a man and I am no longer afraid to cry. Maybe big boys don¹t cry. But men do and big boys should, too. What do you think about this article? Click Here Darryl James launched the only Black owned rap music publication, Rap Sheet in 1992. He is the author of "Bridging The Black Gender Gap," which is also the basis of a national seminar series. James was awarded the 2004 Non-fiction Award for his book on the Los Angeles Riots at the Seventh Annual Black History Month Book Fair and Conference in Chicago. He can be reached at djames@TheBlackGenderGap.com.