A young man named Anthony Lanza jumped out of an airplane into the Pacific front of World War II before he was 20 years old. He didn’t sign up to be a paratrooper for the accolades. Rather, it let him send more money home to his family in New York while he spent years abroad fighting for the Allies.
Anthony Lanza was my grandfather. Men like him won World War II. Men like him rebuilt the world in the decades thereafter. When I think about the man I strive to be, I think of him. I will always cherish his memory and hope I make him proud.
Sometime in the last decade, a growing call emerged in the mainstream to “redefine” masculinity. With pseudo-psychologists claiming that traditional masculinity is “toxic.” They tell us that men need to “talk more about their feelings” and that they should “cry more.”
Please. It seems that men like my grandfather created a world so comfortable that people could forget why masculinity is a virtue.
I take great issue with the enemies of masculinity for so many reasons. But most of all because of the relationship I had with my grandfather. He was a brave, fair, and hardworking man who took great care of his family. He was strong and dignified and understood how to solve real problems, not “unpack” them — to use the parlance of the pseudo-psychologist.
I’m not here to argue that men can’t ever talk about their feelings or occasionally shed a tear. Rather that men benefit less from talk and more from action. Men need purpose. They need strength. They need something productive to do with their lives.
The fragile order my grandfather’s generation of men brought to the world was taken for granted somewhere along the way. At some point the mainstream view seemed to shift. As though men were no longer needed, at least not in their natural state.
But as I look around the world today, I can’t help but think the people who wish to redefine masculinity are in for a wake-up call. Let’s hope they listen.