Smile For Me: How Fragile Masculinity Undermines Our Society
Cindy and I were walking along a street in Central London, her a few steps ahead of me. She passed into the view of two lads in their twenties who were standing on the steps of a house. I was still obscured by the wall of a neighboring building.
“Hey gorgeous, give us a smile,” yelled one of the boys wearing a suit and tie. He then turned to his male companion to calibrate the effectiveness of his heterosexual confirmatory signaling.
As he turned back to look at the object of his insecurity, he was surprised to find another male approaching, one who was clearly with Cindy: that was me. There I was, six-foot-three tall with muscles, a shaved head, and a giant beard, looking ultra-masculine, unintentionally obscuring the subtle blend of masculine and feminine within me.
“Oh, uh, sorry mate. Um, um, well done,” he obsequiated, as if I had managed to tame (or even tricked) this wild and scary beast into walking down the street with me. It was as if I was a conqueror who had overcome the protestations of a meeker race and colonized her against her will, bringing her railroads and writing instruments in exchange for her spices.
In Woking, UK: “I don’t even care that you’re Chinese,” he said to Cindy as she sat on a bench, waiting five minutes for me to return. The comment…
