The Cambridge Dictionary defines masculinity as “the characteristics that are traditionally thought to be typical of or suitable for men.” (Cambridge Dictionary) The Collins Dictionary elaborates on the definition of masculinity, stating, “There are many positive qualities that have historically been defined as either masculine (leadership, strength, courage) or feminine (nurturing, compassion, caring). In reality, people are individuals with a unique combination of attributes.” (Collins Dictionary) Fair enough, it is possible for men and women to have both masculine and feminine qualities, or you can be a masculine woman or a feminine man. Either way, it is fine. Personally, I think people who know me would say I blend masculine and feminine qualities. Although the Canadian Army did not think I had the qualities of leadership they wanted, in civilian life, I have exercised leadership, strength, and courage numerous times in emergencies. I have given emergency first aid to strangers at car accident scenes, to a man who suffered a grand mal seizure, and put out a fire that broke out in my house—a candle ignited a curtain that a stray gust of wind blew into the flame. By the time I retrieved the fire extinguisher, the flames had consumed the curtains in the front window of the house and were spreading across the ceiling. By the time the fire department arrived, the fire was out. The firefighters told me I had done a good job putting out the fire, and the insurance company was happy with me, because, as a friend said, “You saved them a piss pot full of money.” Interestingly, it was my military service where I learned to keep my cool in a crisis, to exercise leadership, to give emergency first aid, and to fight fires. In those situations, when I took the lead, those around me followed, and the crisis was brought to a successful conclusion. People who know me also tell me I have the gift of wisdom. They tell me I always know what to say when they are stressed or hurting. I offer more than banalities and platitudes in a difficult situation. They refer to this as an innate gentleness I possess. Yes, it puzzles them that I am a keen hunter. How can someone so gentle make the choice to go hunting and kill game birds and animals?

 

I am reminded of the “unique combination of attributes” from a documentary on hunting I watched many years ago. The film is called “In the Blood.” The film, made in 1989 by George Butler, documents the safari that descendants of Theodore Roosevelt retraced—the one he took with his son Kermit in 1909. The film provides insight into hunting in general and African big-game hunting in particular. The safari was led by a professional hunter, Robin Hurt, a man’s man and dedicated conservationist. In one segment, Butler’s thirteen-year-old son is taken on a hunt for a cape buffalo. Robin Hurt guided the boy on the hunt across the savanna and wetlands as they closed in on a herd of cape buffalo. When a buffalo was selected, the boy placed two shots into the animal, killing it cleanly. As he walked up to the carcass, tears welled up in his eyes, and he tried to fight them back. Robin Hurt, the great white hunter, seeing this, told the boy, “Don’t hold back. Let them flow; it’s a natural reaction.” Yes, I know how the boy felt. When you make the choice to kill a game animal or bird, the natural reaction is a feeling of triumph and sorrow. Hurt understood that and told the boy there was nothing shameful or unmanly in his reaction.

 

I am a keen hunter, but I am an actor, too. I have performed roles on stage and screen. Acting requires the ability to connect with your emotions and express them genuinely. It is challenging for me as I am not overly emotional. I do not frighten easily, and have the restraint to keep stupid people from baiting me. I tend to be stoic in my expression of grief, though there are notable exceptions. My maternal grandmother died two weeks after my thirtieth birthday. I had a close relationship with her. My family was surprised at how composed I was. I wrote and delivered the eulogy at her funeral. It was not until two years passed that I finally shed a few tears for her in the cathedral in Lyon, France. On the other hand, when I held my first dog, Christie, as she was euthanized, I cried harder than ever before in my life. For years, following Christie’s death, on the anniversary of her passing, I could not hold back my tears. I loved my grandmother and my dog, Christie, dearly, and I can not explain how I remained so calm and reserved when my grandmother died, and how I went to pieces when I lost Christie. I think my friends are correct. I am a “unique combination of attributes.” As I go through life, I apply these attributes the best I can. I am a man, and I have nothing to be ashamed of about my blend of masculine and feminine qualities.