Hey Fellas!

Hey, boys, check this out:

Now that I've got your attention, this story has nothing to do with me. It has to do with you. You and the best man I've ever known.

I love men! My husband is one. I raised 3 boys who became men. My father was a man.

And the fellas are getting a bad rap. Granted, a good deal of it is warranted, not because of individual guys, but the system in general. Patriarchy sucks. Toxic masculinity sucks, and to me, the Andrew Tates of the world aren't men. They're sad little boys who just happened to age out of childhood.

But what is a man?

What does it mean?

Does anyone even know anymore?

I look at my boys, all in their 30s now. They're intelligent, educated, compassionate humans who feel the weight of masculinity. They feel both the loneliness of trying to be tough, even though they know better and the shame of what some of their ilk have done and continue to do.

They struggle with their place in the world, so worthy, but so unworthy, wanting to lead the next generation but feeling completely without direction themselves.

Enter Rudy.

For those of you gracious enough to read me over the past 5 years, you know my dad was the best man I ever had the pleasure of knowing.

He was sweet and kind and gentle. He loved children and cooking. He cried over The Jungle Book and other movies and TV shows.

He was also a big, tough Army man and boxer who could wreck an opponent in mere seconds, if he wanted to.

And even with his 4th-grade education, he told the best stories! I've shared some of them here.

Growing up poor, Black, and male wasn't exactly easy in 1930s Atlantic Canada.

The stories he told still ring in my ears, and I promised him that someday, I'd give those stories life. And that's what I've done with Moments Make the Man.

They're largely his stories, as crafted by me, all centred around the theme of manhood.

As Rudy grows from a young Depression-era boy, desperate to fill his father's enormous shoes, to a modern 1990s grandfather in a rapidly changing world, his concept of manhood evolves.

It's a journey, an evolution. He learns, through heartwarming and heartwrenching experiences, that being a man is less about what's forcefully taken and more about what's freely and lovingly given.

I'm very proud of this book. Not only does it fulfil a longstanding promise to my dad, but it sheds some light on the complexities of manhood.

I'm hoping that younger guys read it and see something in it, a glimmer of hope, and the lesson that men don't need to be hard or tough. Real men love. Real men don't fear women or put them down. Real men understand that they share the planet with women and others whose value is equal to their own.

Somehow, my uneducated, old-school father was able to get that.

Somehow, he was able to teach me not to judge, but to also not wear the weight of the judgment of others.

He's been dead 31 years, and he's still the best role model I'd ever want for my boys or anyone else's.

It didn't happen overnight. That's the thing, it was a journey, a long and winding one, with wins, losses and a ton of mistakes. His story is heartwarming but also heartbreaking.

I'm honoured and humbled to share it. I wish every single day he were here to read it and to sit down with young guys, to let them know that softness and kindness are strengths, not weaknesses.

Our boys need an alternative to the Andrew Tates of the world. Maybe Rudy is it?