Men’s traditional roles challenged in pandemic
Many are struggling and seeking answers as masculinity continues to be redefined
So many men derive their identity from what they do for a living and providing for their families.
But for those who have lost their jobs or been furloughed or had their work roles diminished during the COVID-19 pandemic, these conventional masculine identities have been challenged, said Montrealer Mark Stolow, CEO of the Huddol digital wellness platform. And many are struggling.
Many men find themselves in full-time caregiver roles to their children for the first time. Many are worried about their aging parents and their vulnerability to COVID-19. If a woman loses her job because of the pandemic, it’s considered natural for her to pivot to taking care of the children and managing the household, said Paul Simard, a facilitator and curator of men’s groups and space.
“It’s not so natural for men. And there is the unknown: How do I protect my children? Men are control freaks by nature.”
Simard speaks from experience. In 2017, at 46, he suddenly lost his job as a fundraiser “and all the social constructs I used to define myself were quickly taken away.”
Initially, the dominant emotion he felt was fear. But the crisis was also an opportunity. He had a severance package and was able to line up a couple of contracts within a few weeks. He joined a few men’s circles and participated in online workshops, attended conferences and started “to explore what it would mean to develop yourself as a man and to show up in a healthy way.”
Simard began to work with a personal coach. Last August he started a men’s group called Humenity, which today has more than 100 members around the world who meet weekly through its Facebook component.
Last October, Simard gave a powerful Tedxlaval talk on men, masculinity and vulnerability.
If there is a silver lining to the pandemic, it’s that “we are seeing a lot of men come forward and say ‘I need help,’” he said. It is “a call for men to think differently about the roles they are socialized to perform in order to feel whole.”
Montrealer Geoff Moore said he values the Humenity group as “a non-judgmental place for a real conversation about the challenges we are facing and how we might do better.”
“If you go to the group, you know you are going to have a real conversation,” said the entrepreneur and father of four. “This is about men trying to be better men in society. Because we all face more uncertainty than in the past, there is a need for more dialogue to find constructive solutions to our problems.”
The pandemic, said Stolow, has obliged men “to think about themselves in a larger context.”
“If I realize the economy is more vulnerable and my relationship with family is more strained than
I thought, then who am I in this world?”
For many men, “there is a conscious awareness that something is out of alignment. Who they are doesn’t make sense to them anymore,” Stolow said. “Our goal is to help men expand their view of what it means to be masculine.”
Huddol, launched in 2017, is a social forum, a place to listen or to offer or receive help, Stolow said. It combines community with private and group virtual support sessions led by professionals. It’s all about helping people “move toward the goal of living more fully.”
Although most of the 55,000 members are women, one area of focus is helping men struggling with issues around identity changes, job and income loss and overall mental health — all brought into relief by the pandemic. Huddol has a mindful masculinity social forum, with Simard a leader; on June 16, Simard will start an online men’s group on the platform.
“Part of our challenge is to say it is OK to get together as men and not talk about scores and sports,” Stolow said.
He believes many men want to have deeper conversations “but don’t think they have permission.”
“Huddol is about giving men a hall pass to talk.”