Big fear, small talk: navigating conversation with anxiety

Africanxious: Boys don't cry: society must address the issues arising from toxic masculinity

Much of the literature surrounding gender emphasizes the ways in which women are often disadvantaged by varying forms of masculinity. In these contexts, we focus on how women should deal with pernicious displays of manhood—how they can fight against it—but we do not tackle toxic displays of masculinity at their core. Instead we expect women to cater to these fragile masculinities.
It is far less common for us to worry about men and the very narrow box of masculinity that confines them. We don’t pay much attention to masculinity exclusively, reasonably so, given its privilege and power. We do not police masculinity. Conversely, society fixates on regulating the construct of femininity. This blatant indifference for the status of manhood has lent itself to toxic masculinity, a variation that exaggerates the conventional notions of manhood. At the hands of toxic masculinity, we all lose. Some of us, however, lose more.
To clarify, “masculinity” in this context refers not to inherent male traits but to the social construction of manhood. When we talk about the harmful effects of toxic masculinity, we are not criticizing men, but rather calling attention to the unfair standards imposed upon them. Some of the characteristics of toxic masculinity, to name a few, include: the suppression of emotions, aggression and misogyny.
Toxic masculinity has colored my experience as a man with social anxiety: I have often been made to feel ashamed of my meekness (often equated to unmanliness) and I have often been told to be more aggressive (this word is often used interchangeably with masculine). In that vein, I have been reminded that boys don’t cry one too many times (the rare moments in which I do cry, I often find myself feeling guilty). I have regularly been excluded from conversations among other young men, particularly in high school when the substance of these conversations regarded sex. I usually had little interest in talking about my sex life (or lack thereof). Talking about sex, particularly heterosexual sex, can often be a communal experience among young males. The issue that arises within these conversations is the tendency to dehumanize the women involved. Of course, these men are often merely sharing details of their sexcapades as grounds to warrant their masculinity; however, these conversations plant seeds of misogyny (a symptom of toxic masculinity).
I was often ostracized by male peers who had no interest in tainting their burgeoning masculinity with anything considered “unmanly.” The endless pursuit of young men to be more masculine coupled with the blatant indifference to this phenomenon is troubling.
Our culture does a disservice to men when it expects them to adhere to these notions of toxic masculinity—while ignoring the harm it inflicts on all genders. The way in which our culture has normalized negative male behavior is disconcerting.
Although we commonly discuss definitions of femininity, we are still relatively ignorant about masculinity in its various forms. When we do recognize the potential harms of toxic masculinity, we don’t take the necessary steps to address it.
Like many, I am still trying to unlearn the corrosive notions of masculinity that I internalized while growing up. However, the lack of societal discourse regarding positive notions of masculinity is appalling. Without positive displays and much-needed conversation on the subject of toxic masculinity and the way in which it affects men, this cycle goes undisturbed.

Africanxious

Big fear, small talk: navigating conversation with anxiety

This piece represents the opinion of the author:

Maurice Asare

Columnist

February 9, 2017

My greatest fear has seven letters and two syllables, but has no sound… Silence.

The uncomfortable nature of silence cannot be understated. Silence often screams the loudest at the most inopportune moments; when we run into an acquaintance at the printer or in line at Moulton or Thorne. In order to alleviate the discomfort of silence, we use small talk as a placeholder. Silence can be awkward and uncomfortable; therefore, it must be avoided entirely. This fear of silence often prompts us to engage in small talk. This brief chatter, while tedious, is a necessary ritual in everyday life. The art of small talk may be something most people take for granted, but the origins of nearly all of our relationships can be traced back to some variation of it.

As Bowdoin students, our small talk often begins with the archetypal, “How are you?,” or my personal favorite, “How was your break?,” and ultimately lingers on to lamentations over the amount of coursework or readings we have. I’ve often found humor in the seemingly competitive nature of these conversations between Bowdoin students alike. In a sense, each student seems to try to convince the other that he/she/they has more work.

This form of small talk seems to be universal. We use it to commiserate; we use it to bond and to reinforce our status as members of a unified community. In other words, all Bowdoin students are able to rely on exchanges about workload as a pathway to actual conversation. Hence, small talk is not only convenient, but is also necessary. It is the gateway to a richer, more meaningful discussion.

For many with anxiety, however, the small talk that others engage in so easily can sometimes feel out of reach. There is plenty of literature that offers advice on how to mitigate the stress-inducing nature of these interactions. The solutions that are offered seem to emphasize the notion that the anxiety elicited by conversations is all in one’s mind. Really? Many of the articles that I’ve read on this topic stress the subjective nature of mental disorder, while diminishing the objective reality of its sufferers. I’ve come to realize that the issue for those with social anxiety is not the small talk which elicits these nerve-wracking thoughts, but rather the thoughts themselves.

Social interactions, such as these, can incite an intense fear of judgment and scrutiny. People with social anxiety regularly face a series of self-critical thoughts throughout a conversation. Typically, anxiety sufferers avoid situations involving small talk completely, because they are certain that they will perform poorly. If they do force themselves to endure it, they will face an uncomfortable and nearly unbearable level of nervousness. As someone with anxiety, my difficulty with small talk is a frequent barrier to my social performance. I sometimes find myself struggling to fill silences with statements lacking substance and instead choose to remain silent. While awkward small talk can be nerve-wracking for anyone, those who suffer from social anxiety are more likely to stumble upon words or avoid the interaction altogether, which ultimately excludes them from a key step in forming new relationships.

Small talk is undoubtedly a fundamental tool in forming new relationships. Each interaction, however, provides an opportunity to engage in (or avoid) these opportunities to connect with others.

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