 This video is sponsored by Avatar Generations. Avatar Generations is a free to play mobile RPG by Navigator Games where you can relive the gang's beloved adventure and build your own team avatar by collecting iconic characters from the vast avatar universe. You can choose from some of Avatar's greatest men and women, like Aang, Iroh, Toph and many many more, as you venture through a dynamic map of the four nations. Avatar Generations has just received new content under its latest update, The Hegemon's Folly, that adds a new campaign, canon to the Avatar franchise, featuring Pirate Captain Jiang from the graphic novel Katara and the Pirate Silver, and a new villain, Commander Mamushi, and adds Captain Masaru as a collectible character at the beginning of June. June Captain Jiang as she races against a clock to solve an ancient puzzle before the Fire Nation catches on to her scheme. Additionally, the Broken Bonds event banner allows players to collect Kyoshi's Sages, Kelsang and Jiangzu, from the Rise of Kyoshi, available for a limited time. Avatar Generations and The Hegemon's Folly update are available now for free for iOS and Android devices. You can download it today from the App Store or the Google Play Store, or download it directly from my link in the description. Avatar has a vast spectrum of men, and many of them present themselves in different ways, and they all carry different temperaments. But in each of Avatar's greatest men, there is a common trait amongst them all. These are all loving, kind, empathetic men. Professor Judith Lorber wrote that gender is so pervasive that in our society we assume it is bred into our genes. Most people find it hard to believe that gender is constantly created and recreated out of human interaction, out of social life, and it's the texture and order of that social life. Yet, gender like culture is a human production that depends on everyone constantly doing gender, performing gender. The men of this series perform masculinity based on the way they've been taught, and the two I want to begin with are Saka and Zuko. Seeing the men of the Southern Water Tribe go off to fight in the war, and being without his father or mother for some of the most important formative years of his life, left Saka as the only man left in the tribe. Hardly a man at 14 years old when his father left, but Saka has learned what it is to be a man through what he has seen, and he has only ever seen his father in one very distinct, very traditionally masculine role. He's only ever seen Hakoda be a protector, a chief, and a warrior. Because as long as he's been alive, they've been at war. He's only seen the men of his tribe go on to fight. So Saka now has to fill in the gaps about gender and about manhood, based on the new role he has earned, and what he has seen. From Joseph Plex the myth of masculinity, he states that a boy in his attempt to gain an elusive masculine identification often comes to define his masculinity largely in negative terms, as that which is not feminine or involved with women. Sociologist Nancy Chodoro pointed out, being a boy means not being weak, not feeling, not needing, not being a girl. Men are taught to actively despise these human qualities. To return to Plex, he continues on by saying, the boy often does this by repressing whatever takes to be feminine inside himself, and by denigrating whatever he considers to be feminine in the outside world. Boys develop hostility towards girl-like activities, and develop hostility towards all females as representatives of this disliked role. In order to become like the man before him, like the man before him, Saka represses everything that he actually is in order to become what he believes he should be. Women to him become useless, weak, and in need of protection. When Katara is sowing a hole in his pants, he immediately shows contempt towards him, stating that sowing is for girls, as they are better at fixing pants and stuff like that, that it's just the nature of things. In the very first episode he blames his shortcomings on Katara, stating that girls just screw things up. Saka at his core is an emotional man, we see it in the second and third seasons, or with the group when he feels inadequate, the various ways he shows Tsuki that he loves her. In these later seasons, it's not a problem for him to be interested in shopping, and matching his belt with his bag. But at the beginning of this series, he struggled with accepting that it is okay to be a man and to enjoy these things, and even after he does accept this part of himself, he still continues to struggle. But before all of this, Saka has this tremendous pressure placed on his shoulders, asking a then 14 year old kid to be a protector of an entire tribe, tasked by not only his father and by his tribe, but by grand-grand also. So he believes that his worth, that his masculinity, it's tied to his strength as a protector, as a warrior, and a leader. And constantly he gets humbled by men, by women, by the situations that he encounters. Tsuki takes him down with ease in the Kiyoshi Warrior episode. He's jealous of Jet who proves himself to be a better leader and fighter than him. Toph and Katara develop as two of the most powerful benders in the world. They get hunted down by Azula, Mei and Tai Li who embarrass him. They're all stronger than him. He loses time and time again, and when he gets the one chance to actually flex his protector muscles, Yui decides to give her life away to become the moon. He fails. Over the course of this series, suddenly he becomes the protected. This pressure to be a very specific type of man is a pressure placed often by society, and those who create this pressure, more often than not, are other men. This idea that if you are not a public leader, a boss, someone with power or wealth or status, then suddenly you are not a man, not a real man. But you can gain that power in the realm of violence, and you can gain power over other men and assert your dominance over women. That'll temporarily quell your feelings of inadequacy. Leave it to a girl to screw things up, right? An easy scapegoat to feel manly. When Saka walks into the watertrip camp in the guru to greet his father, he squares off with the other men of the tribe, trying to show off that he has grown taller, that he is strong, that he is now a man. To be clear, this is not to criticize the men of the southern watertrip, as Hakoda, Bato, and others have shown us that they perform a healthy version of masculinity. But instead, this reflects on the type of man Saka believes he needs to be. He needs to be taller and stronger, and he wants to show off to the men that he has achieved that status. And while he grows a ton throughout the series in this regard, still, by the time we reach Saka's master in the third season, the crushing weight of being a man still deflates him. From his perspective, the men in his life perform masculinity better than he does. His father is a stocky warrior, a battle-hardened chief, when he speaks to people listen. He is a great leader. Aang is the avatar, the most powerful person alive, the ideal protector, the ideal warrior. And so he asks himself, in the realm of traditional masculinity, he is not dominating, he is not strong, he is not a protector, and he is not a great leader. So who is Saka? Can he even call himself a real man? And how can I get through to you by Terence Reel? He writes, The way we turn boys into men is through injury. We sever them from their mothers, research tells us far too early. We pull them from their own expressiveness, from their feelings, and from sensitivity to others. The very phrase be a man means to suck it up and to keep going. Disconnection is not fallout from traditional masculinity. Disconnection is masculinity. That line we sever them from their mothers far too early. Every time I read it, I think of Zuko. Of course, he wasn't pulled away through traditional means, but I think the general point still applies. When we compare the child that Zuko was when Ursa was around, he was a sensitive kid, an emotionally intelligent and expressive child. He was very much his mother's child. Compassionate to Iroh when Luten died, recognizing his uncle's sadness, having just lost his only son. But when he was pulled away from Ursa and left with his father, and then left without his honor, he became a mirror image of the ideal Fire Nation man. Being burned by his own father, in front of what felt like the entire country, was in a sense emasculating for the Fire Nation prince. If engaging in Agni Kai's to settle grievances is being a man, then Zuko, in front of the entire Fire Nation army and royals, in their view had renounced his masculinity. He had become a coward. Even if it was his father, a real man would have stood up to the challenge and fought for his honor. In the first Agni Kai of the series against Zhao, Zuko wins and spares the general. Zhao calls Zuko a coward. Again in this culture, honor is tied to one's manhood. Because finishing somebody off, burning them, hurting them or even killing them, being ruthless, that is the mark of a true man. The Fire Nation is ruled by men who employ this patriarchal masculinity, as Bell Hooks describes it, a performance of masculinity that moreso reflects our reality than most other nations. Azulon, Sozin, Ozai, even Iroh, they've all been taught the same things, that power is paramount in this world, and as men it is their duty, no, it's their right to conquer, dominate, and control everything. You can say that the Fire Nation's desire to dominate and conquer and colonize stems from this very brand of masculinity that they practice. It's rage, it's fury, and it's violence. It's imposing one's will onto others. Hooks notes that there is only one emotion that is recognized or respected by men, that is anger. It is the only valid emotion that a man can express. Real men get mad, and no matter how violent and how violating, it is recognized as a positive expression of masculinity. Anger prevents love and isolates the one who is angry. It is an attempt, often successful, to push away what is most longed for, companionship and understanding. Anger is the agony of believing that you are not capable of being understood, and that you are not worthy of being understood. Zuko was led to believe that in order to regain his status, his honor, his masculinity, he needed to become like the men before him. Zuko believed like many men that it was better to be feared than to be loved, that anger was the mark of a real man. And so he cut off all of his other emotions. What Zuko needed to do after having lost his mother and having been abandoned by his father was grief, to mourn these losses, to cry. But in a world where anger is the only emotion that is accepted and recognized, and where grief is seen as feminine rather than human, there was no space for it. But there is a space for fury, and his father and Zhao and so many of the Fire Nation men are proof of that. The desperation for his masculinity, for his honor back, turns him into someone unrecognizable if you compare him to his younger self. A kid who was once so kind and sweet, is now willing to destroy villages and tribes in order to regain entry into the land of manhood, in order to escape the pain and the isolation that he feels every day. And in the second season, he even breaks away from Iroh, believing that he needs to be alone on his journey, that he shouldn't have to rely on another man. And that too stems from these harmful ideas that he has been taught. Again, masculinity is disconnection. A man does not need to ask for help, nor should he seek it. Only in isolation will he prove to himself who he actually is. But again, like Saka, it begs the question. With the avatar quote on quote dead, his father has given him his honor and his masculinity back. But is this the kind of man that Zuko wants to be? There is a line from Moonlight that I think back to so often when I think about what it means to be a man. One, a drug dealer who serves as a father figure to a young, exploring child tells him that at some point in time, you've got to decide for yourself who you want to be. You can't let anyone make that decision for you. When you decide for yourself who you are, and you are confident in that identity, there is not a single person on this planet who can tell you otherwise. No one can tell you how to be a man, but remember that no one comes into this world already strong and not needing intimacy or love. We all long to be understood, to be vulnerable. These are not gender traits, these are human needs, that we as men rip out of ourselves to try and fit and live up to a standard that will ultimately end up killing us, physically or mentally. Avatar's best men have decided to embrace these qualities. They've decided what kind of men they will be, and oftentimes, they help others do that as well. Hakoda and Piandau teach Saka what it is to truly be a man, through their words and through examples. Hakoda tells a young Saka that being a man is knowing where you're needed the most. For Saka, that was learning to be a yielding vulnerable individual, to simply be himself. To accept that rarely, in a team with the strongest benders in the world, would he be a protector. On the battlefield, Saka was needed most as a tactician. Hakoda gives Saka space and he gives him the confidence to lead and to take command when necessary. Hakoda is vulnerable enough to let Saka not only take the reigns, but let him plan out an entire invasion of the fire nation. And even when things don't go as planned, he still has the utmost trust and confidence in his son, calling him a genius even after he fails, uplifting him. Hakoda teaches his son that it is okay to retreat and avoid battle to live to fight another day. To concede doesn't make you less of a man. Most of all, Hakoda assures Saka that he is very much a man and a good one, because of the type of person that he is. Because of his heart, his kindness, his perspective, his warmth, not because of what he can do. Piendao's training and mainly his validation helped Saka gain some much needed confidence in himself and his abilities and showed him just another respectful, worldly man that he should aspire to be like. I do however want to credit Saka himself that much of his growth was individually done. He had to take his losses and his embarrassments on the chin and over time through the lessons that he learned and through the new and healthy examples of man in his life. And he's grown so much into a respectful, gentle, kind man who will always be protective of those he loves the most. Now with healthy ways to express who he is and who he wants to be, learning truly that being a man is knowing where you're needed the most. For Zuko, much of that work has been done through the careful guidance of Iroh. In Iroh, Zuko sees the example first hand of positive, healthy masculinity. And what makes Iroh the perfect figure for Zuko to look towards is that Iroh is cut from the same cloth that he was. He was taught the same things as brother Tadzuko. He was a man driven by the fury of the Fire Nation. He too was once obsessed with the machismo of their country. Domination, power and strength were things that Iroh desired and that manifested in him leading his army into the 500 day siege. Zuko was sending his uncle letters throughout that time. So he watched his uncle rise through fire to the greatest ranks of the Fire Nation. And he saw his uncle do what no man in Fire Nation history could in getting through the outer wall of Ba Sing Se. But he also watched his uncle fail. And most of all, he saw his uncle change. Iroh in this series is given a role that not many men are given in media. The role of the healer. It's not his experience as a master firebender as Dragon of the West that helps Zuko. It's all of the other qualities that are traditionally non-masculine that help Zuko. First off, it's his grace. Iroh gives Zuko plenty of room to make his own decisions and guides him onto the correct path when necessary. When Zuko joins the gang, on some nights he offers them all tea. It's probably something he saw Iroh do for the crew. It's Iroh's kindness and his love that rubs off on Zuko, bringing him back closer to the man that he was before he lost his mother and his honor. Iroh's vulnerability with his nephew hasn't constantly reassuring Zuko that even though he lost his mother and his pride and his family, that he is still loved and that he is still deserving of love. Zuko standing up to his father, standing up against everything he's ever known, reclaiming his masculinity in front of his father, choosing Iroh's performance of masculinity over his father's, choosing peace and love over anger and domination, that moment made Zuko a man. Messner writes that men often feel empty, isolated and alienated because the socially learned means through which they seek validation and identity do not deliver what is actually needed, intimate connection and unity with others. This is what Zuko desperately craved underneath all that anger, to feel understood and loved. When he joins the gang and gets to spend quality time with them all, he feels the incredible warmth of a community. He feels understood by Saka, who's had a similar journey as he has, or Aang, who radiates the very same brand of kindness that his uncle does. Together, they're able to allow Zuko to not only grow tremendously, but they also just allow him to be a fun loving kid for a moment, and all of that brings him closer to Iroh. Iroh is a man who cries, who buys flowers, who loves helping people, a man who avoids conflict at all costs. Iroh once helped a man who tried to mug him by offering him tea and advice, and most of all, Iroh is a man who is empathetic. But at the same time, he is one of the most powerful benders in the world, and when it's time for him to be the dragon of the west, to be stern and tough, he is not afraid of being so, like when threatening Jiao in the Northern Water Tribe, or when confronting Zuko about letting Appa go and looking inwards. Even after everything he's been through, even after being deserted by his own nephew, Iroh is quick to forgive and quick to love, again showing Zuko a tremendous amount of grace. No matter what insults are thrown to him by Azula, by Jiao, by Ozai, Iroh's masculinity is unwavering. He doesn't even question it. His sense of self is so persistent. He knows exactly what it is to be a man, and for me, it's that courage and the strength to be kind, to choose kindness. It's easy to cut yourself off from your emotions and to respond to every challenge with fire. Like Iroh very well could, it's incredibly difficult to forgive those you love after you've been wronged. To him that is what being a man is. Listen to the words that have been said describing Iroh. Empathetic, loving, gentle, kind, forgiving, a good man. And finally I want to end with Aang. The Air Nomad culture, by nature, has already denied many of the negative, poisonous traits that traditional masculinity preaches, and Aang was fortunate to have Gyatso play a large role in his life. Gyatso was a man who understood that while Aang was the avatar, he was still just a kid, and Gyatso made sure to cultivate time and space for Aang to have fun, to goof around, and to not feel the immense pressure that comes with being the avatar. And that idea resonates so strongly with the young airbender. That kindness, that tenderness, that overall love of life that Aang carries, is spread throughout everyone he comes into contact with. Whether it's goofing off with Saka, letting Saka and Zuko know that it's okay to be a kid, going on adventures with them, or asking Toph to take her life into her own hands, Aang is incredibly confident in who he is and in the values that he's been taught. While Aang still had to become more assertive and confrontational, he still remained a fundamentally gentle and kind soul. And at the same time, Aang in a sense is the pinnacle of masculinity, of the traditional masculinity. He is the strongest man on the planet. He can destroy, dominate, and he is brave. But there's something about making the most powerful bender in this series a very gentle and tender and kind-hearted kid. No one would dare say Aang isn't a man. In the realm of power and violence, the places where, quote, real men are made, Aang stands at the top. At the summit. This kid. A pacifist. A monk. I said it for Iroh, but it's true for Aang as well. How easy it would be for him to submit to his rage and his anger like his opponents. He is the most powerful bender on the planet and his entire family, his culture, has been erased. Yet he chooses kindness. He chooses peace. He likes to wear flower crowns and sing songs with travelers. And he's incredibly emotional and empathetic. The kid who will uphold his values of peace to the best he can, even if people will shame him for it. And there's nothing that anybody can do because he is the strongest man in the world. While being the kindest. But all of these characters, all these kind-hearted characters, they let us know that maleness or manhood is not inherently a bad thing or something that needs to be ended. Masculinity instead is something that needs to be redefined, reexamined, reclaimed, as Hooks writes. Instead of strength and aggression and insensitivity, it needs to become kindness and love and dependence, safety and nurturing. It needs to be simply being a good person. The men who practice this patriarchal masculinity, the ones who've cut themselves off from feeling they lose, or they're incredibly unhappy. Many of these characters were once in their shoes. Iroh lost his son because of it. Sako was lost, having trouble finding his place in his identity. Zuko felt like a failure, and felt like he would never become a worthy honorable man again. Paku turned out to be a lonely man when he decided to uphold the sexist cultures of the Northern Water Tribe. Zhao died in the pursuit of domination. Ozai will rot in jail. This form of masculinity, any way you spin it, is loss, whether it's the loss of self or of the spirit. Not all men will have the same personalities or will be built the same. Not everyone can be as bubbly and fun-loving as Ang, and not everyone will be as edgy or mysterious as Zuko. One thing's for sure is that we can't all be the strongest, we can't all be the leader, we can't all dominate. So these arbitrary rules on what a man is truly supposed to be, they don't mean anything. They don't make sense. But everyone can be kind. Everyone can have empathy. Zuko, Saka, Hakota, Piandau, Bumi, Iroh, and Ang, they are all radically different people. But the one common trait that they all carry, and I've said this so much I know, but at their core, they are simply good, kind, loving people. Loving men. They know when it is time to be strong and tough, and they are not afraid of being so. But at all times, they are understanding and empathetic. They know where they are needed most. They've all chosen this path. To me, that is what being a man truly is. Just to be a good person.