Neverland
Standing Under the Fig Tree
There is quite a lot of talk about how young men are struggling today in the United States. No one seems to have a clear reason as to why, or at least they can’t seem to agree. The Right claims that it is the continual societal repression of masculinity, the Left believes that it’s Men clinging on to beliefs of the past, unable and unwilling to move forward.
Like seemingly everything in our country these days, this crisis that men face has become needlessly politicized beyond reason. While some political figures do offer a seemingly healthy path forward, their voices are surrounded in controversy, and it is not apparent as to who the hell we are supposed to listen to.
It is my unfortunate pleasure to admit, to declare, that I am one of these Young Men. It is my demographic that is killing themselves at staggering rates. It is my demographic that is dying from all sorts of deaths of despair, from drowning ourselves in alcohol or injecting poison in our veins. It’s my demographic that is alone, by ourselves, isolated from the world, cut off from old friends and without a Tribe to call home.
I am one of the Lucky ones. I have an amazing girlfriend, a supportive and loving family, and strong connections that I would suffer from losing. Yet, I feel the pain. It may be different than the pain so many of my fellow young men feel across the country, but it is there. And the center of it is a simple question: Who Do you Want to Be?
I, like so many young people I’ve met, have a burning desire to leave a strong and good impact on the world, to make things better, to give back. Yet the seemingly endless supply of options that are before me are paralyzing, not exciting.
I remember reading The Bell Jar in High School. The Quote Below seems to come close to how I feel about my current predicament:
“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
— Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
Who Do You Want to Be? The question almost feels like it is being asked by God. From above, beckoning me to make some type of decision, any decision at all. But like Esther Greenwood, making any decision seems paralyzing.
Who Do You Want to Be? I could be a filmmaker, a writer, a professor, a teacher, a businessman, an artist, thinker, creator. I want to be all of these at the same time, and the time in my life has come to pick one. The unfortunate reality also is that these aren’t exactly easy or, quite frankly, realistic paths forward. But neither is the 9 to 5.
Many people in my life just want me gainfully employed somewhere. Anywhere. I’m currently making ends meet by being a substitute teacher, a stand in, a stunt double for education. I quite like the job, believe it or not, but the pay is something a Freshman in college would need to pay for long nights studying in Fried Chicken Joints. But the 9-5 rat race seems like it is no longer the smart or safe path. I feel like Noah in the story of the ARK, and I feel great trepidation entrusting my future to a Corporation, or even the United States Government. We are no longer in the 1980s. But I cannot stay a Sub forever. The time has come for me to move on. To grow, to expand the reaches of my soul. But what direction to take?
I can only imagine what pain and suffering other young men must be facing today. We are creatures of deep purpose, and it seems as though we live in a time where that purpose is ours to create for ourselves. No more is the time of 9-5 jobs being able to sustain a family. No more is the time of economic prosperity and the certainty of American Power. We live in the Wild West all over again, where a man’s purpose is his to forge himself - a stark contrast to the simpler world of my childhood.
This is the journey I am on. I want to pursue the edges of my curiosity. To grow the unknown areas of my mind. Only, this isn’t exactly a lucrative goal.
I can’t help but feel that I’m not alone here. That there are countless young people across the world who have no idea what the hell they are doing. People that followed all of the advice of their elders, did good in High School, got the college degree, and now here we are. In my case, I have a degree in Cinema and a degree in History, but it seems as though these are only simple pieces of paper. A part of me is kicking myself in the rear for pursuing what seems to be “useless” degrees. Another part of me is proud that I took a risk and followed my interests.
I’m doing that same thing here, I suppose. I joined Substack to Write, to get better at writing, but more importantly, to sort through my curiosities. To help myself (and anyone who cares to follow along) make sense of a world that seems impossible to make sense of.
I’ll post book reviews, mini-bios of historical figures, thoughts about things I’m curious about, anything and everything that comes from within my skull. That is the only rule: It has to be genuine. No lies and no writing about something I have no idea about. Just honest reflections of honest (or so I hope) perceptions.
If that sounds vaguely interesting to you, I’d greatly appreciate you following along by subscribing.
Hopefully the mental health crisis that so many individuals have wrought on them will subside in the coming years. I invite you to dive into anything that sparks your curiosity, anything at all. That may be the most genuine expression of your soul trying to nudge you in some particular direction. Go down the rabbit holes, read until your fingers get papercuts, and don’t stop until you are convinced that you know everything you need to know. If you are honest, that will be the day you die.
