Rosalind Wiseman

Waiting in line at my neighborhood coffee shop the other morning I overheard this conversation between two middle aged men, who I suspect were coworkers:

Man #1 (to cashier): I’ll have a medium skim vanilla latte, please.
Man #2 (to friend, incredulously): Skim latte? Who’s that for, a girl!?
Man #2 (to cashier): Large Americano.

Photo by: the half-blood prince, flickr.com

In less than 10 words Man #2 had managed to gender a beverage, humiliate his friend, and assert his own masculinity. That’s how easy – and powerful – our culture is at creating and enforcing rules for acceptable behavior.

I’ve seen it happen everywhere, and I’m sure you have, too. When was the last time you saw a man order a Cosmopolitan at a bar? I’m guessing never. Have you even been out to dinner with a group of women and all of them order a salad? More times than I can count.

While the specific rules change across geographic, racial, and socio-economic lines, the process is always the same. The rules tell us what we should do, say, wear, eat, drink, and buy to be valued in our community and in the larger culture. If you break those rules, you’re open for ridicule by others. Your peers act as police – they enforce the rules when you break them (e.g.: call you out on it) and impose a punishment (public humiliation). For a guy in mainstream culture, the sharpest punishment is an attack on his masculinity or sexuality, such as calling him “like a girl” or “gay.”

It takes an incredible amount of personal strength and self-assurance to stand up against someone – your boss, your best friend, your wife – and tell them, “No, my preference for a certain coffee drink does not, in fact, have any implication on my gender association or sexual identity, thankyouverymuch.” Or, more succinctly, “Shove it!”

So most of us, even if we disagree with these rules and how they operate, will say nothing. In doing so, not only do we lose our ability to express our true feelings, but we also miss out on the things we’re really interested in, like delicious caramel Frappuccinos®. By conforming to or not challenging these rules, we risk our personal authenticity.

It’s important to note that in mainstream American culture, the rules for men are often much more strict than for women. That is, a woman has greater flexibility to cross gender lines than a man. So, a woman who orders a regular black coffee isn’t likely to be mocked by her girlfriends for doing so.

Now, a lot of you may read this and think one of the following:

1. It’s just teasing. Am I not allowed to joke around with my friends?
2. You are making WAY too big a deal out of this – it’s just coffee.
3. No one ever tells me what I can or can’t do. I’m in control. This doesn’t apply to me.

First, of course we’re allowed to joke around with our friends, and that’s one of the most important qualities of friendship. But we also have to be aware of our actions – conscious of why we say the things we do and how our words are perceived by others. That is, why did Man #2 feel compelled to call out his friend? What influenced his decision? How was Man #1 affected?

Second, each individual incident or rule may arguably be insignificant. But the problem is that none of these act in isolation. Rather, it is the collective power of these rules to control so many of our actions that can be troubling.

Finally, if you think you’re in absolute control of your life, I have a big news flash for you: most of these rules have been so engrained in us our whole lives that at a certain point they become internalized. (This usually happens by the time we’re in high school.) So as a man, no one needs to tell you not to order that frozen strawberry daiquiri at the bar, you just would never do it. It may not even occur to you that you have a choice. For me, this is the ultimate manipulation by the culture.

Now, all of us were brought up in a culture with its own set of rules, and it’s extremely hard to break that cycle — but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. I may never be able to watch television, attend a dinner party, or sit in a coffee shop the same way again. But hey, it’s a small price to pay for your personal authenticity.