Patriarchy Blues: Frederick Joseph on the boxes we put around American boys and men

I’ve been reflecting on American masculinity recently—the narrow definitions and expectations placed on boys to be “real men.”

You see this in the reactions to recent mass shootings, where the conversation often turns to guns being an intrinsic part of our culture. Gun advertisements urge men to “take back their man card” by purchasing firearms.

You hear it in the rhetoric of politicians like Josh Hawley or pundits like Tucker Carlson, who speak of a supposed “War on Men.” This is echoed by groups like the Proud Boys and the alt-right or in ads that exploit men’s insecurities to sell supplements promising to boost testosterone.

Even gender reveal parties, which have sparked wildfires in the American West, reflect an obsession with rigid gender roles.

We often tell people to “man up” or “boys don’t cry.” Recently, state legislators have focused on transgender issues, attempting to enforce traditional concepts of masculinity and femininity.

But the reality has always been more complex than that. I was excited to read Frederick Joseph’s new bestseller, Patriarchy Blues: Reflections on Manhood. You might know Joseph from his work on the Black Panther project, which raised over a million dollars to help young Black children see Black Panther in theaters. He led a similar initiative for young girls to see Captain Marvel and raised funds to help people pay their rent during the early days of the pandemic. Joseph has devoted much of his work to community support.

His first book, The Black Friend, is one of those books about race that is increasingly being banned in school districts nationwide. Joseph isn’t afraid to tackle significant issues or confront his demons.

Patriarchy Blues is a collection of essays that explore what it means to be a man in America. It examines the false binaries we often accept between masculine and feminine traits. Joseph argues that embracing womanist philosophies could help us move beyond these stereotypes, allowing everyone to experience the full range of human emotions—crying, laughing, anger, pain, love, and joy.

Joseph joined us on The Reckon Interview this week to discuss Patriarchy Blues. Below is an edited transcript of the episode for length and clarity.

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Reckon: We’re here to discuss your new book, Patriarchy Blues: Reflections on Manhood. It seems like your journey toward this book began with a multiple sclerosis diagnosis in your early 20s. Early in the book, you mention that this diagnosis prompted you to reflect on who you were and how you might be remembered, and you didn’t necessarily like what you saw. Can you tell us more about that diagnosis and how it changed your life?

Frederick Joseph: Absolutely. I think there were two major turning points in my life. The first was starting college, where I began to unpack and unlearn white supremacy. The second was my MS diagnosis, which forced me to look inward. I realized that, while I had been focused on fighting white supremacy, it was primarily because it benefited me. I hadn’t considered the broader implications for others. I began to ask myself what more I could do to help dismantle the metaphorical shackles that bind so many people.

Reckon: The title of your book is Patriarchy Blues. “Patriarchy” is a term that carries different meanings for different people in different contexts. How do you define patriarchy for this conversation, and what does it mean to work against it?

Joseph: It’s a complex term, and in every interview I do, people ask me to define it. I see patriarchy as an intersectional issue—it’s an oppressive structure with many facets, including transphobia, homophobia, misogyny, misogynoir, rape culture, and toxic masculinity. It’s an umbrella term encompassing many harmful elements that collectively work to destroy society.

Reckon: Patriarchy has been a part of society for as long as society has existed. In your book, you explore the historical roots of patriarchy. What did you learn about its origins?

Joseph: It’s fascinating. I was discussing this last night. Many oppressive structures—patriarchy, white supremacy, the current form of capitalism—are often seen as ancient, but they aren’t. Contemporary forms of patriarchy can be traced back, and through my research, I found that societies we consider ancient were more accepting of diverse identities. For instance, some of the oldest societies respected transgender people. Even in what are considered “great societies” like ancient Greece, there was more freedom in sexuality. The restrictive, oppressive views we see today only emerged over the past few thousand years, and more recently in the United States, mainly with the rise of global Christianity.

Reckon: You mentioned societies like the Greeks and Romans, but it’s also interesting that many indigenous communities in the United States held reverence for intersex or transgender people, which changed with European colonization. You discuss masculinity and femininity as social constructs tied to a false binary. Can you elaborate on differentiating what’s worth preserving from past gender roles and what should be discarded?

Joseph: Our society doesn’t have traditional hunters and gatherers, so many old gender roles are obsolete. Contemporary gender roles, like who cooks or cleans, don’t make sense either. Historically, women were assigned these roles because men were out of “breadwinning,” but that was due to power dynamics, not capability. There was no inherent reason why traditional roles couldn’t have been reversed. These constructs are limiting and don’t reflect the diversity of human experiences.

Take my own life as an example. I grew up being told boys don’t cry or express certain emotions. However, teaching young men not to cry and young women that they shouldn’t express anger limits the full range of human experiences. For instance, when the Buffalo mass shooting happened, I cried out of sadness and rage. If I hadn’t allowed myself to cry, I would have only had rage. And when all you have is rage, what do you do with it? That’s why many men are so angry today, and many women feel they can’t express certain emotions.

Reckon: It feels like, over the past few decades, society has made more progress in expanding the possibilities for young girls and women, allowing them to explore a broader range of emotions and roles. However, men seem increasingly confined to narrow definitions of being a “real man.” You mentioned growing up enjoying musicals, which didn’t fit the mold for a Black man in Yonkers or even a white man in suburban Alabama. You write about people hiding parts of themselves because they don’t fit into these rigid boxes. How do patriarchy and sexism hurt everyone, including cisgender, heterosexual men?

Joseph: Often, when we talk about dismantling structures like white supremacy or patriarchy, we frame it as though those who benefit from them are doing a favor for those who don’t. In reality, there are benefits for everyone in dismantling these structures. For instance, white people can be more fully human if they don’t spend their time hating another race. Similarly, patriarchy doesn’t just harm women or LGBTQ+ people; it also harms cisgender, heterosexual men.

If it were up to me, I’d be on Broadway, living my best life. But because of the lies that patriarchy tells about what it means to be a “real man” or a “real Black man,” that opportunity was taken from me, just as it has been taken from countless others. When we look at high suicide rates among men, it makes sense—they’re often left with anger and sadness and no other emotional outlets. We’ve limited men to being angry, sad shells of what a human being could be.

Reckon: There seems to be a growing awareness of what you’re describing, especially whenever there’s a mass shooting or when we discuss high rates of suicide and overdose among young men. You’ve addressed how trying to fit into these boxes created by patriarchy causes mental health struggles for men. However, some people argue that talking about “toxic masculinity” or the “war on men” makes young men feel targeted or broken. What would you say to those who make that argument, especially those who mean it in good faith?

Joseph: Those who believe in a “war on men” are still thinking from a patriarchal viewpoint. There’s no war on men when we’re encouraging them to go to therapy or pursue interests like cooking without being mocked. What we’re seeing isn’t a war on men; it’s a liberation for men. It’s about expanding the definition of what it means to be a man rather than confining it. I love sports and barbecue, but I also enjoy an excellent spritzer and a ballet. It’s not about limiting men but about expanding the possibilities for what men can be.

Reckon: When did this journey start for you? You’ve mentioned your MS diagnosis and college as pivotal moments. What began to change your perspective?

Joseph: My perspective wasn’t explicitly shaped by these ideas growing up, but it was always in the background. I grew up in a household that claimed not to be homophobic, for example, but there was still an underlying bias. It’s like people think not using slurs means they aren’t prejudiced, but there’s more to it than that.

I began to see this more clearly when certain things happened to me. For example, during my MS diagnosis, a young white female doctor fetishized me instead of focusing on diagnosing me. When I shared this experience, people didn’t see the problem, making me question what I saw. That led me to dive deeper into works by authors like bell hooks and Alice Walker, which helped me understand the complexities I was facing.

Reckon: What would a societal reckoning with patriarchy look like to you?

Joseph: A reckoning would require an intersectional approach to examining how patriarchy exists. We haven’t fully confronted any of these systems—patriarchy, white supremacy, etc. For example, consider the leaked draft opinion on Roe v. Wade and the protests from white feminism, which often dominate the conversation. There’s a need for a broader, more intersectional feminism or womanism that addresses everyone impacted by these issues. A true reckoning would involve everyone examining how they uphold these systems and working together to dismantle them.

Reckon: You mentioned your upbringing and how many lessons on patriarchy and masculinity were learned from the women in your life. Can you tell us more about that?

Joseph: I was raised by my mother and grandmother. My mom had me at 18, and my grandmother was in her late 60s by the time I was born. They were navigating the legacies of Jim Crow, the war on drugs, and segregation. They weren’t necessarily aware of how white patriarchal structures had infiltrated their thinking. They were focused on survival and being good people. So, many of the lessons I learned, like how to survive as a Black man in America, inadvertently leaned into patriarchy, white supremacy, and capitalism.

Reckon: If you were raising a child today, how would you approach the tension between teaching them to survive in a violent society and teaching them to dismantle these harmful structures?

Joseph: That’s a tricky question because we live in a violent society, especially in the United States. If you have young Black children, you have to consider both how to help them create a better society and how to keep them safe. It’s a balance between teaching them the necessity of self-defense and the importance of choosing non-violence whenever possible. My mother didn’t have the tools to teach me that balance, but I do, thanks to my privileges and opportunities. I hope to pass those lessons on to future generations.

Reckon: How do you make room for people to learn and grow while holding them accountable?

Joseph: Honesty and vulnerability are essential. It’s about being open about who you’ve been and why. Some fights are worth having—defending a Black woman from harm, for example—but knowing when and how to fight is essential. Nuance is crucial. In conversations with friends, potential children, and followers, I emphasize understanding situations from multiple perspectives. We need to unpack and discuss these complexities openly.

Reckon: You also discuss the dual nature of social media—its potential to expand possibilities while reinforcing limiting ideas. Can you talk about that?

Joseph: Social media is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it allows for unprecedented communication and growth. On the other hand, it can spread harmful ideas quickly. For example, someone criticized my author photo for not looking like an “author,” which led to a productive conversation about stereotypes. However, on platforms like Facebook, these ideas can be echoed and validated in harmful ways. Social media can both challenge and reinforce societal norms.

Reckon: You’re known for the Black Panther Project, where you raised funds to help young Black children see Black Panther. Given the themes of masculinity and violence in the film, how do you reconcile that with your work against gender norms?

Joseph: It comes down to nuance. Black Panther is a film primarily aimed at young people, and it’s essential to discuss what they see in the film. At the end of the film, there’s a moment of realization between T’Challa and Killmonger that things didn’t have to escalate to violence. It’s a powerful message about the importance of dialogue and understanding, even amid conflict.

Reckon: Finally, through writing this book and examining these issues, how have you changed, and what changes do you hope to see?

Joseph: Writing this book has made me more hopeful about dismantling white supremacy and patriarchy. Seeing my growth and the growth in my immediate circles, where everyone feels safe and free, gives me hope for broader societal change. I hope that people use this book as a mirror to examine their role in these systems and take steps to grow and pivot toward more equitable practices.