The Men Patriarchy Can Spend
Just before midnight on Labor Day weekend, agents began shaking the tents of five Western Washington families.
The families were camping at Red Bridge in the Mount Baker–Snoqualmie National Forest. Earlier, family members told KING 5, two U.S. Forest Service rangers had approached over a garbage issue, asked the adults for identification, and photographed some of their IDs. The rangers said the photographs would allow them to mail citations if necessary. Hours later, officers identifying themselves as immigration agents ordered the families out of their tents. Forest Service personnel were there too.1
They took five men from five families. They left the women and children—some of the children as young as one—to carry the fear, the practical chaos, the lost income, and the work of getting everyone home.
Neither ICE nor the Forest Service had explained by publication why only the men were taken, whether the identification photographs were shared, or how the agencies coordinated. We do not know what part gender played in the decision. We do know what the decision did.
It removed the men and forced the women to become the emergency infrastructure of five wounded households. Family members described the detained men as their principal earners. Their removal struck first at the men’s freedom and then at the families organized around their labor. The state did not merely take five individuals. It reached through them into the lives that depended on them.
The pattern is ancient enough to be recognizable. Across radically different institutions and eras, adult men have been classified as fighters, threats, laborers, political actors, household representatives, prisoners, conscripts, or providers. These roles can confer status and authority. In the hands of coercive power, they can also become the reason a man is watched, recruited, confined, worked, separated, or killed. Women are caught inside the same machinery through another set of assignments—mother, dependent, caregiver, sexual object, reproductive capacity—and made to survive what the machinery does to them and to everyone placed in their care.
These histories are not interchangeable in scale, law, or intent. Their continuity lies in the patriarchal habit of converting human beings into gendered functions. The man becomes the body that can be used or removed. The woman becomes the body expected to endure, reproduce, and hold together whatever remains.
That habit continues inside the modern debate over male loneliness. The familiar accusation is that feminism weakened men’s traditional roles and left men without status, purpose, or women. But the accusation mistakes the collapse of a brittle structure for the crime of those who exposed it. If a man’s route to adulthood, intimacy, and public value depends on being a breadwinner, protector, husband, and uncomplaining source of strength, then his belonging was conditional from the beginning. When wages fall, a marriage ends, a body becomes disabled, or a woman no longer has to exchange dependence for security, he may discover that the role was carrying nearly his entire social life.
Feminism did not invent that fragility. It made it harder to confuse conditional usefulness with love.
The first to be taken
The starkest version of this logic appears in war. In July 1995, Bosnian Serb forces overran the United Nations “safe area” of Srebrenica. They separated Bosnian Muslim men and boys from women, children, and elderly people. They expelled as many as 25,000 members of the latter group and executed an estimated 7,000 to 8,000 of the former.2
Male identity became evidence of combatant potential, pulling boys and elderly men into the same lethal presumption. Women were terrorized, dispossessed, expelled, bereaved, and forced to carry a shattered community forward. The killing and the expulsion were interlocking methods of destroying a people: men and boys were eliminated as presumed fighters while women were expelled with the memory and immediate care of a shattered community.
Political scientist Charli Carpenter argues that international law and humanitarian practice have often made this pattern difficult to see. “Gender-based violence” is frequently used as a near-synonym for violence against women, while civilian men appear as the unmarked norm—or as presumptive combatants. Carpenter names sex-selective massacre and forced recruitment as gendered violence against men and boys. In her work on humanitarian evacuation, she also shows the danger of the reflex “women and children first”: adult male civilians may be excluded from protected status precisely when belligerents are most likely to target them.3
The Armenian genocide reveals another version of the sequence. During the First World War, Ottoman officials branded Armenians a potential fifth column. Armenian soldiers were disarmed and sent into labor battalions where lethal conditions and killing destroyed many of them. Men were eliminated or incapacitated before the wider population was driven into deportation.4 Women and children were then marched toward death, starved, raped, kidnapped, forcibly married or converted, and transferred into other households. Men were attacked as political and military threats; women were attacked through sexuality, reproduction, family, and national continuity.13 Gender organized how the destruction was carried out.
Under coercion, gender becomes a sorting technology. The adult man is identified as the person who might fight, flee, organize, work, provide, or retaliate. Presumed capacity becomes grounds for suspicion, and responsibility for others magnifies the damage caused by his absence. The attributes used to proclaim his importance make him useful to remove.
The expectation survives outside wartime killing. In the United States, nearly all male citizens and male immigrants ages eighteen through twenty-five must register with the Selective Service System, while women do not.14 The country has not conducted a draft since 1973, but the rule still records an official answer to the question of whose body is presumptively available for war. The male citizen is imagined not only as politically empowered but as militarily callable.
The American carceral system carries out another form of gendered removal, concentrated through race and class. In 2023, 93 percent of people serving sentences of more than a year in state or federal prison were male; the male imprisonment rate was more than thirteen times the female rate.15 Black men were imprisoned at especially high rates. Their confinement does not end at the prison wall. Research on paternal incarceration documents reduced financial support, destabilized partnerships, and burdens transferred to caregivers and children.16 Poor and racialized communities are expected to absorb the routine disappearance of men and then answer for the resulting poverty, fractured attachment, and family strain as though the state had not helped produce them.
The racial qualification is indispensable. A theory that says simply “patriarchy privileges men” cannot explain how Black men in the United States were made into ideal objects of public terror. Ida B. Wells demolished the mythology that lynching was principally a defense of white womanhood from Black male rape. Lynchings enforced racial hierarchy, punished economic or political assertion, and disciplined Black communities. The victims were overwhelmingly Black and male, though women were also lynched.17 The Black man’s supposed sexual danger helped white men stage themselves as protectors, white women as protected dependents, and racial murder as civic defense.
What Black feminism can see
Black feminist thought supplies the method this subject requires because it has always asked harder questions than Which sex has power? It asks what kind of power, over whom, under what conditions, and at whose expense. It follows gender into the plantation, the prison, the welfare office, the labor market, and the home. It sees that a system can authorize men over women while exposing particular men to capture, labor, terror, and removal.
Kimberlé Crenshaw developed intersectionality to expose frameworks that treat race and sex as separate highways and then lose the people injured at their crossing.5 “Men” do not meet power as a uniform bloc. A white executive, a disabled warehouse worker, a Black teenager, a gay immigrant, and a trans man do not receive the same allotment of authority or danger. Race, citizenship, class, sexuality, and bodily capacity determine which men are protected, which are feared, which are exploited, and which can disappear without public alarm. An account that ignores those relations mistakes the experience of the most protected men for manhood itself.
Patricia Hill Collins calls the stereotypes that make domination look deserved or natural “controlling images.”18 The mammy, matriarch, welfare mother, and jezebel did political work by turning the exploitation of Black women into supposed evidence about Black women’s character. The same method appears whenever power narrates a person into a function. The dangerous Black man, the criminal alien, the irresponsible poor father, and the stoic provider each replace a human being with a public use, making punishment or exploitation easier to justify.
Hortense Spillers goes deeper, to the destruction of kinship under Atlantic slavery. In “Mama’s Baby, Papa’s Maybe,” captivity violently severs family, name, and recognized gender position. Enslaved people become transferable flesh; the patronymic and the protections supposedly attached to fatherhood cannot operate under property law.19 The enslaved man may be male, but the social office of patriarch has been stripped from him. He cannot secure his partner, keep his children, transmit a protected name, or prevent any member of his family from being sold. Angela Davis shows the other blade of the structure: enslaved Black women were exploited as laborers alongside men while also being subjected to sexual and reproductive violence.20
Jennifer L. Morgan traces how enslaved women’s productive and reproductive capacities were made economically inseparable: their labor could be extracted, and their children could become property.21 Saidiya Hartman follows the afterlife of that conversion of people into commodities, including the archival violence that makes kinship loss everywhere and still difficult to narrate.22 Together, these thinkers destroy the clean household diagram in which a universal man simply rules a universal woman. Racial capitalism denied Black men the legal and material substance of patriarchal household authority while exploiting Black women through labor, reproduction, and coerced care. It could strip a man of the family status supposedly guaranteed by his sex and force a woman to carry a family the law refused to recognize.
Dorothy Roberts brings that insight into the present. The child-welfare system disproportionately surveils, separates, and punishes Black families while naming its coercion protection.23 “Family breakdown” is then narrated as private failure after public institutions have produced insecurity, removed caregivers, and withheld material support. When a father disappears into prison or detention and a mother is left to manage children, income, legal navigation, and grief, the family’s assigned gender roles intensify under pressure.
This is the central contradiction. Patriarchal orders elevate “man” as an abstraction—head, guardian, citizen, soldier—while treating particular men, especially subordinated men, as spendable. The privilege and the sacrifice can arise from the same designation. The protector receives authority because he is responsible for danger; his responsibility makes his body available to danger. The provider may control resources; he also learns that without resources he has no claim to respect. The fighter receives honor, and then his wounds are used as evidence that he should need nothing.
Political theorist Iris Marion Young called this the “logic of masculinist protection.” The protector offers security, casts the protected as dependent, and reserves decision-making for himself.24 The role dominates the people under his protection and disciplines the man who occupies it. He must be strong enough to justify authority, willing to absorb risk, and forbidden to become the needy person in the scene. The authority is real, but so is the demand that he never admit weakness or require care himself.
Men enact this structure as well as endure it. They police one another’s softness, consume women’s unpaid care, and sometimes answer shame with control or violence. Patriarchy recruits men into enforcing the terms of their own conditional worth by offering them power over someone else. Feminism reveals the fraud in that bargain. A man does not become free by acquiring a person beneath him. He becomes less able to recognize any relationship not organized by rank.
The crisis, measured honestly
The phrase “male loneliness crisis” bundles together the feeling of loneliness, the structure of social networks, the decline of friendship, dependence on romantic partnership, reduced help-seeking, economic displacement, and deaths by suicide or overdose. Precision does not weaken the crisis. It shows us where the injury actually lives.
In a nationally representative Pew Research Center survey of 6,204 U.S. adults conducted in September 2024, 16 percent said they felt lonely or isolated all or most of the time. Men and women reported that feeling at roughly equal rates. Men were also about as likely as women to say they had at least one close friend.6 The crisis is not that men uniquely possess the feeling of loneliness. It is that many men have been given a remarkably narrow structure through which to survive it.
The gender difference appeared in how relationships were used. Fifty-four percent of women, compared with 38 percent of men, said they would be very or extremely likely to turn to a friend for emotional support. Women were also more likely to turn to extended family or a mental-health professional. Among people with close friends, men communicated with them less often across text, phone, video, and social media.6 A man can possess a friend in survey terms and still have no practiced way to bring fear, shame, illness, or grief into the friendship.
Longitudinal life-course research adds another layer. Sociologist Debra Umberson and colleagues found that boys and men were more objectively isolated than girls and women through much of life, with pronounced risks among people who never partnered or whose unions ended.7 Men’s networks often depend heavily on a spouse or romantic partner. Heterosexual partnership becomes an emotional single point of failure: a woman is asked to serve as an entire intimacy infrastructure, while a man is left one breakup, death, or divorce away from social collapse.
Developmental research challenges the belief that boys are naturally indifferent to intimacy. In interviews collected over years, psychologist Niobe Way found adolescent boys describing emotionally intense friendships; many later spoke with greater distance from that language and closeness as they grew older.25 Her research does not establish a universal path through boyhood. It does show that boys can possess deep relational capacity and that cultural expectations of masculinity can teach some of them to suppress it.
A 2024 scoping review of thirteen mostly qualitative studies found a related pattern: norms of self-reliance, invulnerability, and restricted emotional expression made connection harder to sustain. Work, sport, and shared activity often helped men form bonds indirectly. But networks built around a job or a physically demanding activity could collapse at unemployment, injury, or retirement.8 When companionship is organized around a function, the loss of that function can take the companionship with it.
In 2024, the U.S. male suicide rate was nearly four times the female rate.9 Suicide has many causes—mental illness, substance use, lethal means, economic shock, relationship loss, and trauma among them—and men’s use of more lethal methods shapes the mortality gap. The number still exposes the danger of a social order in which men are trained to delay help, disguise despair, and arrive at care late, if they arrive at all.
Culture and material life close around one another. Unemployment and loneliness operate bidirectionally: job loss can isolate, and isolation can make work harder to find or sustain.11 Pilar Gonalons-Pons and Markus Gangl found that men’s unemployment was more strongly associated with separation in societies where male-breadwinner norms were stronger, even after accounting for immediate economic strain.10 A lost job threatens rent and food. Breadwinner culture adds another wound: if provision is what a man is for, unemployment can feel like proof that there is no reason for him to remain.
That pressure follows the fault lines of power. Low-income and unmarried adults report more loneliness than affluent and married people. U.S. public-health data find especially high loneliness among bisexual and transgender respondents and among people with low incomes.26 Disability, caregiving, rurality, racism, and immigration status reshape both the odds and the meaning of connection. The men most easily called threats, failures, burdens, or outsiders are also the men most easily abandoned.
What blaming feminism gets wrong
The anti-feminist story begins from a fact and attaches the wrong cause. Men’s social position has changed. Women’s economic independence, legal equality, and ability to refuse marriage have weakened the guarantee that a man can obtain household authority simply by occupying the male role. Industrial and union jobs that supported a family on one wage have disappeared from many communities. Marriage rates have fallen; religious and civic participation have shifted; online life has reorganized leisure; incarceration has removed millions of men from families and neighborhoods. Men feel these losses because they are losses.
But “feminism caused male loneliness” collapses all of them into women’s freedom. It also confuses access to a wife with the possession of a social world.
bell hooks wrote with unusual clarity about the wound beneath this mistake. In The Will to Change, she argued that patriarchal culture teaches boys to suppress feeling and teaches men that their value lies in what they do rather than in their capacity to love and be loved.27 A manhood organized around domination demands estrangement from the self before it ever grants power over anyone else. In We Real Cool, hooks placed that estrangement inside the racial order that fears, exploits, and punishes Black men.28 She did not need to choose between seeing male power and seeing male pain. The structure produces both, distributes both unequally, and uses each to conceal the other.
Feminism did not walk into a healthy male commons and empty it. The old order attached male connection to the factory, military unit, fraternal lodge, church, and heterosexual household. Those institutions gave many men real solidarity, purpose, and affection, but often made belonging conditional on conformity and performance. A man could have comrades without learning how to ask a friend for help, or provide for people who loved him while believing that love would disappear if he could no longer provide.
The problem is not that men had roles. Human beings need purpose and the dignity of being useful to one another. The problem is that too many men were offered a single brutal bargain: be necessary, and perhaps you will belong.
When women can support themselves, the provider must learn to become a partner. When queer life is visible, heterosexual conquest can no longer stand in for adult identity. When a man becomes disabled, care must become reciprocal rather than shameful. When a job disappears, community must be thicker than employment. These transitions do not make men obsolete. They expose how little the old order prepared men to be loved without leverage.
This is where reactionary movements find their opening. They approach men whose pain has no respected language and tell them the pain is proof that women have stolen something. They transform grief into entitlement, humiliation into racial resentment, and the desire to be loved into a demand to rule. They do not heal the wound. They give it a target.
A lonely boy needs neither a lecture about his statistical privilege nor a lie about his stolen throne. He needs to know that his desire for closeness is human, that tenderness is not a defect, that women do not owe him rescue, and that brotherhood, purpose, intimacy, and love do not depend on anyone else’s subordination.
Men’s pain is real. Women are not its remedy by obligation. Male friendship, public provision, democratic membership, and shared care are where a remedy begins.
Beyond usefulness
The answer cannot be a moral command to “open up.” Vulnerability requires somewhere safe to land.
That means building institutions where connection is repeated rather than exceptional: affordable recreation, libraries, unions, neighborhood groups, public parks, recovery communities, faith communities without compulsory hierarchy, and groups organized around making, mentoring, cooking, repair, art, sport, or service. Community-based Men’s Sheds, where older men gather for shared projects and conversation, offer one promising model; the evidence is encouraging even if it is not yet conclusive.12 Shared activity can give conversation time to deepen into trust, especially for men unaccustomed to entering a room for the stated purpose of emotional support.
Schools can protect boys’ friendships before intimacy becomes a source of ridicule. Health systems can meet men where they actually disclose distress instead of waiting for a crisis dramatic enough to overcome shame. Suicide prevention can pair relational care with practical measures that reduce access to lethal means. Labor policy can shorten the distance between economic security and human dignity through stable schedules, living wages, paid leave, disability support, and routes back from unemployment. A man with time, transport, housing, and health care has a better chance of sustaining a friend than a man ordered to practice vulnerability between two precarious shifts.
Caregiving must become part of ordinary male citizenship. Paid family leave, equal parenting expectations, and support for involved fathers do more than redistribute work from women. They give men daily practice in tenderness, dependence, attention, and being needed without command. Fathers cannot be reduced to paychecks and then declared failures when a prison, detention center, layoff, or disability takes the paycheck away. Families need legal support, income, communication, and material care—not praise for maternal resilience after the state has manufactured maternal overload.
Men need spaces with other men, and those spaces need not apologize for existing. The question is what kind of masculinity they cultivate. A healthy male group can offer initiation without humiliation, accountability without exile, strength without domination, and usefulness without making usefulness the price of membership. It can welcome gay and trans men, disabled men, immigrants, fathers and nonfathers, employed and unemployed men. It can teach that asking for help is not the cancellation of adulthood but one of its disciplines.
Feminism offers this project an analysis of power, dependency, care, and the political organization of private life. Black feminism, in particular, has never been able to afford the fantasy that gender travels alone. Its archive is full of families loved under pressure, people denied the roles they were supposedly privileged by, women compelled to care without support, and men alternately exploited and feared. It asks not only who stands above whom, but who is made available to the state, the market, the prison, and the household—and whose labor is demanded when somebody is taken.
Return, then, to the campground. Five men were taken, and women and children had to gather themselves in the night. Whatever led agents to select only the men, the aftermath followed a familiar division: the detained men lost their freedom, the women became the households’ emergency support system, and the children inherited the absence. Because provision had been concentrated in the men and care in the women, removing the providers immediately deepened the burden on the caregivers.
A liberatory politics must refuse the sorting before it reaches the campsite. It must contest immigration practices that separate families, prisons that hollow out communities, labor arrangements that turn employment into masculine worth, and domestic arrangements that make women responsible for everyone’s inner life. It must refuse to describe men only as authorities, perpetrators, threats, labor, or problems. Systems do not have to hate men in order to spend them. They need only value men instrumentally.
Men deserve more than restoration to an old throne that was also a draft notice, a time clock, and an emotional cell. They deserve lives in which provision and protection can be honorable expressions of care but never the admission price for love; in which strength includes dependence; in which friendship survives unemployment, divorce, disability, and age; in which a father is more than income and a partner is not an unpaid therapist; in which a boy’s tenderness is not treated as contraband.
Freedom from patriarchy cannot mean removing men’s old role and leaving them with nothing. It must mean expanding what men are allowed to be: emotionally connected, interdependent, nurturing, vulnerable, answerable, and loved without usefulness.
Notes
- Sharon Yoo, “Labor Day weekend family camping trip ends in ICE raid,” KING 5, September 7, 2026, updated September 8, 2026. A related 2026 North Carolina operation also involved Forest Service cooperation with ICE, although the agencies gave incomplete public accounts of how it began: Zachary Turner, “ICE says Forest Service requested cooperation in Wilson Creek operation,” WFAE, August 6, 2026. ↩
- International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia, Prosecutor v. Radislav Krstić, Trial Judgment, IT-98-33-T, August 2, 2001, especially paras. 431–460; United Nations International Residual Mechanism for Criminal Tribunals, “Srebrenica: Timeline of a Genocide.” ↩
- R. Charli Carpenter, “Recognizing Gender-Based Violence Against Civilian Men and Boys in Conflict Situations,” Security Dialogue 37, no. 1 (2006): 83–103; R. Charli Carpenter, “‘Women and Children First’: Gender, Norms, and Humanitarian Evacuation in the Balkans 1991–95,” International Organization 57, no. 4 (2003): 661–694. ↩
- United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, “World War I and the Armenian Genocide”; Tigran Martirosyan, “Labour Battalions (Ottoman Empire/Middle East),” 1914-1918-online: International Encyclopedia of the First World War. ↩
- Kimberlé Crenshaw, “Demarginalizing the Intersection of Race and Sex,” University of Chicago Legal Forum 1989, no. 1 (1989): 139–167. ↩
- Isabel Goddard and Kim Parker, “Men, Women and Social Connections,” Pew Research Center, January 16, 2025. ↩
- Debra Umberson, Zhiyong Lin, and Hyungmin Cha, “Gender and Social Isolation across the Life Course,” Journal of Health and Social Behavior 63, no. 3 (2022): 319–335. ↩
- Matthias Nordin et al., “Masculinity and Men’s Social Connectedness: A Scoping Review,” American Journal of Men’s Health 18, no. 6 (2024). ↩
- Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, “Suicide Data and Statistics,” provisional/final 2024 data as reported by CDC. ↩
- Pilar Gonalons-Pons and Markus Gangl, “Marriage and Masculinity: Male-Breadwinner Culture, Unemployment, and Separation Risk in 29 Countries,” American Sociological Review 86, no. 3 (2021): 465–502. ↩
- N. Morrish and A. Medina-Lara, “Does Unemployment Lead to Greater Levels of Loneliness? A Systematic Review,” Social Science & Medicine 287 (2021): 114339. ↩
- Lisa Foettinger et al., “The Role of Community-Based Men’s Sheds in Health Promotion for Older Men: A Mixed-Methods Systematic Review,” American Journal of Men’s Health 16, no. 2 (2022). ↩
- Sanne de Jong, “Gender-Based Violence During the Armenian Genocide: An Inclusive Perspective,” Maastricht Journal of Liberal Arts 14 (2023); Edita Gzoyan, “Women Survivors of the Armenian Genocide: Liberation and Relief at the Aleppo Rescue Home,” Central and Eastern European Review 13 (2019). ↩
- Selective Service System, “Who Needs to Register”; Rostker v. Goldberg, 453 U.S. 57 (1981). ↩
- E. Ann Carson and Rich Kluckow, Prisoners in 2023—Statistical Tables, Bureau of Justice Statistics, NCJ 308386, November 2024. ↩
- Office of the Assistant Secretary for Planning and Evaluation, U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, “Incarceration and the Family: A Review of Research and Promising Approaches for Serving Fathers and Families,” 2008; Amanda Geller, Irwin Garfinkel, and Bruce Western, “Paternal Incarceration and Support for Children in Fragile Families,” Demography 48 (2011): 25–47. ↩
- Ida B. Wells, anti-lynching writings collected by Northern Illinois University Libraries, “Ida B. Wells and the Campaign against Lynching”; Equal Justice Initiative, Lynching in America: Confronting the Legacy of Racial Terror, 3rd ed., 2017; Amy Kate Bailey et al., “Targeting Lynch Victims: Social Marginality or Status Transgressions?,” American Sociological Review 76, no. 3 (2011): 412–436. ↩
- Patricia Hill Collins, “Learning from the Outsider Within: The Sociological Significance of Black Feminist Thought,” Social Problems 33, no. 6 (1986): S14–S32; Patricia Hill Collins, Black Feminist Thought, 2nd ed. (Routledge, 2000), chapter 4. ↩
- Hortense J. Spillers, “Mama’s Baby, Papa’s Maybe: An American Grammar Book,” Diacritics 17, no. 2 (1987): 65–81. ↩
- Angela Y. Davis, Women, Race & Class (Random House, 1981), especially chapter 1; an online text of the chapter “The Approaching Obsolescence of Housework” is also available. ↩
- Jennifer L. Morgan, Laboring Women: Reproduction and Gender in New World Slavery (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004). ↩
- Saidiya Hartman, “A Journey Along the Atlantic Slave Route,” Narrative, Winter 2007; Saidiya Hartman, Lose Your Mother (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2007). ↩
- Dorothy Roberts, Torn Apart: How the Child Welfare System Destroys Black Families—and How Abolition Can Build a Safer World (Basic Books, 2022); Dorothy E. Roberts, “Child Welfare and Civil Rights,” University of Illinois Law Review 2003, no. 1: 171–182. ↩
- Iris Marion Young, “The Logic of Masculinist Protection: Reflections on the Current Security State,” Signs 29, no. 1 (2003): 1–25. ↩
- Niobe Way, Deep Secrets: Boys’ Friendships and the Crisis of Connection (Harvard University Press, 2011). ↩
- Katherine L. Dickerson et al., “Loneliness and Lack of Social and Emotional Support Among Adults—United States, 2022,” Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report 73, no. 24 (2024): 539–545. ↩
- bell hooks, The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity, and Love (Atria Books, 2004); Library of Congress catalog sample: “The Will to Change.” ↩
- bell hooks, We Real Cool: Black Men and Masculinity (Routledge, 2004). ↩
Sources
- Bailey, Amy Kate, et al. “Targeting Lynch Victims.” American Sociological Review 76, no. 3 (2011).
- Bureau of Justice Statistics. Prisoners in 2023—Statistical Tables. 2024.
- Carpenter, R. Charli. “Recognizing Gender-Based Violence Against Civilian Men and Boys.” Security Dialogue 37, no. 1 (2006).
- Collins, Patricia Hill. Black Feminist Thought. 2nd ed. Routledge, 2000.
- Crenshaw, Kimberlé. “Demarginalizing the Intersection of Race and Sex.” University of Chicago Legal Forum (1989).
- Davis, Angela Y. Women, Race & Class. Random House, 1981.
- de Jong, Sanne. “Gender-Based Violence During the Armenian Genocide.” Maastricht Journal of Liberal Arts 14 (2023).
- Dickerson, Katherine L., et al. “Loneliness and Lack of Social and Emotional Support.” MMWR 73, no. 24 (2024).
- Foettinger, Lisa, et al. “The Role of Community-Based Men’s Sheds.” American Journal of Men’s Health 16, no. 2 (2022).
- Goddard, Isabel, and Kim Parker. “Men, Women and Social Connections.” Pew Research Center, 2025.
- Gonalons-Pons, Pilar, and Markus Gangl. “Marriage and Masculinity.” American Sociological Review 86, no. 3 (2021).
- Hartman, Saidiya. Lose Your Mother. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2007.
- hooks, bell. The Will to Change. Atria Books, 2004.
- International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia. Prosecutor v. Radislav Krstić. 2001.
- Morgan, Jennifer L. Laboring Women. University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004.
- Nordin, Matthias, et al. “Masculinity and Men’s Social Connectedness.” American Journal of Men’s Health 18, no. 6 (2024).
- Roberts, Dorothy. Torn Apart. Basic Books, 2022.
- Spillers, Hortense J. “Mama’s Baby, Papa’s Maybe.” Diacritics 17, no. 2 (1987).
- Umberson, Debra, Zhiyong Lin, and Hyungmin Cha. “Gender and Social Isolation across the Life Course.” Journal of Health and Social Behavior 63, no. 3 (2022).
- U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum. “World War I and the Armenian Genocide.”
- Way, Niobe. Deep Secrets. Harvard University Press, 2011.
- Wells, Ida B. “Ida B. Wells and the Campaign against Lynching.” Northern Illinois University Libraries.
- Yoo, Sharon. “Labor Day Weekend Family Camping Trip Ends in ICE Raid.” KING 5, September 7, 2026.
- Young, Iris Marion. “The Logic of Masculinist Protection.” Signs 29, no. 1 (2003).

