Anna Watson

They look at me, my students and even my colleagues, as if I’m about to crack open Pandora’s box every time I raise this topic. Living here in San José, in the heart of Silicon Valley, I’ve come to expect these raised eyebrows and the occasional awkward pause. At seventy-four, it doesn't deter me; in fact, it gives me momentum. My research focuses on masculinity and the behaviors we’ve so long tolerated that now define the world’s crises—economic inequality, oppression, war, violence. It's a volatile topic, even here at the university, surrounded by bright minds supposedly open to progressive ideas.

I don't enjoy pointing fingers, but let’s be honest: the statistics don’t lie. Men dominate the power structures that shape our world, and their unchecked aggression often perpetuates cycles of conflict and suffering. Yet each time I speak, I tread a thin line, mindful of how easily this discourse can sound like an attack rather than a call for growth. I believe emotional maturity and empathy are critical for real change, and I’m not the only one. I often remind my audiences that tenderness, vulnerability, and self-reflection shouldn’t be revolutionary traits for men—they should be foundational.

The irony is, in my personal life, I’m surrounded by men who embody the very qualities I advocate for. They’re empathetic, introspective, genuinely curious about the world beyond themselves. My husband, a wonderful example, often challenges and encourages me. And yet, we’re all trapped in a bubble of shared values. What troubles me is how to reach beyond this bubble, to those who most need to hear these ideas but don’t have access to a space that supports change.

It’s a daunting task, this vision of a world where men are raised to be as emotionally aware as they are strong. But I continue my work, hoping that a spark here or there might ignite something larger, something that outlasts even me.