The Weird Emasculation of Giving Away Tools

Lucky for me, I’ve never had need to fully rebuild the engine of a car. While cars are not a hobby for me, I’m confident in my ability to repair pretty much anything on a car, given time. It would need to be a lot of time, probably. But the need has never been there. Any big car repair happened when a car was so vital that I spent the money to get it fixed fast. And now our car is not driven enough to rack up enough charges that would put me in a position to do any myself.

However, I had a complete toolbox ready for the job. And if it wasn’t an engine, I could build a wall or dismantle a lawnmower or fell a tree. I inherited, bought, traded, and accumulated a this massive pool of steel. The box was red of course. It included a full set of ratchets in metric and standard for three sizes of handle. Various wire cutters, pliers, wrenches, and screw drivers were in there. A jigsaw. A cordless drill. Chisels, stud finder, and a particular kind of wedge used to crack paving blocks. Wire bristle drill bits, Dremel bits, and a few random drill chucks.

So many tools.

The important part is that it was my toolbox. I gave it away. In the seven years that I have had daughters, and the three years that raising them has been my full time job, my sexuality and masculinity have been questioned. A lot. In ways great and small. But there has been nothing quite as emasculating as giving away a box of tools.

In theory, tools are tools. They’re the machines we use to make our lives easier. While they shouldn’t carry the weight of expectations or personality, we use them as shorthand. A box of tools is memory. It is shorthand for judging personality. It is a barometer of character.

In Gran Torino, Walt Kowalski tried to say: "I'm going to tell you only need duct tape, WD-40, and vice grips.
But you're not going to be worth piss until you start filling that tool belt."

Let’s start with why I gave those tools away. The tools went to the incredible people over at Seattle ReCreative because I didn’t use them. The only used socket in that wrench set was the 10mm one. It put together our Ikea shelves. The stud finder had the same battery as when we purchased it a decade ago, and that included using it for the obligatory “beep when it’s facing me” joke. The paver chisel cracked no more than six retaining wall stones. Then the retaining wall was done and our current life in an apartment has not given me reason to build another.

I kept them for as long as I did because they’re tools. You never know when you need a wrench large enough to unbolt a battleship. That “Be Prepared” motto from the Boy Scouts really resonates when it comes to forged steel levers and things that can cut off your finger. It is a waste of money, but it’s also a level of personal failure, to purchase another wrench or socket or saw when you used to have one and didn’t wear it out.

Every man needs a toolbox like Adam Savage's.
Or an astromech droid. Which is pretty much the same thing. 

That personal failure goes deeper. The tools make the man. The self sufficiency. The ability to work with your hands. The masculine potential. There's plenty of men that have this box of worn tools or a carefully traced pegboard that they use to work every day. Keeping up with them is damn hard. I could have a toolbox that looks like Adam Savage’s. I should have a workshop that looks like Walt Kowalski’s. I have built walls and demolished buildings. But I opened this up by saying I could rebuild the engine of a car. I think I could, but I honestly don’t know.

That is really hard to admit. I mean, why did I even feel the need to mention being able to work on a car? Is it some defense against being being questioned as a man? Dad can. Friends can. I don't have to and have the time and money not to. There is the need to bolster my credentials, burnish my Man Card. And the most screwed up thing about it? It’s hard to admit that it’s hard to admit. Feelings suck to talk about, except in the most cursory way.

Well, Dr. Phil, what happens when your bullshit machismo hype
makes it more difficult for men to be present, compassionate, and loving? 

That means I need to start over again. I had a toolbox that could be used to rebuild a car, but I could not. Those tools wasted space in my house and made me feel inadequate for not using them. They were a constant totem of something I should be doing or should be able to do. And it was damn hard to give them away because it piled failure on top of that inadequacy. I stalled for three years, hiding them in the back of the closet and occasionally taking them out to rearrange them, hoping that I could unlock some extra space in my life that they would fit.

Did this red box of steel and grit make me? Yes, and that’s why they had to go. They were dishonest, nothing more than a mask or a prop. Feeling the need to carry this crap around to reinforce manliness is the kind of toxic masculinity that is actually damaging men and their loved ones. When we keep things or ideas because we're supposed to rather than because they make us a stronger part of our families, that pollutes our relationships and uses up energy. It's a lie we have to remember and constantly maintain. Had I needed them, great. But those tools were here as a show of this guy I’m supposed to be, not the person I am. Stripping away that guy is emasculating and I am not sorry to see him go. 

I burned my Man Card when I got a Dad Card, which is purple too.

That person lives in a family, one where getting dinner on the table is more important than having quick access to a 5/8” socket wrench. We are making a home, an engine to run our lives, and a place to raise kids. We still need tools, just not the ones we had. Now the back of that closet is full of cleaning stuff, things that I use three times a week. Or maybe once a week. Or a couple times a month. Anyway, they are real tools we need to make our lives easier.

I do have a new workbench. It is is a kitchen island that is actually in the kitchen. It's full of craft supplies and has my computer on top. Instead of being a box apart from the other stuff in the house, it's an operations area that is part of how our family operates. It took a lot of thinking into how I want to work, and how it fits into our household. As Mr. Scott said, the right tool for the right job. Developing that idea will be the next part of the story.