By Rogelio Serrano, LMFT, PsyD
Clinical Psychologist, Federal Bureau of Prisons
Adjunct Faculty, Pepperdine University
The problem of Intimate Partner Violence (IPV) has become an increasing crisis for all communities across the United States. Crime statistics that were analyzed by Durose et al. (2005) revealed that 73.4% of the victims of family violence in the United States were females. Durose et al. analyzed data gathered from the National Crime Victimization Surveys (NCVS) and the United States Department of Justice (USDOJ) databases. Their analysis revealed that the overwhelming majority of family violence crimes (48.9%) were those perpetrated against a spouse or intimate partner. In those cases, 86.1% of the offenders were males and 78.1% of the attacks occurred in the home. Other data, funded by the Federal Bureau of Investigation [FBI], analyzed figures from the Uniform Crime Report (UCR) and the National Incident-Based Reporting System (NIBRS) gathered in 24 states (FBI, 2005). Findings from this data revealed that the most prevalent type of family violence was violence between intimate partners (32.4%). The data regarding the victims of violence was similar to the USDOJ data in that 74.8% of them were female. Furthermore, this study revealed that of those 32.4% of cases, almost all of them (99%) involved alcohol in some way and 78.4% of assaults utilized personal weapons (e.g. hands, fists, and feet). What this data suggests is that the most dangerous place for a woman to be is in her own home with an intoxicated intimate partner. Unfortunately, my experiences of childhood and adolescence made me realize these sobering statistics were painfully true. Such a devastating problem requires much clinical attention and focus of thought, particularly as it relates to the concept of Machismo with the Latinx community.
It is important to include an understanding of the term Macho when discussing Latino men who engage in IPV. The macho construct has been historically described in negative male characteristics of dominance, aggression, sexual promiscuity and substance abuse (Mosher & Tompkins, 1988; Sequeira, 2009; Zaitchik & Mosher, 1993). Casas, Wagenheim, Banchero, & Mendoza-Romero (1993) proposed that research on the construct of machismo may be combined with concepts in social learning in order to provide a contextual picture of the underlying dynamics of Latino male development. Since then modifications have been made to the concept of machismo that embrace positive characteristics such as honor, duty to others, self-sacrifice, and nurturance (Arciniega, Anderson, Tovar-Blank, & Tracey, 2008; Mirande, 1997; Welland & Ribner, 2008). Some research with Latino men has further demonstrated that macho may be a two-dimensional construct that incorporates both positive and negative male characteristics and behaviors that men access in the course of professional, social, and intimate interactions (Arciniega et al., 2008; Mirande, 1997; Neff, 2001). For the purposes of my professional work, I define Machismo as: The spectrum of behaviors ranging from strict adherence to patriarchal scripts to acceptance of egalitarian emotional expression, demonstrated by men across cultures, but most commonly associated with men of Latinx heritage. The etiology of this definition comes from both my personal and clinical experience with men of Latinx culture.
Like all stories of life, this one was influenced by my first memories of childhood, listening, learning, and emoting. Although at that time it was not a matter of conscious thought, it was simply just another experience that eventually makes you a person. I remember listening to my mother on the phone. Another one of those late night/early morning calls that come in the midst of sleep. The tone in her voice was one of both worry and anger. Distress combined with volitional action and problem solving. Once again, she was calming down my aunt after another episode of violence at the hands of her brother. My uncle had once again exhibited the worst of machismo. This term would later come to mean so much more than just a painful memory. Even back then, machismo meant more than just a word, it was a way dark part of life and a manner of being. But unfortunately it was mostly negative. Negative because my experiences with it were ones that predominantly instilled fear. The fear was in the sound of my mother’s voice trying to calm someone down and maintain some control. That is what machismo meant for me from the beginning, the towering voice of the man in the heat of rage, followed by the disastrous hand that made things break, fly, and crumble on contact. It was the only machismo I knew because at that time whenever a man acted in this way he was always referred to as “machista” (the man who demonstrates negative macho behaviors).
By contrast my father was someone different. A man of calm integrity and stoic strength. He could stop you with a look. He could silence everyone with one glare of his eyes. Yet, simultaneously he could inspire you with his smile, and melt your heart with his touch. But he was not called a “machista”. This was simply “mi papa”, the man whom the world knew as kind, loving, faithful, strong, respectful, and honest. But make no mistake about it, there was a fierce strength inside those tender eyes. He would never let himself nor anyone in his family be treated less than honorable. He had suffered, fought, and sacrificed for his family, not once asking for recognition of his accomplishments. In his world, loving your children, teaching them respect, and providing for them was nothing to be celebrated. It was simply the duty of a family man, “un hombre de familia”. Nothing was done for the benefit of your own ego, it was done for the love of “la familia”. Things were done because it was “lo que se debe de hacer” (what should be done). Because I had so many negative images and experiences of what machismo was I often wondered what kind of man my father would be called. It never dawned on me that this was also a picture of machismo. The word was never merged into one concept until years later after I began my clinical work with men and I studied the concept of machismo from an academic perspective. What I came to find in both my clinical and research experience is that this concept is much more complex than I could have ever imagined. And as it relates to the problem of IPV, there is much more work that needs to be done in order to understand how to intervene in the epidemic of IPV.
Like most of the constructs we later begin to study in academia, my understanding of machismo didn’t start from as academic exercise. It came from my experiences of the contrasting figures of Latino men in my childhood. Both forms took on great meaning but never could I imagine that they were two sides of the same coin. How can being Macho mean such different things? Can you be crude and respectful? Vengeful and forgiving? Cruel and kind? I suppose we all have that capacity in the same way. In time, I grew to understand that it was within me to also create myself in the likeness of these two sides. One side of me could be cruel, vengeful, and crude. The other could be respectful, forgiving, and kind. It was simply up to me when, where, and with whom, these opposing figures would arise. The question was, who should I decide to be today? That was the hardest decision for me to make as a young man. For it is an existential decision that many of us have to make and unfortunately most young men find themselves desperately unable to answer. Previous research (Cervantes, 2006; O’Neil, 2008; Pleck, 1981; Pollack, 1999) has described the crisis of young men as they approach the age of adulthood and become increasingly weary of the dark cloud of adult masculinity. Some new research is pointing towards the multidimensional aspects of machismo and how it can influence parenting roles, self-esteem, and even cultural stigma in workplace injuries (Glass & Owen, 2010; Ojeda & Pina-Watson, 2014; Walter, 2004). Despite this early research, we still don’t know much about the role that this crisis of masculinity plays in the lives of Latino men within the context of their intimate relationships. It is my hope to build a body of work that gives voices to Latino men so we can begin to understand the factors that lead men to choose destruction over love.
In my search for understanding the role that machismo plays in IPV with Latinx men, I have discovered that macho is in fact a construct that deserves more clinical attention. What I discovered is that Latinx men who engage in IPV report that machismo has various dimensions within the greater spectrum of behaviors available to all men. In my research they reported to me a complex understanding of both positive and negative aspects to machismo and insight about the damage negative macho traits can cause to family relationships (Serrano et al., 2018 [Manuscript in preparation]). This discovery was much in line with the almost two decades of clinical practice with Latinx men. Sitting in the room with Latinx men who truly wish for a better life has taught me that there are significant critical factors which influence the behaviors emitted in everyday relationships. Latino men, like all men who engage in IPV, understand the consequences of their actions. They realize the choices they make can have real effects on both their lives and the lives of their families. Most of my clients truly believe they have within them the capacity to be good men. Most men strive to be “hombres de familia” as my father use to teach me in his words and actions. The bigger question for us as clinicians and as a people is: How do we support them in reaching this goal? I believe we must move beyond the stereotype of the destructive macho and take the label forward to understand all aspects of Latino masculinity, the good and the bad. Because of all the obvious events and statistics that prove the epidemic of IPV in our community is real we often forget all the examples of love that men demonstrate. Our minds make us attend to the shattering sound of the sirens coming down our street and the shouting of a man’s voice in rage, his booming actions piercing the late night hours as we cringe inside our own walls and hope no one else gets hurt. We may call upon ourselves to hate the “macho” causing the destruction. What we forget is that for every one of those men for whom the police will come that night, the rest of the barrio is filled with hundreds of other men. These are the other “machos” that will lay back down in their own bed, thank god they chose the right path, and then wake at dawn to go forward to be the “hombre de familia”. If we really want to learn how to stop the epidemic of IPV, we need to learn what those men do to stay faithful to their word, “hombres de palabra”!
(**Note: The following piece was written based on the writer’s personal opinion and self-conclusion of the topic.)
Aliento, The Center for Latinx Communities Blog 