July is when the flags come out – on porches, in parades, on the backs of pickup trucks heading to river crossings and backyard cookouts. We celebrate independence, grit, and a country built by men who weren’t afraid to work hard, speak plainly, and live by conviction. So it seems like the right time to talk about something that’s been twisted, mocked, and in some corners, nearly forgotten: what it means to be a man.
Let’s get right to it – being a man isn’t toxic. It’s essential.
That shouldn’t be a controversial statement, but in today’s world, it sometimes feels like it is. We’ve raised a generation of boys who are being told that strength is oppression, that ambition is selfish, and that masculinity is a problem to be fixed. That’s a lie. And like most lies, it leads to confusion, brokenness, and a culture that’s more reactive than resilient.
But here in Kendall County, I see something different. I see men showing up. I see dads teaching their sons how to swing a hammer or bait a hook. I see grandfathers sharing their faith around firepits, not because they think they’re better, but because they know the value of passing something down. I see young men holding doors, giving firm handshakes, and standing up when someone else needs a seat. It’s not performative. It’s just how they were raised.
The world doesn’t need less masculinity. It needs better masculinity. And that starts with reclaiming the values we used to take for granted:
Strength – not just physical, but moral. The strength to say no when it’s easier to go along. The strength to carry burdens so others don’t have to.
Faith – not as a private hobby, but as a compass. Men who lead their families in prayer, who show up in the pews and live their beliefs Monday through Saturday, not just on Sunday.
Humility – not weakness, but groundedness. The man who serves behind the scenes, who does the hard thing without demanding credit, who knows when to speak and when to listen.
Leadership – real leadership. The kind that builds people up instead of tearing them down. That teaches instead of lectures. That earns trust because it’s consistent.
This is what I mean by a gentleman’s code. And it’s not new. Our grandfathers and great-grandfathers didn’t need a movement to tell them to lead, provide, protect, and teach. They just did it. And for all our advancements, we’d be wise to revisit that foundation.
It’s why I publish The Kendall Gentleman. Not to pat myself on the back, but to shine a light on the good men – ones who quietly hold up their families, their churches, their communities. Men who’ve traded applause for accountability. Those who show up early and stay late. Those who raise their children with discipline and love. Those who love their wives with loyalty. Those who put God first.
Somewhere along the way, we started thinking manhood was about power. It’s not. It’s about responsibility. It’s about putting others first. And if our culture is starved for something, it’s not softer men – it’s stronger ones. Men who know who they are and whose they are.
That starts at home. Boys don’t learn character from social media. They learn it from watching their fathers. They learn it from how you treat their mother. Whether you show up when you say you will. How you react when things go wrong. Whether your word means something. In this way, fatherhood isn’t just a role – it’s a calling.
If you’re a father, this is your mission. If you’re a mentor, a coach, a big brother, a neighbor – you’re in this fight too. Because every boy in Kendall County deserves to see what real masculinity looks like up close: not loud, not cruel, not self-serving – but brave, humble, generous, and rooted in truth.
This July, while we celebrate the birth of a nation, let’s not forget the kind of men who made it possible – and the kind we still need today. Men with dirt on their boots and steel in their spines. Men who aren’t afraid to speak up or kneel in prayer. Men who know that freedom isn’t given – it’s earned and protected.
So here’s to the gentlemen. Not the polished caricatures of some bygone era, but the real, raw, steady kind. The kind raising kids, building businesses, mowing the neighbor’s yard, and leading by example. You may never trend online, but you’re shaping the world.
And I’m proud to be among you.
Until next time,
Michael G Ethridge
Publisher/Owner
