Black Men, Brotherhood, and Borders: How Travel Can Help Us Redefine Our Masculinity
By LEROY ADAMS
In the Western world, masculinity, especially among Black men, has often been associated with toughness, assertiveness, and communal expressions of “toughen up” because “men don’t cry.” This brand of masculinity has created a culture of brotherhood where Black men and boys struggle to express their feelings, show vulnerability, and view each other as threats.
But what if the notions of masculinity we grew up with were just a fragment of a more expansive global picture? Traveling and immersing yourself in varied cultures can offer surprising insights into different manifestations of masculinity, paving the way for personal growth, emotional connection, and a redefined understanding of brotherhood.
A few weeks ago, I was on a press trip in Thailand. As the publisher of a travel magazine, I was invited to Thailand for five days to experience their new health and wellness tourism activities. With me on the trip were three male Chinese Tik Tok influencers. As a former expat in China (I lived in Beijing for two years) who still loves and admires Chinese culture - from the vibrant and flavorful food to the festivities of Chinese New Year to the reverence for philosophy and mindfulness - I was excited to meet them and learn more about their lives as Tik Tok influencers. It took all of two seconds for them to become infatuated with me. It wasn’t only my ability to greet them in their language (Nǐ hǎo, wǒ de míngzì shì lēi luó yī. Wǒ shì měiguó lái de) or tell them about my time in their country (Wǒ céngjīng zài běijīng dāngguò lǎoshī. Wǒ zhù zài liù dàkǒu qū. Wǒ háishì ài běijīng.), no it was also my hair, my clothes, my openness, and my skin color.
A young Chinese woman asks to touch my hair during a subway ride in Beijing.
Living in Beijing for two years (and traveling around several other Asian countries) exposed me to the depths of admiration the Asian community, in this case, the Chinese community has for Black culture. From our dress, cultural lingo, sense of fashion, hip hop, and sports, it all seems to draw a fanbase whenever we visit Asian countries. A quick search “Traveling while Black (insert Asian country) on Instagram and Tik Tok will yield results of Black travelers surrounded by cameras and onlookers as they walk around. So, over those four days in Thailand, I was not surprised when the three Chinese Tik Tokers constantly asked me to take a picture or record a video with them. I didn’t trip; I loved it. It was nostalgic and fun.
Little did I know that they would take the photos and videos and create what is arguably the funniest reels I’ve ever seen in my life. It was peek Asian content with emojis, rainbow colors, hearts, cute, and more hearts. Lots of hearts. Basically, Hello Kitty-themed. And again, I loved it. They were expressing friendship and connection.
So, I immediately posted the video wanting to share this work of art with my community. And the responses, while mostly positive and curious about the use of so many hearts (haha), reminded me that my audience for the reel did not hold the same cultural understanding of Asian masculine expression but was more rooted in the brand of Western masculinity that does not accept any sign of “softness” among men. Comments like “Bra, that’s fruity” took me back to my childhood. Where my friends and I would call out boys that seemed to be a little “girly” or condemnation by our fathers and uncles for not being “tough enough” when we cried.
I have traveled to over twenty countries and lived abroad for six years. Each country - from Finland to India to Ethiopia to Colombia - has exposed me to a different type of masculinity and expression of brotherhood. And because of this, I find myself open to healthier and less aggressive expressions of love and connection with my brothers. I don’t want to be “hard” but simply at peace around them.
So, in this article, we’ll explore Western masculinity’s cultural constraints within Black men’s community. After that, I aim to show the cultural lessons from Ethiopia and China that have exposed me to other forms of masculinity and expressions of brotherhood. We’ll conclude with personal stories from my travels about how these lessons have impacted me, and I’ll share why travel can help transform Black masculinity and brotherhood.
The Constraints of Western Masculinity on Black Men
Brothers, it’s no secret that Western society has given us a narrow definition of what it means to be a man, especially a Black man. From the chains of slavery to the Civil Rights Movement, our ancestors constantly fought against oppressive forces, pushing them to adapt and often embracing a protective form of masculinity. In many instances, this adaptation was a survival mechanism; showing any sign of vulnerability could lead to further oppression or even death.
For instance, take the Jim Crow era (1877-1950), a time of heightened racial tension, where the caricature of the brute Black man often portrayed us as aggressive, dangerous, sexual deviants, incapable of emotions other than anger. The media perpetuated these stereotypes, and they were ingrained in society’s consciousness. This characterization served a purpose - to justify the dehumanization and subjugation of an entire race.
Photo Source: Jim Crow Museum
Fast forward to the 20th and 21st centuries. The media landscape evolved, but the archetypes remained. For instance, the Blaxploitation films of the 1970s often highlighted the “tough Black man” who fought against the system. From the original Dolemite to Sweetback’s Badasssss Song to Shaft busting up Parisian enslaved person rings in Africa, the characters of these films were celebrated for their resistance. They also invariably portrayed Black masculinity as synonymous with aggression and dominance. Then came the hip-hop era, which, although a powerful platform for Black expression, sometimes furthered this narrative. Songs glorifying violence, domination, and stoicism became anthems of our generation. This is not a condemnation of the genre that gave me “Juicy” and validated our experiences in schools with lyrics like “To all the teachers that told me I’d never amount to nothin’” or spoke to my shock and Black boy joy when mom walked in with a Sega Genesis. Hip-hop gave our community another voice and conditioned us to believe that force, violence, and a Glock were the only ways to settle disputes.
The conditioning runs deep. It’s not just in the explicit content of the films or the lyrics of a song. It’s the insidious, underlying message that’s been drummed into us, suggesting that our value as Black men is intrinsically tied to our ability to dominate, to endure without flinching, and to protect at all costs. Remember those films from our youth - Bad Boys, Boyz In The Hood, Friday? “Let him be a man; get up, Craig, get up!” What did Mike Lowrey, I mean Will Smith, say after he slapped Chris Rock for all the world to see, “I feel the need to protect those I love.” Bra, come on, there are better and healthier ways...never mind, I digress.
Beyond the entertainment, those films painted a clear picture: To be respected, to be considered a man, one had to be tough, to stand one’s ground, often by force.
Friday (1995)
Bringing it back to our roots, we have our families, our communities, and the deeply embedded cultural norms that have informed our understanding of manhood from our earliest memories. Think of those instrumental men in our lives: fathers, uncles, older cousins. They loved deeply and provided for us, doing their best to shield us from a world that, in their eyes, might not always be kind. Still, they passed down a rugged form of masculinity from their struggles and the battles of generations before them. I can still hear my uncle telling me not to cry and be strong for my mother when my brother died.
The message? Be strong. Be resilient. Don’t let the world see your pain.
But somewhere in those messages, our ability to connect emotionally, to show vulnerability and humanity, was stripped away.
Yet, it’s not just the teachings from our elders; it’s the daily lived experiences that continually chip away at our emotional selves. Consider youth sports - from Pop Warner to AAU - which many of us played from an early age. Weekend car rides back and forth from Orlando’s World of Sports with my stepdad preaching to me and my brothers the importance of “never showing weakness.” The basketball courts, football fields, and locker rooms would become places where we were taught competitive masculinity: be aggressive, dominate, and never show weakness. And these lessons we would inevitably pass down to our younger brothers. Our coaches might emphasize the importance of teamwork and discipline. Still, they also conflated strength with silence, teaching us that expressing pain or emotion was a sign of weakness - “It’s not a foul if you’re not bleeding.”
The cultural messaging was clear: showing vulnerability could lead to labels like “soft,” “fruity,” or even “gay” – descriptors that none of us wanted to be associated with. If so, the walks home would be met with a beatdown.
These layers of conditioning are even evident in smaller moments like the group chats we’ve created for connection, humor, and safe spaces to vent about our partners. Even so, these chats, in a way, have become a microcosm of broader societal pressures. You’ve felt it - the tug of war between wanting to openly express affection to a brother and the fear of being perceived as “less masculine” for it. It’s no accident that we replace verbal affirmations with emojis, diluting potent words of love and care with a simple “👍🏾.” If you’re brave, you might reply with a “❤️.” Yo, why does saying “I love you, bro” feel like we’re crossing some unspoken boundary?
The condition and upbringing are what it is; we didn’t ask for it. And our loved ones, for the most part, were doing what they thought was best. It’s our responsibility to grow and evolve, not just for us but for the next generation of boys and men. Traveling has been a key driver in my growth and perception of what it means to be a man.
Keep reading; I’ll share what living in Ethiopia, and China taught me about their expressions of brotherhood and masculinity.
Expressions of Brotherhood: Lessons from Ethiopian and Chinese Cultures
Photo Source: Sallianne Blog
In Ethiopia, there's a genuine warmth and intimacy shared among men that, at first glance, might seem unfamiliar to our American eyes. I recall my first introduction to the practice during a Peace Corps cultural training session. Ethiopian men, in their expression of camaraderie and brotherly love, would hold hands or even sit on each other's laps.
Say what now?
That’s what I said!
I would never. What if my…got too close to his…and then what if we…
My mind just went racing with all kinds of wild homophobic ideas. My boy Sam, another Black American volunteer, and I made eye contact when the instructor mentioned hand-holding and lap-sitting. Without saying a word to each other, we understood what the other was thinking, "My boys and I would never do some sh*t like that."
It would take months, and many sessions of cultural training to learn the depth of this connection is rooted in the broader Arabic and African tradition, where men holding hands is a sign of mutual respect and friendship. Sam and I were not the only Americans confused and judgmental about such a practice.
Let's go back to 2005 when all of America is up in arms at the sight of President George W. Bush and Saudi Crown Prince Abdullah taking a stroll in the garden of his Texas ranch while *gasp* …holding hands.
"I mean, I'd love to meet the president, but I'm not going to walk around holding his hand," says one guy in New York's Times Square. "I'm not that kind of guy; know what I'm saying."
"Two leaders holding hands, there is nothing wrong in it," says Jamal Dajani. "In the traditional Arab society, it's a sign of friendship.
About six months into my service in Ethiopia, when cultural norms became the norm, I could see the expression of genuine friendship through hand-holding and, yes, lap-sitting. However, it took me months and continuous effort to remove the American lens from which I viewed the world. And even though I personally never felt comfortable enough to embrace all aspects of this tradition, the underlying message was clear: Here, brotherhood is gentle, intimate, and unconditional.
Taking photos with my friends and teaching colleagues in my Peace Corps site - Endabaguna, Ethiopia.
Now, shifting our gaze to the East, Chinese culture unveils a different facet of this same brand of brotherhood. I spent two years living in Beijing and would see the various expressions of masculinity among young adult Chinese men (I never really saw it with older Chinese men). Their interactions were marked by hugs, arms around the shoulders, laughter, and playfulness. In an article by Duncan Muir, titled Chinese Male Intimacy: On Men Holding Hands found on eChinacities, a resource site that provides services and information for international visitors and China-based ex-pats, the author shares further insight:
No one can deny that Chinese girls seem to be a lot more touchy-feely than their Western counterparts…but platonic closeness isn't just restricted to women; Chinese men can also be closer in their personal relations than most Western males would find comfortable with their friends back home.
In middle schools across the nation, it's not uncommon to see teenage boys holding hands in the lunch hall, and male students can behave in much the same way at Chinese universities. It isn't just the young who are more physical about their friendships…Two old men might saunter home from a night of drinking with their fingers loosely clasped together. But don't misread what's going on here; it doesn't mean that these men holding hands are gay.
Why Men Holding Hands in China is Acceptable
Anyone will tell you that homosexuality is much less accepted in China than in the West, so why is male intimacy much more commonplace? The truth is that though many older, traditional Chinese people view homosexuality as a Western import, it's homophobia that was imported thanks to British influence following the opium wars. Unlike Judaeo-Christian or Islamic societies, China's traditional culture had no clear definition between heterosexuality and homosexuality.
Daoism stresses the importance of balance between yin and yang. Yin is feminine, yang masculine, but every man is seen as having some yin in his character. So feminine behavior is not seen as a negative quality in a man, nor is intimacy among men seen as something which might undermine masculinity. A Chinese man can hold hands with a male friend without having any concerns that such behavior might in some way weaken him in the eyes of other men.
What's the take-home message for us, fellas? It's this: Around the world, there are cultures that have carved their own definitions of masculinity and brotherhood, ones that don't necessitate dominance or bravado.
Can we, as Black men, now equipped with an understanding of how Western social practices have defined masculinity for us, begin to redefine and practice our own brand of masculinity?
The interactions I would see between men in the streets of Addis Ababa or the neighborhoods of Beijing helped me to understand that there's a richness in diverse expressions of male bonding.
Brotherhood is about connection, mutual respect, and love – and how we show it can be as varied as the world itself.
Taking photos with my friends and teaching colleagues in my Peace Corps site - Endabaguna, Ethiopia.
Personal Transformation: Embracing a Broader Perspective on Brotherhood
For four days, I flipped between emotions - surprise and admiration - while watching the young Chinese TikTok influencers express an unapologetic, genuine, and gentle form of brotherly love - no barriers, no pretenses, just pure brotherly love. It got me thinking about the many times I’ve held back from expressing my true feelings to my brothers back home, resorting to a quick fist bump or an emoji. These young influencers’ warmth challenged my notions and pushed me to examine why expressing affection always felt like treading on thin ice.
Hanging with Chinese Tik Tok influencers I met in Thailand.
Am I suggesting we, Black men, start to hold hands? Hell nah, it’s not our way. And that is, of course, perfectly ok.
Plus, I tried it, jokingly, of course, and here’s what happened…
After my time in Ethiopia, I tried, playfully, to hold my best friend’s hand once we connected back home. His reaction? A playful swing! (Haha) He probably also knew it was coming because when I first shared the culture of men holding hands in Ethiopia, his response was expected, “What? That’s wild. Yea, don’t try that when you get back.”
In that moment of jokes, I realized that while my boundaries had expanded, our shared understanding of brotherhood was still tethered to our shared cultural background. But change was in the air. My boys and I, over time, have become more intentional in our expressions. Words like “I love you” appear in our group chats. Why? Because every one of us is well-traveled or has traveled enough to learn how to control our aggression, guide our emotions, and find comfort in the new and different. We’re not the only ones; plenty of Black men find travel the antidote to hyper-aggression and unhealthy forms of masculinity.
Perhaps, more importantly, by understanding masculinity in its diverse forms, we’ve grown in our empathy towards gay Black men. They are our brothers, too, period.
And as I reflect, I can’t help but wonder: what if we’d known better in our youth? Imagine if our younger selves could have embraced the emotional range and depth our manhood genuinely offers. How many misunderstandings, born out of fragile egos and perceived slights, could we have avoided in our schoolyards? Perhaps, with an enriched perspective on brotherhood, we’d have had more mentors, lesser conflicts, and a generation of Black men who know that strength isn’t just about dominance – it’s about connection, understanding, and vulnerability.
We now have the privilege to instill these beliefs and values in the next generation.
A CALL TO MY BROTHERS
Travel, my brothers, is more than just seeing new places or tasting different cuisines. It's a transformative journey that has the power to reshape our most deep-seated beliefs and open our eyes to the boundless expressions of the human experience. By stepping outside of our comfort zones, we discover different cultures and unveil previously hidden layers of ourselves. For Black men, especially, this exploration is a chance for us to redefine and rediscover masculinity in its most diverse and profound forms. By witnessing the gentle bonds of Ethiopian men or the playful camaraderie among young Chinese peers, we're reminded that our manhood isn't just confined to the societal boxes we grew up in.
To my Black brothers reading this: I challenge you to find strength in vulnerability, to embrace the myriad expressions of brotherhood, and to journey outside the familiar. Remember, true growth comes from exploring both the world and the self. So, let's step out, explore, and challenge our definitions because culture travels for growth.