This is especially true in literature for young adults (YA), where fundamental assumptions on gender roles can be established as mirrors against which teenagers see themselves reflected, or the reflection of possible models to either reject (the sexism of Sharon G. Flake’s character, Raheem) or imitate (the honor and poetic truthfulness of Walter Dean Myers’s Spoon).

By examining two texts, Who Am I Without Him? (2004), by Sharon G. Flake and The Beast (2003), by Walter Dean Myers, I will address the question posed above by suggesting that a picture of masculinity is never definite, fully coherent, or complete, even within the members of the same social group, but , something less commonly seen in the literature by and about white males.

Although in this post I will not attempt a contrastive analysis between “white” and “black” YA Literature, one aspect that pops up from the portrayal of black males, at least in Myers’s The Beast, is a level of maturity that defies the fictional construction of the young male voice. I believe this is less the case in the YA literature by white authors. A good example being Gale Giles’ Shattering Glass (2004), where not only has the adolescent voice been faithfully represented, but the gender of the author can hardly be inferred from the characters’ performance. Nevertheless, given the history of the African American struggle (traditionally rejecting art for art’s sake), this authorial move toward social activism and awareness is more than predictable, if not justifiable.

Thus, what kind of masculinity emerges from Flake’s and Myers’ texts? It can be argued that Flake’s representation of masculinity emerges as a background for a more frontal and denunciatory feminist narrative; whereas Myers’ is more conciliatory or even vindicatory of an overexposed negative image of the black male. Yet, ; that is, a relationship in which men can learn from women not only how to be better partners but also how to help them realize their potential while respecting their individuality.

In the first vignette of Who am I Without Him? the boys seem to be more concerned about the physicality of women as sexual objects than about their qualities as human beings. They “don’t even look [plain and pitiful girls’] way or ask their names” (1). They are only after a “Beauty Queen” imposing a demeaning kind of pressure on women who, like the narrator of the first story, stand anything lest “their men” would just look for a better one. The narrator’s mother’s words haunt her “You ain’t no beauty prize” (8).

At the same time, Flake suggests that men can also be objectified. They are referred to as property, a property that must be defended and fought for. If men fail, they are nothing but victims of temptations, temptations usually associated with the white woman.

“She stole my man right from under me” says the female narrator “—for a little while, anyhow” (2 my emphasis). Ironically, Unapologetically Raheem “takes off his shades and eyes a girl passing by” while his girlfriend is desperately trying to get his attention (3). She has internalized that men like “girls who do what [they say] and don’t talk back” (4). Thus black men have been constructed as indispensable commodities women can’t afford to lose, “I’ll do your homework, wash your clothes, lend you money, anything… just keep being my Boo” (4).

This level of devotion, though, does not prevent Flake’s men from turning violent. “Raheem’s hand smashes the words back into my mouth…I apologize just like my momma does when my daddy slaps her. Like Raheem’s momma does too” (5). . The female characters have also internalized that cute men do not belong to any woman, not for very long (8).

Flake’s poignant attack to masculine mentality through the eyes of female narrators is later emphasized and problematized in “Jacob’s Rule.” In this story a male narrator describes a peculiar class “called Boy Stuff.” Women have recently been allowed in this “ninth-grade elective where boys talk, write and report on things important to [them], like sex, gangs, money, drugs, living, dying, and yeah girls” (105). The separate itemization of “sex” and “girls” is not accidental in Flake’s rhetoric. It suggests the ultimate manifestation of male dominance according to which sex, gender, and orientation are not only socially constructed but subject to irreconcilable fragmentation based on masculine needs.

Two questions resonate throughout the whole collection, The girls’ response to the first question is (106) or because girls want boys to treat them bad (107). When Jacob tells the class that they will be not only talking about relationships, but “testing ‘em out” one student’s question was if that meant “he gets to kiss Michelle’s pretty brown lips. ‘Or rub Denise’s…’” (109). Through Jacob, Flake attempts to subvert masculine forms of domination. . “‘Young men today think that dating is about finding a girl, mounting a girl, and ditching a girl,’” Jacob explains to the class (111). Flake also emphasizes the role of women in changing the male-imposed model of power-relationships. The narrator’s mother was the one who “signed [him] up before [he] had [his] mind made up good” (111).

Jacob manipulates “arrangements” between boys and girls randomly paired and forces them to work out “pretended relationships” until the boys come up with the best proposal. Throughout the “exercise” Flake’s male characters (especially the narrator) provide a problematic picture of masculinity, which is overloaded by stereotypical gender roles, “the girls in my family cook. The men drink brewskies and watch the games,” he says (120). The narrator agrees with Olivia, who thinks that “girls are more committed because they were born to be mothers” (123). The girls in Jacob’s exercise, however, are given enough power to control what boys have to do in order for the relationship to work. At the end of the story, the narrator learns his lesson: (132). Our narrator “did not like being used” (133). When another girl gives him her phone number he thinks twice before just calling her.