Why do we need to talk about masculinities with youth?

I started thinking seriously about the word ‘masculinity’ when I noticed how men around me interact, they’re always trying to appear strong or in control, even when they’re tired or need support. It made me realise that masculinity isn’t just a word or a personal habit, but part of a larger system shaped by history. Colonialism didn’t just occupy lands; it rewrote what it meant to be a man or a woman. 

In French-occupied Algeria, for instance, colonisers used the image of veiled women to claim Algerian men were oppressive, turning “saving women” into a tool to assert their own idea of masculinity. In British India, the stereotype of the “effeminate Bengali man” was invented to justify domination and push a single vision of what a “real man” should be: strong, controlling, aggressive.

These legacies didn’t vanish after independence. Today, I hear male friends confess how trapped they feel. They can’t cry, can’t show weakness, and always have to compete. And I’ve felt it too, personally, there were moments in community meetings or political spaces where my voice was dismissed just because men were assumed to be the “natural” decision-makers. That hurt, and it made me realise how deeply these ideas are ingrained.

That’s why youth need to talk about masculinities, not as an academic exercise, but as a way to free ourselves from the invisible cages we’ve inherited. For me, it’s personal because I see both the damage it does to men and women, and the opportunities we have to change it.

How can we reimagine masculinity to create alternative societies?

I often hear people talk about “positive masculinity”, but history warns us: every time we create one “ideal man,” it risks becoming just another tool of control.

In the 20th century, the “ideal soldier” or the “breadwinner father” was celebrated across many countries. On the surface, these images looked positive, but they silenced emotions, excluded women, and pressured men who didn’t fit the mold.

But history also shows us alternatives. In some Indigenous communities in Africa and Latin America, caregiving was respected as part of being a man. Even in Ancient Egypt, men were shown mourning openly or nurturing children proof that emotional repression isn’t natural, it’s constructed.

For me, reimagining masculinities means freeing boys and men from fixed categories altogether. I’ve seen this in youth groups I’ve worked with when boys realise they can be vulnerable, caring, collaborative, they discover a more human, authentic self. And personally, I’ve started noticing it in my own relationships too, how I interact with my family, friends, and colleagues. Letting men express emotions, question assumptions, or share responsibilities doesn’t make them weak, it makes our communities stronger.

In your opinion, what is the role of the new generation in this?

In my opinion, the new generation has a crucial role in shaping a better future. Youth have always been at the center of change, from student uprisings in Latin America, to the US civil rights movement, to the Arab uprisings in Egypt in 2011. Young people lead movements that redefine politics, identities, and possibilities.

Today, their role includes challenging harmful norms and behaviors, like toxic masculinity or discrimination, and creating inclusive spaces where everyone feels heard and valued. They connect struggles, linking gender justice with climate change, racism, and authoritarianism, understanding that all forms of injustice are connected. They also lead by example, showing that leadership can be collaborative, empathetic, and flexible, not based on control or hierarchy. Sharing personal experiences is equally important, because lived stories make change real and relatable.

From my own experience, I’ve worked with a few young men in my Master’s program, and one discussion stands out. We were debating a project about gender roles, and one of them admitted he always felt pressured to act tough and hide his emotions. That moment opened the floor for everyone to share their struggles, feeling invisible, balancing expectations, or confronting social pressures. It reminded me that change isn’t abstract: it’s something we create together through listening, understanding, and supporting each other.

For me, this is exactly the role of youth today: to use their awareness, courage, and connections to rewrite the rules, building a society where peace, equality, and justice come not from domination, but from empathy, inclusion, and celebrating differences.

What is your message for the other Young WILPFers?

Reimagining masculinities isn’t a side issue, it’s central to feminist peace. Wars, dictatorships, even economies, have been justified through masculine ideals of the protector, the father of the nation, or the breadwinner. Unless we dismantle these narratives, justice and equality will remain blocked.

But for me, this is also deeply personal. Studying masculinities changed how I see my own relationships, my friendships, my work, even how I interact with my family. I realized men carry heavy burdens too, and peace isn’t possible unless we free everyone from those cages.

So to my fellow young WILPFers: let’s be brave enough to bring our personal stories into this work. Let’s share our doubts, struggles, and small victories. Every time we create spaces of empathy and solidarity, we’re already building the feminist peace we dream of. For me, this work is not just academic, it’s about the people I love, the communities I belong to, and the world I want to live in.