Democratic vice presidential candidate Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz embraces his son Gus Walz as his daughter Hope Walz looks on after speaking on stage during the third day of the Democratic National Convention at the United Center on August 21, 2024 in Chicago, Illinois. Delegates, politicians, and Democratic Party supporters are in Chicago for the convention, concluding with current Vice President Kamala Harris accepting her party's presidential nomination. The DNC takes place from August 19-22. (Photo by Kevin Dietsch/Getty Images)
Yesterday, thanks to a tweet from someone making a snide comment (surprise!), the internet was flooded with comments about Tim Walz’s son Gus, who stood up during his dad’s speech at the Democratic National Convention and shouted, “That’s my dad,” with tears running down his face.
So first of all, it needs to be pointed out that the woman who tweeted this ridiculous comment has built an entire career, much like Alex Jones, and one of the people running for president, around comments like this. Comments they may not even believe in, but which they know will provoke people. These people obviously don’t learn from evens like Alex Jones’ trial for his horrific comments about the Sandy Hook massacre. So she got what she wanted. Everyone was talking about her for a day, which is exactly why I’m not mentioning her name.
But that doesn’t mean the topic that her tweet inspired isn’t worthy of discussion.
Gus Walz has a learning disability called NVLD, but regardless of that, the genuine, spontaneous show of love and affection that he showed for his father in that moment clearly touched people, and it’s not hard to understand why. It was because it’s so rare in today’s society for men to show such raw emotion, especially in public. And the reason for that is something I’ve been wrestling with for years as I’ve been working on my next book, which is called “ Be a Man: Raised in the Shadow of Cowboys .”
Like most men in the West, and probably most men in America, I grew up with a father who was afraid but wouldn’t show it, who was sensitive but didn’t want people to see that, and who loved deeply but for most of his life couldn’t allow people access to that side of him. He learned this from his own father, who was as stoic and non-verbal as they come. I have no memory of my grandfather showing any affection, toward anyone. Instead, my father developed a quiet drinking problem, escaping to the garage whenever he became overwhelmed with emotions. We even knew that he had a bottle of vodka tucked away under his workshop, but in the 1960s, especially in Montana, that was considered part of the deal. Men need to take a snort now and then. It was accepted.
My father got sober in his forties, and although he still struggled with many of the same issues for the rest of his life, he did become much more comfortable showing the people around him that he cared. He was not afraid to kiss me and my brother. He told me he was proud of me, and that he loved me, and not just once in a while. He said these things often.
Do I have to explain how good that felt? I didn’t think so. It was wonderful to see that side of my father emerge as he became more comfortable with himself.
I love this stuff. And it’s just one more reason why I despise how easy it is in today’s cyberworld for people to lob these senseless criticisms toward anyone who has the courage to show who they are.
So kudos to Tim Walz for raising a son who knows that if he shows that kind of emotion, his dad isn’t going to pull him aside later and say “Son, why did you embarrass me like that in front of the entire nation?” Thank you for coaching young men to be proud to show their support for women’s rights. And thank you for giving us the kind of alternative narrative we need right now after all these years of having to watch a man spew his vitriol out into the world in large part because he was never loved by his father.
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