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BERMUDA | RSS PODCAST

The measure of a man

Martha asks: is a man measured by his wealth and good looks or by what is in his heart?

By Martha Myron“The true measure of a man is how he treats someone who can do him absolutely no good.” — (Samuel Johnson)Is the true measure of a man that of a quiet hero? Bermuda has generated her share of home-grown heroes, humble and courageous servants in the face of great adversity. Revisiting the Bermuda Maritime Museum, you can feel the huge emotional impact permeating the Bermuda War Exhibits’ rooms.Bermuda, such a tiny community, sent so many men (and women) off to fight oppression, injustice, and evil. It was not even our battle to wage during the Great and Second World Wars, yet so many went so willingly.Sit in the churchlike bunker on recycled church pews and witness the living history video of these elderly Bermudian survivors as they tell us with quiet dignity of their horrendous experiences (we call it courage) during midst of battles.See collections of precious possessions of those lost forever from Bermudian families; see (and read) almost seventy-year old terse and touching telegraphs, creased and brown with age, so lovingly preserved of a soldier’s ultimate sacrifice.Realise and honour these tragic memories of our soldiers — so very dear to each and every bereft Bermudian family. They were heroes; they did what had to be done.Is the measure of a man being movie star handsome with rugged cowboy character? To our older generation, Roy Rogers, (and his horse Trigger) was the epitome of moral fibre, the strong silent cowboy of the old West.A humble farm boy, he achieved fame making movies and singing songs. It was not always so easy; his early jobs were spent in shoe factories, driving trucks, and working as a farm labourer.A superb athlete — hard physical demanding jobs can have that side effect — he had to learn to ride a horse (and the art of the pistol quick draw) in order to be an authentic cowboy.In their real lives, Roy and his wife Dale devoted themselves (and their fortune) to severely abused and neglected children, adopting four into their family of nine. They established the Happy Trails Children’s Foundation for children, to help those who cannot defend themselves.Is the measure of a man having a conscience? Children's’ television star, Mr Rogers said: “It’s a beautiful day in the neighbourhood”.Fred Rogers was a thin shy man with a red sweater, slippers and calm reassuring voice. A friend used to say that he moved so slow, he had to be on full-time tranquillisers. Children sat quietly in front of his programme as he caringly assured them that it was OK to be afraid of the dark, and that soon they would be old enough to not wear diapers.He emphasised that Daddies were there to protect them and that one day the boys would be Daddies, too, and take care of their children.We look back on those days as sweet innocence. Fred remembered exactly what it was like to be a child; the fear of being bullied, the confusion of learning to socialise with other children, walking into a new school, or the elation of learning something tough, like tying your shoes.Made famous by the not-really-unkind parodies of Eddie Murphy on Saturday Night Live, Fred advanced his caring communication agenda with children, unperturbed by those who dismissed him as a dorky, boring nerd.Fred was an ordained minister, committed to children’s welfare, their place in the family and their future role in society.His representation of a kind strong caring parent generated a thirty-year legacy of caring family communication skills, permanently embedded in our young children, now mature adults.Fred would be laughed off the reality show sets today, no way cool or ripped enough for some new male images. Character is no longer interesting to some in the new generation, and yet his legacy lives on, show after show.Is the measure of a man a powerhouse of financial and business success? In economic worlds, men and women are evaluated on their performance. How can they not be?Successful businesses create jobs, drive the economy, and give back to communities through financial charitable endeavours. The quest for business profits and the pinnacle of success is driven by powerful competitive forces in a race that often leaves the detritus of former wives, children and friends behind. Power means successful perfection. Is a man a better father because he is powerful and financially successful?But how do we measure ourselves, regardless of gender? Today, peer performance reinforces our self-worth, self-image and how we measure others.Have we come to value ourselves based on accomplishments only, not on our worth as human beings? Does it matter what road we take to achieve that success, as long as we are prosperous? Should we measure ourselves by the size of our investment portfolios, what kind of cars we drive, what size of homes we live in, and what kind of toys we own?Is it true that no matter how much is attained, it may never be enough to satisfy personal pride?Or, is real personal success measured by becoming a hero to someone else, by being a role model, by caring for those too young and too vulnerable to fend for themselves, by giving hope to those who have none. Quietly, efficiently without accolades, just doing what has to be done,So, how do we measure a man? Perhaps not at all by what he has, what he has earned, his stature in the community, how intelligent he is, how good looking his appearance, but rather by what is found within his heart.Look around you. How many everyday heroes do you know? How many men go quietly about their business, supporting a family, sometimes two or three families without much complaining, with humour, grace and dignity?Tell every single one of these men, whether they be fathers, brothers, uncles, nephews, friends, or not even near relatives, that you are proud of them. They do what had to be done — they do right thing. They all epitomise “the true measure of a man.”Happy Father’s Day to my dear husband, my Dad, our son, son-in-law, brothers, and to all those fathers present or gone before.