Heavy. Silent. Men Part I

Editor’s Note: Beyond the Third Sunday in June

To the men, the fathers, and the builders in our community,

Father’s Day was never meant to be a single, fleeting Sunday in June where we hand out a card, say a quick thank you, and then return to business as usual. True leadership, sacrifice, and presence cannot be neatly packaged into twenty-four hours. Our men need to be recognized for their true worth, celebrated for what they uniquely bring to the family dynamic, and deeply honoured and respected for the relentless hard work they put in every single day.

I want to be clear; this is not an excuse for the men who are failing to handle their responsibilities. Accountability is part of our standard, but we must also acknowledge reality. In our society, within the framework of how this modern world has been engineered, men (and specifically African Caribbean men) are navigating a landscape of hidden pressures and systemic challenges that are rarely understood by the mainstream. From the psychological weight of performance to the unspoken emotional tolls of leadership, the modern battlefield for our men is real.

As a newspaper and as a collective, we refuse to stay silent on this. We must do our part as a community to wrap around our men, offer real support, and build environments where they can heal, grow, and thrive.

Happy Men’s Health Month. We see you, we honour you, and we respect your strength.

Simone Jennifer Smith

Editor-in-Chief, Toronto Caribbean Newspaper

There is a version of the Afro/Indo Caribbean man the world recognizes instantly. He is steady. Unshakeable. A provider. A protector. The one who figures it out, no matter the cost. He is the rock, but rocks don’t speak.

They don’t say that the climb feels steeper when the playing field was never level. They don’t admit that excellence is sometimes driven by fear, not ambition. They don’t confess how heavy it feels to be needed by everyone, while rarely being asked what they need in return.

So, we asked a different question. Not about success. Not about statistics. Not about performance. We asked what lives underneath the role. What came back was the truth.

Across generations, professions, and lived experiences, Afro/Indo Caribbean men in the Greater Toronto Area spoke about pressure that begins early and rarely lets up. About the quiet agreement to carry more, say less, and keep moving. About the cost of being reliable in a world that often does not extend the same reliability back.

What emerges in these pages is a portrait of endurance. Of men who have learned to survive, to lead, to provide, and who are now, in quiet and careful ways, asking a deeper question, at what cost?

This is where the conversation begins….

Dalton Higgins (Publicist and Author)

“I view most Black men of my ilk who are somewhat able to ascend, progress, inspire, uplift, and protect (their brood firstly), as survivors more than anything. We carry deep scars that not even a Kim Kardashian-styled cosmetic surgeon could hide or obscure, metaphorically speaking.

Many of my comrades, at our core, feel we have to outperform, outthink, outsmart, and out maneuver our non-Black peers because we know that the playing field is nowhere near close to being level, and that’s exhausting. We don’t necessarily have the right to be average or mediocre; that’s a one-way ticket to hell on earth, if you are Black and male. As a result, sometimes that drive to be excellent (and not average) is really just a fear of failure. Being afraid of letting down your family and community who depend on you. When non-Black people ask me how I am doing, do they genuinely want the real answer? I think about this (James) Baldwinism often; “To be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a rage almost all the time.”

Thankfully I’m able to direct those raw, real energies elsewhere, into my work, into parenting, into giving back, and in some ways it’s working. I can and will not be stopped (and I dare you to try) is my mantra. Resilience became my middle name, mostly out of necessity, not choice.

That being said, being strong all the time is tiring. Sometimes I just want to unplug, zone out and listen to BigXthaPlug mixtapes, and yes, there are days when I don’t have all the answers. I don’t want to be a Black Panther, and it would be great to be viewed as something other than a provider or protector, but to be protected.”

Charles Duncan Waterman (Global Real Estate Advisor)

“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of ove and of a sound mind.” 2 Timothy 1:7

“My truth is that I’m growing older and have a family I love dearly. Therefore, it’s my responsibility to do whatever I can in the hope of never becoming a burden to them. As such, I control the things that will ensure that I live a long life with mental clarity, physical strength, and the ability to inspire others.”

Sean Mauricette (Speaker, Poet, Innovator, Philanthropist)

“The truth/fear I have is that our women have become increasingly disconnected to the ways to truly understand what we are dealing with and the complexities that go along with it. The issue is also that us men tend to internalize things. So how can our women in 2026 find ways to still look for signs that the man is drowning: mentally, spiritually, financially, emotionally? What are his cues, subtle cries for help, that he needs help? How do our women become reconnected to us and how do we reconnect with them? Align with them when we don’t have the words. In an age that is transactional. Can she learn to understand me in this ever increasingly stressful time? Does she even have the desire to want to understand, re imagine and enact?

Ideally the man should meet her halfway, be open, etc. but he himself may not know how to communicate at times for fear of being viewed as lesser than, a failure or even having his feelings weaponized against him. We need help, we cannot go it alone. We need help even when we can’t find the words. In 2026 can we be sophisticated enough within our community to understand our partner who is sinking?

At times before our very eyes and with a smile on our face, but whose smiles surface and heart heavy.”

One truth I carry that I rarely say out loud is that sometimes I get tired of being strong.

Tychon Carter (TEDx Speaker | Mental Performance Coach)

“One truth I carry that I rarely say out loud is that sometimes I get tired of being strong. There are times when I have no idea what I’m doing, or if it’s even going to work out.

I love being someone people can depend on. I love showing up for my people, leading, building, creating, protecting, providing, and trying to be the man I wish I had, but the truth is, sometimes that role gets heavy, and the weight is difficult to articulate. It feels like something has shifted in this generation, where the uncertainty sometimes feels unbearable.

Sometimes I want to be held too. Sometimes I want someone to check on me without me having to explain that I need it. Sometimes I want to not have the answer, not be the leader, not have to figure everything out.

I think a lot of men carry that silently. We’re taught to be solid, but not always taught how to be supported. So, my hope is that more men get to experience spaces where they can be honest without feeling weak, emotional without feeling judged, and supported without feeling like they failed.”

Ric Johnson

“That after all you have done, love for you will have to be interpreted, don’t expect to be told.  You, however, will also be expected to verbalize that emotion first and validate frequently on many occasions, to many people, in different spheres. Don’t expect the same in return. After a while, it takes its toll.”

 

Maleek Powell (Content Creator | Speaker, Based in Jamaica)

“The truth I rarely get to speak out loud is this; that without the role, I feel worthless. That without something to provide, something to protect, something to prove, I am not sure anyone stays.

That fear didn’t come from nowhere. It was handed to me. You are told from early that responsibility is your identity, and the flip side of that message is just as loud, that a man who doesn’t measure up to those expectations is a failure. Not struggling. Not human. A failure.

What I hope for (and I hold this genuinely) is that Caribbean men will find their way, whether through therapy, fellowship, or community, to a simple but radical truth: your value is not a metric. You are worthy from the jump. Before the job. Before the title. Before you could provide anything for anyone.

I believe that when men start to really own that, everything shifts. The financial decisions. The relationships: intimate and platonic. The patterns that have quietly been stumbling blocks for generations. So much of what holds us back is rooted in that one unexamined wound; the belief that we have to earn the right to exist in people’s lives. We don’t, and the sooner we know that the freer we become.”

Many men struggle to communicate emotionally, not because they do not care, but because they were never taught how.

Kwame Osei (Keynote Speaker | TEDx Speaker

“Over the past year, I have been working on allowing myself to feel more deeply and to better understand my emotions. Many men are not raised to recognize, explore, or openly discuss what they are feeling. Instead, we are often taught to be strong, stoic, and resilient. We are taught to push through challenges without showing vulnerability.

As a result, many men grow up without the emotional tools needed to fully understand themselves or communicate their feelings effectively. The ability to identify, process, and express emotions is a skill that must be learned, yet many men are never given the opportunity or encouragement to develop it. Imagine feeling something deeply but not having the ability to acknowledge it, understand it, or articulate it. What do you do? For many men, the answer is simple: you stay silent, suppress it, and carry it alone until it begins to weigh on you.

I believe this has significant consequences, particularly in relationships. Many men struggle to communicate emotionally, not because they do not care, but because they were never taught how. Unfortunately, this can sometimes lead to criticism or misunderstanding when their emotional limitations are viewed as unwillingness rather than a lack of experience, guidance, or emotional education.

If we want men to be healthier partners, fathers, friends, and leaders, we must create environments where emotional intelligence is encouraged, emotional expression is taught, and vulnerability is viewed as a strength rather than a weakness. The reality is that many men are trying to navigate emotions they were never given the tools to understand in the first place.”

Dwayne Rutherford (Founder & CEO at Debonair Corporate Events | BEBC Certified)

“One truth I rarely say out loud is that I have not built anything alone. As Black men, we are often taught to carry strength like armour. We speak about resilience, discipline, and pushing through, but not enough about the people who quietly hold us up.

When COVID came, my business could have disappeared. Events stopped. Revenue became uncertain. The future was unclear, but my Black clients continued to show up, refer, trust, encourage, and invest. That support did more than help my business survive. It reminded me that our community is more connected than we sometimes give it credit for.

My hope is that we speak more openly about that. Not only about struggle, but about how we protect each other, believe in each other, and create room for one another to rise. I carry deep gratitude for that, and I want us to name it more often.”