Our young men aren’t lazy. A lot of them are just stuck

The following is a Flintside opinion piece by Trace Fisher, a Fatherhood Practitioner at Involved Dad in Flint, the defensive line coach at Grand Blanc High School, and a father of two sons. He is the author of Unstuck: Becoming the Person You’re Meant to Be, available on Amazon. Have an idea for an essay or opinion piece you’d like to write for Flintside? Email editor@flintside.com.

FLINT, Michigan — A while back, a school came to me with a problem they kept seeing.

It was the same kind of young man, over and over. He wasn’t in trouble. He wasn’t a “bad kid.” He just wasn’t moving. He didn’t want to work. He didn’t want to achieve much of anything. He was living in his parents’ basement, on his phone, while life went on without him.

They asked me to build a program for those young men. I said yes. The longer I sat with that request, the more I realized it wasn’t really a school problem. It’s a problem a lot of families in this area are living with right now.

I see versions of that young man all the time. My day job is Fatherhood Practitioner at Involved Dad here in Michigan. In the fall, I coach the defensive line at Grand Blanc High School. Between those two places, I spend a lot of time around men, young and grown, and what I notice most isn’t laziness. It’s a lack of guidance and confidence. At Involved Dad, I see so many broken men who were once broken boys. I see men who struggle to know how to be a father.

That hits hardest for young men who don’t have a father around. Nobody walked them through how to bounce back from a setback. Nobody showed them how to keep a job when the boss is hard on them, or how to talk to themselves after they mess up. So when life gets heavy, they freeze. The phone is easy. The basement feels safe. Trying and failing in front of people does not.

I understand that, because I lived a version of it. I grew up without a father, and I learned a lot of life’s hardest lessons the hard way. I had to pay for every lesson I ever learned. Nobody handed me a playbook. I had to figure out a lot of it on my own, and I know what it feels like to be stuck. I also know the relief that comes when you finally see a clearer path forward.

That’s where my book, Unstuck: Becoming the Person You’re Meant to Be, came from. Much of it grew out of my work with young men struggling to launch into adulthood. But as I wrote, I kept picturing my own two sons. I wanted to put down on paper the lessons and values I hope they grow up understanding. A lot of it is what I wish somebody had told me sooner.

I didn’t write it only for young men, though. I wrote it for anyone, “whether you’re 16 or 60, who feels held back by their circumstances or their own thoughts.” Stuck doesn’t check your age. It’s the 18-year-old with no idea what comes after graduation. It’s the 23-year-old trapped in a job or a mindset that doesn’t fit. It’s the grown man or woman who has quietly felt for years that there’s more to them than the life they’re living.

Coaching has taught me a lot about this. I’ve coached in several school districts, most of them far less affluent than Grand Blanc. The ZIP codes change. What young men need doesn’t. On the defensive line, nobody gets better by talking about it. You get better through reps. You get coached, you get knocked down, you get back in your stance, and you go again.

The young men I’ve coached on Friday nights aren’t that different from the young man in the basement. The big difference is that someone is in their ear every day. Someone tells them the truth, expects something from them, and believes they can get better.

That’s what I think a lot of our young people are missing. Not another motivational speech. Guidance. Somebody who shows up, and a next step small enough to take today.

So I tried to write the book the way I coach. It has no promises of overnight success or magical transformations. It’s laid out week by week, and each week tackles something I’ve watched keep people stuck: limiting beliefs and bad habits; chasing the quick hit of dopamine instead of building discipline; pride; motivation; grit; and how we treat the people around us. Every chapter ends with a reflection journal and small action steps for the week, because reading about change and actually doing it are two different things.

Flint is home for me. I grew up on the corner of Barth and Forest Hill. My family moved to the suburbs when I was in second grade, but I spent most weekends back on Barth with my grandparents. I’ve never really left the Flint community, and today I live in Flint again.

I love this city, and I want to see it strong. There’s so much going for it, and I’m trying to do my part. This community knows how to get knocked down and get back up. That toughness is already here. Sometimes it just needs someone to point it in a direction.

So if you’re reading this and you feel stuck, or you’re watching someone you love stay stuck, here’s what I’d tell you. Feeling stuck does not have to be permanent. As I put it in the book, “The difference between staying stuck and moving forward is what we do next.” Pick one small thing and do it today, even if you don’t feel ready.

And if you know a young man sitting in that basement, don’t write him off. Sit down with him. Ask him what he wants his life to look like. Be the voice he hasn’t had. Reaching out for help isn’t weakness, and offering it isn’t either. Sometimes that’s all it takes to get the first rep in.