Are our sons ready to roll?

In the midst of terror, heroes – big men in sturdy jackets and we-mean-business helmets. Men working shoulder-to-shoulder – the double rows of double stripes a ribbon of the reality of hope.

Joined by men who built those towers, now ready with the same calloused hands to pick up the pieces. Men who could handle the sweat, the dirt and disorder, the danger ahead.

Like the guys on Flight 93 – ready to roll.

A 911 to parents: Will our sons be ready? Only if we can admit all the ways we’ve sold them short.

We need to repent for neglecting to affirm our sons as men. We need to repent for the damage inflicted on our boys because ’70s feminist theory filtered down to the classrooms, playgrounds, and backyards of today. We need to repent for treating boys as aberrations from the “normal” human template (i.e., girl). We need to repent of trying to dominate and control our sons to turn them into sensitive, lip-biting, manipulative men.

We need to start respecting men for who they are, and rejoicing whenever a son shows signs that he might someday actually become one too.

Some mothers have already figured this out. Some may be just awakening to the discrimination against their little boys. Some may be the ones still blindly discriminating.

I was blind once. As a ’70s radical feminist, I believed boys and girls started out the same. But in the 80’s I ran into irrefutable evidence I’d been wrong all along: I gave birth to four sons.

Now I’ve learned up close and personal what boys are made of. I’ve finally seen that for every “downside” to masculinity, there is a big, big plus. Take for instance, tunnel vision. Fact: the very trait that makes men irritatingly careless also makes them reassuringly fearless – which comes in pretty handy when I don’t feel up to dealing with scary things like big dogs, chainsaws and bad neighborhoods. Or rescuing victims or looking for survivors.

I also saw that my natural impulse as a mother was to hobble my sons – Be careful, you’ll fall off! … But football’s so dangerous – never allowing them to take the risks they wanted/needed to take.

Thank God I started biting my tongue before it did too much damage. Thank God I got over my prissy strictures about toy guns and then my irrational fears about real ones (more on this next column) and let my husband take charge of training our sons to be defenders and protectors.

Thank God I was relieved of spending their boyhood trying to shape them into the good little lads I might have thought they should be.

And no other women had a chance to either. Wise to be wary of government schools where female-majority faculties run the show along weaker sex standards, enshrining their prejudices as rules and forbidding all the things that boys love to do – the rough-and-tumble games and competitive one-upmanship that bring out the best in boys.

Wouldn’t it be nice if they could just behave themselves as well as the girls?

This overriding goal has led to an epidemic of Ritalin-drugged American boys (5 million drugged school kids, 90 percent boys), with teachers and mothers reporting “miraculous” results: boys who no longer act like boys.

Because I home-schooled my boys, they never got the masculinity knocked out of them. Of course, I worked to direct it in a positive way, to refine their character, to prepare them to be tender warriors, men who would love their future families deeply and not be afraid to change a diaper.

Their dad and I taught them traditional stories of American heroes – you know, the ones now replaced or reviled in many schools – George Washington, Daniel Boone, Lewis and Clark. We talked about things like courage and loyalty and sacrifice.

We spoke of the future not in terms of what they wanted to do but who they wanted to be. Wanting bigger men than the stunted protagonists of “American Beauty” or “American Pie,” we opted instead for movies like “Henry V” (1990), “Glory,” “Memphis Belle,” “High Noon” – vivid portrayals of courage, loyalty and sacrifice.

But the heroism evoked by the 9/11 attacks catapulted our conversations from the realms of history and theory and made them wrenchingly real.

It’s been a long time coming. My sons have grown up watching men in high places dedicated only to saving their own hides. It’s been an ache in my heart that my generation couldn’t offer them more.

Now, at last, all our sons have seen there’s more to reach for than being nice and getting along with others. Because there will always be those who scorn such bland commands, because there will always be those who mean harm, because there is evil, there will always be a need for those willing to stand in the gap, to give their lives that others may live.

Mothers and fathers, the time for candles and makeshift altars is over. Now let’s begin. Let’s get our sons ready to roll!