The Quiet Power of Respectful Gestures

What a Photo with Cheerleaders Taught Me About Modern Masculinity

Travis Kelce with the hover hands (I didn’t post a picture of my son to respect his privacy)

Today, I took my son to an event meant to celebrate sports, camaraderie, and community. For him, it was a thrill—a chance to see his favorite athletes and sports announcers in person, enjoy some buffalo wings, and win a little swag. For me, it was an opportunity to spend quality time with him and explore our new city together. What I didn’t expect was to walk away with a lesson in modern masculinity.

The moment came unexpectedly. Two cheerleaders—young, stunning, and confident—approached our table, offering autographs and photos. I could see my son hesitate, torn between his shyness and the chance to pose with two local celebrities. He wouldn’t ask on his own, so I stepped in and asked for him.

As I snapped the picture, something struck me. My son stood there, hands carefully clasped in front of him, smiling brightly but respectfully. The cheerleaders mirrored his energy, posing in a way that felt equally poised and comfortable. My son didn’t try to put an arm around them, and as I looked back at a photo taken at the table before ours of a young man with the same cheerleaders, I noticed he had done the same. Hands clasped neatly in front of him. With the same shy beaming smile, I might add.

Later, I couldn’t help but contrast this with what I saw at the next table over, where a group of older men—mid-30s to 40s—were vying for their turn to pose. These men approached with a different energy, casually slinging their arms around the cheerleaders, hands landing wherever they pleased. The cheerleaders obliged, of course, but the dynamic was unmistakably different: what had been lighthearted and respectful with the boys now felt presumptuous, even careless.

This small moment got me thinking about a subtle but significant shift I’ve been noticing lately: the way male celebrities, athletes, and public figures are modeling a new kind of respect in their interactions with women. Take a closer look the next time you see a picture of an actor or athlete posing with a female fan. Increasingly, you’ll notice their hands are firmly in their pockets, held at their sides, or clearly in view without contact. It’s a small, deliberate choice, but one that sends an important message.

In a world where the boundaries of consent and respect are finally being taken seriously, and in some spaces, not at all, these gestures matter. They teach young men—consciously or not—that respect isn’t just something you declare; it’s something you embody. It’s in the way you carry yourself, the space you allow others, the cues you take, and the restraint you show.

For my son, this lesson wasn’t spelled out; it was lived. He saw the respectful example set by the young man before him. He felt the mutual ease and dignity in his interaction with the cheerleaders. He didn’t need to be told where his hands should go or how to act—he just knew.

And yet, as I watched the older men and their careless entitlement, I couldn’t help but think about how slow this cultural shift has been to reach certain generations. The contrast was stark: young boys instinctively knew what respect looked like, while grown men—men who should have known better—seemed oblivious.

We often talk about the toxic legacy of “boys will be boys,” a mindset that has resurged in recent years as some men—fueled by a political climate under Trump that encouraged aggression and dominance—have doubled down on outdated ideas of masculinity. Many of our male friends, family, and colleagues seem to embrace this mentality, reveling in the performative bravado of it all. And yet, despite this cultural noise, I see a quiet revolution underway. Respect is being redefined—not through sweeping speeches or dramatic gestures, but in subtle, everyday interactions. It’s in the way a young man poses for a picture. It’s in the way an athlete models respectful behavior, knowing the world is watching. It’s in the way my son, without being told, instinctively understood what felt right.

These small, deliberate choices give me hope. They tell me that this next generation of boys is paying attention, even when the louder voices in our culture may pull them in the opposite direction. They’re learning that respect isn’t weakness—it’s strength. They’re discovering that real masculinity isn’t about dominating others but about showing care, consideration, and integrity. They’re finding role models not just in athletes or celebrities, but in their peers and in the quiet examples set in everyday life.

And perhaps, as they grow, they’ll carry these lessons forward, helping to reshape what it means to be a man in a way that even older generations might one day adopt. These gestures—small, almost imperceptible—are the foundation of something much larger. They shape how we treat one another, how we navigate our relationships, and the kind of society we ultimately become.

As a parent, witnessing this gives me hope—not just for my son, but for the world he’s growing up in. If he and others like him can embrace this quiet revolution of respect, then perhaps the future looks brighter than we dare to imagine.