Johnny Cole
Johnny is a marketing tech consultant by day, men’s work facilitator by night. He began his men’s work journey while attending the University of Rochester. He presided over an organization called Men Opposing Violence Everywhere (MOVE) that focused on sexual assault prevention education. During a 5th year scholarship of gender studies coursework he interned and then worked full time at the Willow Domestic Violence Center in Rochester, NY.
After graduating, Johnny realized his responsibility in reaching other men to unlearn patriarchy and thus improve social conditions for all, and pivoted to a formal men’s work practice - leading his first men’s retreat for Hey Brother Co.’s inaugural cohort in July of 2022.
We spoke with Johnny about culturally relative conceptions of masculinity, and how his own notions of masculinity have changed over time.
You can read an amended transcript of our interview below or watch the conversation here.
Johnny, welcome to Under the Hood Talk. Can you tell us a bit about yourself and your company?
My name is Johnny Cole, and I am the founder and CEO of a company called Hey Brother Co. We are a men's work organization that equips men with emotional skills and builds community to help them unlearn patriarchal masculinity and become embodied community leaders.
Our vision is to create a world where boys and men are free to express themselves exactly how they want, without the constraints of a rigid box or set of background rules dictating their behavior. I want a world where men and boys can truly be themselves, whether that’s in how they dress, speak, walk, play, or love. Very few men walk through life unencumbered by the weight of masculine expectations, and that’s the core of the work I do now.
This is my company, which I recently founded full-time, although I also work a nine-to-five job in the tech space as a consultant for an AI chatbot company. I’m 25 and from Cleveland, Ohio, and my family is from South Africa. I got into this work in college because I was passionate about addressing gender-based violence. Growing up, I had many female friends, a strong mom, and a sister, and I noticed that a lot of women close to me disclosed experiences of assault or coercion, often involving boys I knew from sports or social circles. I started to realize there was a harmful undercurrent with men and boys regarding their attitudes toward women.
In college, I joined an organization called Men Opposing Violence Everywhere, where we educated fraternity members on sexual assault prevention. We taught what was then termed "toxic masculinity," explored rape culture, and examined how implicit behaviors encourage sexual violence on college campuses. In my last year of college, I also completed a year of gender studies coursework and interned at a domestic violence center, which exposed me to the direct impact of violence in our communities, largely perpetuated by men towards others. I see this violence as stemming from a deep masculine wound.
What does masculinity mean to you?
Masculinity to me now is about aligning closer and closer with full confidence in myself, closing the gap between what I say and what I do. If I want to excel at calisthenics or physical strength because it brings me joy, that feels like a masculine pursuit. If I want to be a supportive and responsible figure for my mom and sister, that also feels like part of my masculine core. If I want to wear bright colors or paint a mural with pinks and lavenders, that’s a part of my self-expression. However, much of my early understanding of masculinity came from society, movies, and my own father, who used violence to control his world. I grew up believing real men hurt others to get what they wanted, that domination was the essence of masculinity. I don’t believe that anymore, though unlearning it has been a process.
Masculinity is also socially contextual. Different cultures and time periods define masculinity in varied ways. For example, in the 1700s in France, pink was a masculine color, and men wore high heels. Today, societal norms have shifted drastically. Many qualities currently labeled as "masculine" don’t align with my values; they don’t make me feel authentic, kind, or emotionally honest. So, masculinity for me now is about authenticity, encouraging others to be themselves.
What is ‘men’s work?’
Finding a community of men I can trust and rely on has been crucial. I define "men’s work" as any organized activity for a man’s self-development, growth, and healing, especially in a collective setting. If socializing with other men mainly involves drinking beer, watching sports, or gaming without any deeper discussion, it isn’t entirely serving us. Men’s spaces should encourage reflection, asking questions about our values and the kind of men we want to be, fostering growth and solidarity. Other groups, like safe spaces for queer individuals, Black communities, and women, have developed solidarity spaces, but there’s a gap for men. Most of my interactions with male friends in sports or social settings involved patriarchal norms without genuine emotional support or growth.
My name is Johnny Cole, and I am the founder and CEO of a company called Hey Brother Co. We are a men's work organization that equips men with emotional skills and builds community to help them unlearn patriarchal masculinity and become embodied community leaders.
Our vision is to create a world where boys and men are free to express themselves exactly how they want, without the constraints of a rigid box or set of background rules dictating their behavior. I want a world where men and boys can truly be themselves, whether that’s in how they dress, speak, walk, play, or love. Very few men walk through life unencumbered by the weight of masculine expectations, and that’s the core of the work I do now.
This is my company, which I recently founded full-time, although I also work a nine-to-five job in the tech space as a consultant for an AI chatbot company. I’m 25 and from Cleveland, Ohio, and my family is from South Africa. I got into this work in college because I was passionate about addressing gender-based violence. Growing up, I had many female friends, a strong mom, and a sister, and I noticed that a lot of women close to me disclosed experiences of assault or coercion, often involving boys I knew from sports or social circles. I started to realize there was a harmful undercurrent with men and boys regarding their attitudes toward women.
In college, I joined an organization called Men Opposing Violence Everywhere, where we educated fraternity members on sexual assault prevention. We taught what was then termed "toxic masculinity," explored rape culture, and examined how implicit behaviors encourage sexual violence on college campuses. In my last year of college, I also completed a year of gender studies coursework and interned at a domestic violence center, which exposed me to the direct impact of violence in our communities, largely perpetuated by men towards others. I see this violence as stemming from a deep masculine wound.
What does masculinity mean to you?
Masculinity to me now is about aligning closer and closer with full confidence in myself, closing the gap between what I say and what I do. If I want to excel at calisthenics or physical strength because it brings me joy, that feels like a masculine pursuit. If I want to be a supportive and responsible figure for my mom and sister, that also feels like part of my masculine core. If I want to wear bright colors or paint a mural with pinks and lavenders, that’s a part of my self-expression. However, much of my early understanding of masculinity came from society, movies, and my own father, who used violence to control his world. I grew up believing real men hurt others to get what they wanted, that domination was the essence of masculinity. I don’t believe that anymore, though unlearning it has been a process.
Masculinity is also socially contextual. Different cultures and time periods define masculinity in varied ways. For example, in the 1700s in France, pink was a masculine color, and men wore high heels. Today, societal norms have shifted drastically. Many qualities currently labeled as "masculine" don’t align with my values; they don’t make me feel authentic, kind, or emotionally honest. So, masculinity for me now is about authenticity, encouraging others to be themselves.
What is ‘men’s work?’
Finding a community of men I can trust and rely on has been crucial. I define "men’s work" as any organized activity for a man’s self-development, growth, and healing, especially in a collective setting. If socializing with other men mainly involves drinking beer, watching sports, or gaming without any deeper discussion, it isn’t entirely serving us. Men’s spaces should encourage reflection, asking questions about our values and the kind of men we want to be, fostering growth and solidarity. Other groups, like safe spaces for queer individuals, Black communities, and women, have developed solidarity spaces, but there’s a gap for men. Most of my interactions with male friends in sports or social settings involved patriarchal norms without genuine emotional support or growth.
One of the most impactful things I did was start a men’s work practice. If you come from a background with harmful views of masculinity, or if you’ve experienced abuse, the strongest thing you can do is choose deliberate gentleness. True masculinity should be about protecting people and doing the right thing—not reinforcing hierarchies or one-upping others. I found that being part of a men's group helped me redefine these values and connect with other men who inspire me and push me to grow.
In my work with Hey Brother Co, I created spaces for men to explore healthy masculinity. Last summer, I led my first healthy masculinity retreat because I felt disconnected and wished I had a circle of men I could rely on. I realized that while I knew many wonderful men individually, none of them knew each other. So, I invited nine men from across the country to a cabin retreat on the Mississippi River. We watched The Mask You Live In (a documentary by The Representation Project), did yoga, played sports, did breathwork, and participated in guided journaling and discussions on topics like “What does being a man mean to you?” We even did intimate exercises like eye-gazing, challenging each other to look into another man’s eyes for two minutes. That retreat changed my life, and now that group meets every Sunday for a virtual men’s circle, where we check in with each other, do breathwork, and discuss a range of topics. Right now, we’re reading The Will to Change by bell hooks, exploring masculinity and love.
Leading by example and being vulnerable has been essential. I openly acknowledge that I don’t have everything figured out, and that openness invites others to let their guard down too. I’ve lost friends to suicide and seen others silently struggling, lacking the emotional skills to express themselves. Men often feel targeted or shamed for their lack of emotional expressiveness, but the reality is many of us were never taught how to articulate our feelings. My goal is to create spaces for men to build these skills together, to train ourselves in emotional regulation and self-expression.
At Hey Brother Co, I lead a weekly invite-only men’s group and a monthly open men’s group on the second Tuesday of each month. The monthly group includes an educational component followed by discussion. For example, one session covered the "men’s isolation epidemic" and the lack of community for men. Recently, we discussed masculinity and sex, examining how boys learn about sex and how these messages shape us as adults. We ground each session with breathwork, and I’m working on expanding our offerings to cover specific topics like harmful models of masculinity in media, analyzing figures like Jordan Peterson and Andrew Tate, and exploring why they resonate with many men.
I’ve also facilitated somatic release ceremonies to help men feel comfortable releasing pent-up emotions, including crying. Many men have told me they haven’t cried in years, so creating a safe, guided space for that release can be profoundly healing. Sometimes, this work is as simple as providing language and tools for self-expression. With practice and support, men can find healthy ways to navigate their emotions, and I’m honored to help create those spaces.
In my work with Hey Brother Co, I created spaces for men to explore healthy masculinity. Last summer, I led my first healthy masculinity retreat because I felt disconnected and wished I had a circle of men I could rely on. I realized that while I knew many wonderful men individually, none of them knew each other. So, I invited nine men from across the country to a cabin retreat on the Mississippi River. We watched The Mask You Live In (a documentary by The Representation Project), did yoga, played sports, did breathwork, and participated in guided journaling and discussions on topics like “What does being a man mean to you?” We even did intimate exercises like eye-gazing, challenging each other to look into another man’s eyes for two minutes. That retreat changed my life, and now that group meets every Sunday for a virtual men’s circle, where we check in with each other, do breathwork, and discuss a range of topics. Right now, we’re reading The Will to Change by bell hooks, exploring masculinity and love.
Leading by example and being vulnerable has been essential. I openly acknowledge that I don’t have everything figured out, and that openness invites others to let their guard down too. I’ve lost friends to suicide and seen others silently struggling, lacking the emotional skills to express themselves. Men often feel targeted or shamed for their lack of emotional expressiveness, but the reality is many of us were never taught how to articulate our feelings. My goal is to create spaces for men to build these skills together, to train ourselves in emotional regulation and self-expression.
At Hey Brother Co, I lead a weekly invite-only men’s group and a monthly open men’s group on the second Tuesday of each month. The monthly group includes an educational component followed by discussion. For example, one session covered the "men’s isolation epidemic" and the lack of community for men. Recently, we discussed masculinity and sex, examining how boys learn about sex and how these messages shape us as adults. We ground each session with breathwork, and I’m working on expanding our offerings to cover specific topics like harmful models of masculinity in media, analyzing figures like Jordan Peterson and Andrew Tate, and exploring why they resonate with many men.
I’ve also facilitated somatic release ceremonies to help men feel comfortable releasing pent-up emotions, including crying. Many men have told me they haven’t cried in years, so creating a safe, guided space for that release can be profoundly healing. Sometimes, this work is as simple as providing language and tools for self-expression. With practice and support, men can find healthy ways to navigate their emotions, and I’m honored to help create those spaces.