Those of us raising sons know the threshold into manhood is marked not by a singular defining act, or by any specific age or religious rite, but by a series of graduated steps, each one bearing the hallmark of 'becoming'.

My son's face is longer, leaner, and less yielding. His eyes are slightly more predatory; his anger - which is rare - more effusive and credibly threatening. His ego is established. The strength of his personality has started coming from within, and is less dependant upon my validation. He doesn't look to my reaction as often when we're watching a comedy to know when to laugh, but instead he laughs with conviction, and at the right material.

Tonight was his first shave. There wasn't much for him to shave, but he decided it was time, and I stood there purposefully without my camera and remained quietly present; absorbing this act of becoming with all my powers of observation, beaming pride and love from every cell in my body.