We are entering the tail end of the entertainment industry's awards season. This is the time of year when the stars of stage, (some) television and the big screen come together, give themselves the proverbial pats on the back, and officially renew their memberships in the mutual admiration society. Sadly, some of the fanfare was missing this season, thanks to the writers strike, but I suspect we will all survive the red carpet's absence.

Still, awards, titles and ribbons aren't limited to Hollywood and entertainer types. No, we live in a trophy-hoarding society that will hand out a plaque for just about anything.

Two weeks ago, as I sat on the sofa with my wife, she snuggled up close, put her lips close to my ear and thanked me for being such a wonderful man and the best husband in the world.

"You deserve an award," she said.

"What makes you think I am so deserving?" I asked, hoping for a few more compliments.

She said some flattering things, but the list was not nearly as long as I would have liked. Beggars can't be choosers, my mother used to say.

Still, it was her last response that truly disturbed me: "I am so lucky ... you don't hit me."

I sat, dazed for a moment, but soon realized that this was not the first time I had heard a statement like this.

I have heard it in the grocery aisle, at the family picnic and during the Saturday morning football game.

"Oh, he is a real good to her. He doesn't hit her."

Yes, I had heard it before, I just didn't expect to hear it from my wife.

Is that what our world has come to? Have the standards for husbandhood and fatherhood dropped so low that the absence of abuse merits an award?

I must admit that the statement saddened me. I know I am not perfect, but I was sure that I offered more to the relationship than safety. Then I realized the scope of the remark. It seemed to me that in that moment she was not only speaking for herself in particular, but for women in general.

Perhaps it was the result of the recent violence that invaded our lives in the form of the Cyrus Belt tragedy and the Tupuola beating. Maybe it is part of the fabric of the gender; part and parcel of the feminine collective subconscious after generations of abuse. Regardless of the reason, it is a sad statement when an entire segment of society lives in fear.

No, I am afraid this is one award I will have to refuse. Please don't give me a trophy for doing what is expected of me.

I am not supposed to hit my wife or beat my kids. I am supposed to care for them. I am supposed to be the one they trust most, not the one they fear.

Besides, it is an insult to all the fathers and husbands out there who are involved in the lives of their family. They don't just lecture, they listen. They don't dominate, they participate.

There may be very little money left over after the bills are paid, but where money fails, time succeeds. When nominated for that award, the one given to the husband or father who gives of himself for the greater good of his family, I will gladly accept.

Michael C. DeMattos is a member of the faculty at the University of Hawai'i School of Social Work. Born and raised on the Wai'anae Coast, he now lives in Kane'ohe with his wife, daughter, two dogs and two mice.