I Spent Six Years Trapped in a Jason Statham Movie

I went to a public boys’ school in the early 90’s. It was very much like a Jason Statham movie – what it lacked in character development, it more than made up for in violence.

Spending 6 years trapped in a Jason Statham movie changes you. I arrived as a mostly sweet, mostly innocent child. Quickly I learnt that being sweet and innocent was likely to get me punched and preyed upon. In the interest of personal safety, I learnt all the unwritten rules and did my best not to fall afoul of them.

There were a great many unwritten rules. Here are just a few:

• Don’t use fancy words like ‘afoul’
• Don’t put your hand up in class
• Don’t show any signs of intelligence
• Don’t reveal any emotions
• Definitely don’t cry
• Don’t be gay
• Don’t do anything that could possibly be perceived as being gay
• Don’t be small, fat, disabled or of a nationality that people from some other nationality don’t particularly favour
• Don’t have a name which in any way rhymes with something unpleasant
• Don’t sing
• Don’t dance (with the possible exception of head-banging)
• Don’t wear the wrong brand of shoes
• Don’t do anything to stand out
• Don’t befriend the prey or go to their rescue
• Don’t go more than three words without inserting a curse word
• Demonstrate your bad boy credentials by smoking, wagging, defacing public property and the occasional bit of arson
• Listen to N.W.A, even if gangsta rap is not really your thing and you don’t really connect with it because you are straight outta East Ryde rather than Compton
• Pretend really, really hard to be tough

Pretending to be tough is tough. It requires the drastic dismantling of the human emotional system. You must then substitute it all with aloofness, avoidance and a world-weary, melancholic disinterest in everything. This is not the most enjoyable way to live life. To many a young man this can however feel a lot safer, given that displaying genuine excitement or joy may be yet another way to earn yourself a kicking.

In discussing men’s mental health, it is often overlooked that many of us spent our formative years institutionalised in something very much resembling a Jason Statham movie. There was an overwhelming amount of moronic macho puffery, interspersed with an interminable number of fight scenes. At my school, I was one of 1,000 boys trapped. At every other school, the exact same movie was playing.

For no particular reason I was bullied, dacked, punched in the head and kicked in the nuts. I was 6 foot tall and played rugby. Compared to others I got off extremely lightly. I feel for the many who were lower down the pecking order and endured a ceaseless campaign of beatings and abuse. I can barely imagine how horrific it must have been for anyone who was trying to come to terms with their sexuality in an incredibly homophobic and dangerous environment.

Dumb violence is nothing new. It’s been used as a way to ensure conformity since Adam first put on a backpack and a depressing grey uniform. Generations before mine even got a double helping of violence, with their teachers getting in on the beatings.

The omnipresence of violence in teenage life did however seem to be forgotten by adults when they dished out their annoying advice. “Just be yourself” they would all say. Were they mad? Did they not realise that doing so would get your head flushed in the toilet? Being our authentic selves would have been heaven… but it wasn’t an option.

I was as much myself as I reasonably could be. While I tried to keep out of harm’s way, I also did my best not to slavishly conform. I did art rather than metal work, wore the wrong brand of shoes and occasionally slipped in a fancy word like ‘omnipresence’ that would make me more punchable.

Eventually I made it out. But like all my mates, I didn’t make it out unchanged.

All these learned strategies for navigating a dangerous environment play out in strange ways long after the danger disappears. It’s why when I talk to other men we tend to stick to safe surface-level topics, like footy or the weather and steer clear of anything where there’s a chance of getting all emotional. It’s why when I go to buy clothing, it’s typically only available in black, grey, navy or camo. We’re still all obeying that unwritten rule of not standing out, so in most cases anything bright isn’t even available as an option.

When you are still pretending to be tough, the simple act of watching a movie can be extremely fraught. Whenever a movie would get to a poignant, emotional bit, I would have to excuse myself to cut some onions or go to the bathroom to take some antihistamines because “my allergies were flaring up and making my eyes really runny”. One day I decided to watch Lion on a plane, not realising it was the tear-jerkiest movie in history. I pretended really, really hard to be tough, but the movie got to me. Eventually I had rivers of tears falling down my face, soaking my semi-frozen bread roll.

It was really awkward. I had to admit that even though I had a Y chromosome I also had empathy and this fully functional set of human emotions that I had been doing my best to ignore for the past thirty or so years.

But… maybe possessing these things was okay?

The truth is that pretending to be tough is a pretty sad and limiting way to live. I don’t particularly want to be Jason Statham and it does seem kind of pathetic watching a middle-aged man still trying to solve every problem through kick boxing.

Rather than go on pretending to be tough, all of us are capable of doing the thing that is actually brave. We can start breaking those unwritten rules. We can start being our authentic selves.

It’s okay to be kind, decent and gentle. It’s okay to have emotions. When things get full-on it’s also okay to reach out and talk about it. None of this will make you less of a man.

If you happen to have a son, it’s also okay for them to see you weeping while watching Life Is Beautiful, Lion or Paddington 2. It will no doubt feel weird and deeply uncomfortable, but by being bravely vulnerable and baring your humanity in such a way, you may break down some of the stigma that has crippled generations of men before. In this awkward, beautiful, teary moment, you may normalise the concept of a man having a natural emotional response.

Awkward, uncomfortable bravery could just be the path to liberation. With enough of it, boys may just grow up in a less stupid, less violent world where they don’t live in fear of being exactly who they are.

If this article has raised issues for you, we encourage you to reach out for support. Free confidential support is available by contacting Mensline on 1300 78 99 78 or Lifeline on 13 13 14.