Manhood 1: To Fight or Not To Fight
Written by Jason DaWayne Smith
I loved growing up as a kid on Chicago’s South Side. The stories of today’s violence and hardships existed then as they do now, but family, love, relationships - these are the things I remember most. The relationships with the boys and men around me, serve as the foundation of my childhood memories. It’s for this reason that a recent listen to Slate’s new podcast, “Man Up” hosted by Aymann Ismail, stirred some uncomfortable, yet personal thoughts on an activity many circles of men call a right of passage - Fighting.
I’ll get to my story soon, but in Man Up’s pilot episode, Ismail interviews Eric Kelly, a man some call the best boxing trainer ever. Before Eric was a trainer however, he was one of the best amateur boxers in the world. A four time national boxing champion and member of the US Olympic team. There’s plenty to read up on if you’re interested in Eric’s history and impact today, but for this story, I found myself intrigued by, and maybe even connected to Eric’s story of learning how to fight. How the concept of fighting - physically using your body to harm someone else or defend yourself from the harm of others - became something that Eric saw as being critical to “manhood”.
“In life…you need violence…you can’t keep turning your back, because then you become a target…you gotta be a man…you can’t keep being the victim”
In Eric’s young life, he saw a darker side of the world. Most notably a daily reality of being bullied. Eric recalls a time when 3 boys tried to jump him as a young Brooklyn kid. After several bullying experiences - some as simple as taking his toys to extremes of physical violence - Eric was fed up, so much so, that at 10 years old, young Eric picked up a chain and swung it so hard that it scared the kids away and helped Eric live on to another day. When coming home, Eric’s dad, had enough and decided that it was time to get young Eric into a boxing gym because this was what it meant to be “a man”. To be able to defend yourself, to show your strength and courage, to establish your presence in your community. In Eric’s words “In life…you need violence…you can’t keep turning your back, because then you become a target…you gotta be a man…you can’t keep being the victim”.
As a dad, I really struggled with Eric’s perspective. In one way, I could identify with Eric’s experience in it’s entirety. I was bullied a ton as a kid, and still have mental and physical scars from it. Being a kid of mixed race, a soft yet caring personality, and way into books and school - is pretty much the formula for “ass whoopin” on the streets of 80s and 90s South Side Chicago. But remember that story about Eric’s dad encouraging him to fight after the chain incident? This near exact experience happened to me at 9 years old. After getting bullied one too many times, and running home, my dad told me “I’m not letting you back in this house until you beat that kid’s ass”. He meant it. My dad was a blue collar man, with respect on the streets and at work. He handled his business and wasn’t afraid of anything living as far as I could tell. All my dad had to do was look at me with those bold eyes and speak in that deep base of a voice to inspire me, although unwillingly, to “become a man”. I’ll never forget crying harder than I’ve ever cried in my life, but swinging, kicking, punching, and beating the living day lights out of this kid - until the kid begged me to stop.
When it was finally over, I looked up, almost like I had woken from a dream, or was it a nightmare? I felt free. I felt pain. I felt vindicated and braver. I walked the streets of my neighborhood from that day on - no longer scared of anyone. And to some degree, became so emboldened that I looked for fights. I went from being the kid that was bullied, to the kid that loved throwing hands and chasing danger - because this was what it meant to be “a man”.
The media portrayal of black men as being physically violent and able to “fight” is not only changing lives, but costing lives.
Today - I see my young soon to be 7 year old son, who reminds me so much of myself as a child. He’s caring. He’s handsome, he’s of mixed race, he’s creative and into books. He could care less about sports, fighting, girls, any of the things that can be defined as “being a man”. I love him for it and I support him and encourage him to be “who he is”. I also see young black men being killed simply because of the thought that they may be able to harm someone else. The media portrayal of black men as being physically violent and able to “fight” is not only changing lives, but costing lives.
But there’s this voice from my past, from Eric’s life, and from Aymann’s story that prompts me to think, "what will I do when my kid gets bullied? What will I encourage him to do if he gets physically harmed because he doesn’t know how to defend himself? Am I being a good dad by not prompting him to learn fighting early - karate, boxing, martial arts, etc…? I live in a fairly safe and healthy neighborhood - does my son need the same protection skills that I did as a kid? Will learning the tools of fighting early, translate into danger for my son later?
Damn - I just don’t know, but I have a feeling that becoming a “man” in 2019 has changed and we can’t live by the same old codes. I don’t know where that careful balance lives, but I’m determined to find it. As I discover this balance, I commit to supporting the true nature of my son, living a righteous path, and behaving in a way that hopefully inspires my little guy to approach life, our relationship, and the relationships he develops with others - not in the pursuit of “manhood” but the pursuit of safety, credibility, and belief in himself. A part of manhood, but not the whole of a complicated way of becoming.
