“Murderball” was the most obvious example of our culture’s obsession with masculinity. Following two paraplegic rugby teams, the movie strove to bring us to realize what it means to be physically disabled, trying to survive in our society. What the movie did for me was more than just show how grateful I should be to have a full, working body, or how paralegals try to do normal activities--it really put a mirror in front of my face and made me look at myself and how I fit into society. Each murderball player had distinct personalities and pervading feelings but what I noticed in each man was, despite their ruthlessness on the court, they had each learned a lesson in life, whether it was related to their accident or not. All of them had kindness in common and I admire their ability to go out of their door each day and face the world with a brave face. We are prejudiced against people who are different from us, and most of us see disabilities with a, “Sucks to be you,” attitude. What we don’t realize is that these people are just as, or, stronger mentally because they’ve had to fight both the public’s eye and their own depression. The men of the movie, Murderball, were undoubtedly athletically superior--I’m not even sure how many “normal” people would be willing to play that kind of game. One point that the movie effectively conveyed is the reaction of others to a person who is in a wheelchair. They automatically assume that the disabled person cannot do things for themselves and immediately offer help. For grown men who had always relied on themselves, this kind of treatment is degrading and can make one feel as though they have been robbed of their masculinity. As we watched the movie I thought to myself, “Do they play murderball because they feel empowered, as if they earned their masculinity back?” It is easy to see why we would equate athletic superiority with manliness. The media does nothing but praise the next up-and-coming Carmelo Anthony or LeBron James, showering them with attention, glorifying their every move. Part of the motivation of playing sports for many young people is because they want to be like the idols they see on T.V., in the newspaper, or on the radio. Money is equated with athletic superiority and who wouldn’t want more of that?! Here is my dorky equation for how our culture fits sports with masculinity:
Athletic superiority => fame/money/sturdiness/machoness/”balls” => manliness
The biggest question is whether or not living by the expectations of others is a healthy outlook on life. Should we live purely on what others define as “right” for our gender? Why can’t there be other ways of expressing manliness besides sports, bench pressing, or violence? Guys who are superior in poetry, for example, will never be considered “sexy” because what they don’t fit into our schemas of toughness or stalwart resilience. Although tennis players are some of the highest paid athletes in the world, they don’t receive nearly the same attention that baseball players do. Baseball is a lot slower, yet it survives as the “American Sport” and is a more notable example of masculinity. Somewhere in between tennis and football there is a line at which we separate the sports we see as masculine and those we do not. When you think about it, sports contain all the elements of “manliness” that our culture so embraces. Football is a popular sport because it requires inner desire and a fanatical lust for competition. For some reason we like to see super buff guys go at each other, disregarding entirely the imminent injuries and ailments that they will suffer from when they reach 40 years old. So is the American dream to play professionally, earn millions of dollars, fame, recognition, notoriety, and then wind up stuck in a bed or in a third triple bypass by the time you’re fifty? Obviously. There seems to be no set limit to the price we are willing to pay to prove that we are manly. The patterns seen in young boys indicate that there is a great peer influence that causes us to give in to dares, or act out of ourselves. You don’t have to be engorged by the spotlight to feel the pressure, either. Guys are just expected to act a certain way, regardless of where they come from or how they truly want to act. I have no idea where it happened but, somewhere in history, we became creatures of expectations and inflexible viewpoints.
Haha this is totally irrelevant but whenever I hear Justin Timberlake say hes “bringing sexy back,” and then I think about what our culture defines as “sexy”, I can’t help but wonder what it is hes bringing back. Is he making poetry writing the new sexy occupation? Is he eliminating the excessive use of bling? Is he bringing styles of the 50’s back? I doubt all of the above…what I think he means is that he is “redefining sexy”! Yeah, totally random.
Back to the post. “Never Let Me Go” was a fun book and, just like “Perks”, it featured a very excitable little boy who was shunned by his peers because he threw tantrums and cried. Why is crying a sign of weakness? Showing emotions are what make us human beings, so since when is it okay to suppress our natural tendencies? Another interesting quote that I heard came from the movie “Something/Raising-Caleb” (I forget the title) right after the high school football team lost its final game of the season. The guys were crying and hugging each other—being all-out “wimps”, as our culture might say. The narrator questioned our acceptance of displays of affection: “Why is it that our culture makes it alright for only the toughest of guys to show emotion”--or something to that extent. That is, essentially, the message that we get as young kids—that we are not allowed to cry or make a fuss of anything unless we have already secured our claim to manliness. Tommy (from NLMG) was a very sensitive character who lived life, in essence, looking at things through different lenses than anybody else. He questioned norms, spoke up for what he believed in, and never stopped being himself. Why can’t we all be like Tommy nowadays? First of all, the kinds of people most supported by our culture are those who are tough, humorous, and never cry. We base ourselves off of what we see—boys like Tommy never make front page, or even the newspaper for that matter.
“Perks of Being A Wallflower” is an awesome book! Charlie is definitely an unconventional sort of guy. Because he is only a freshman in high school he seems to be in the middle of knowing and not knowing. As a junior schooler, you are oblivious to high school life, while as a senior, you own the campus and know everything. The point at which we come into Charlie’s life is during a period of revelation for him—he begins to learn about girls, guys, sex, drugs, and, most importantly, the social scene in high school. Charlie is unpopular and the sensitive type of kid mentioned earlier in this post. At first glance, one has to wonder how he has survived so long. His love of literature, penchant for writing, naivety, and his choice of friends befuddle even the most knowing social psychologists. Who is this kid? At first, I thought Charlie was a little girl with a boys name—how could anyone be so oblivious to the “way things work”? After awhile, though, I began to see Charlie as a character worth admiring. He is so honest with himself and with the readers that I couldn’t help wishing I was as carefree.
I know exactly what Charlie feels like because I was once a new student and it took me forever to understand what it meant to be a boy/young man at our school. When I first came to Punahou School in 1996, I was definitely “behind” in the fads and overall social scene. Having come from a small private school with one first grade class, Punahou’s 8-class second grade was huge to me. I used to wear Gap collared shirts, or my favorite red Pokemon shirt to school, never thinking about what other kids thought. However, as time went on, it seemed inevitable that I would have to confront the stares and whispering sooner or later. I ditched the prep style/cartoon style and went all out with Quiksilver—there was a time when I refused to buy any brand but Quiksilver! Kids at school would have Gyro rings or Gameboys, chat about the latest PG-13 movies, and show off their glowing collections of Pogs then Pokemon cards then Yu Gi Oh cards. I was a complete dork through all of this. I would try and start a collection of cards then lose interest. I would beg my parents to buy me the latest technology, or take me to see “Scary Movie” to no avail. I blamed them for keeping me in the dark about the wonders of fads but I realize now that it was for my own good. Being trendy isn’t always the best way to go and I struggled with this realization for a looooong time. There is also no denying it--schools definitely are the breeding ground for our social roles and peer pressure. Of course I felt/feel the pressure to be rough and tough but I realized that people can see right through you so it is useless to pretend. Of course you have to wonder whether or not the teasing is worth staying true to yourself. Perhaps it is better to act than to not make any attempt at all. Embracing who you are is what will make you the most happy in the long run and the feeling of self-actualization that you get when you are free from peer pressure is indescribable. Getting to high school and discovering that drugs actually happen at Punahou was so traumatic for me. I always assumed that, because we receive so much warning and information on what drugs/alcohol can do to you that no one would do it. As a freshman I was still trying (and failing) to be trendy. One of my shortcomings was my naivety. Just like Charlie (!), I was out of it and did not have experience in understanding lingo or suggestive talk. If there were parties in freshman year I never heard about them, if someone was flirting with me (highly doubt) then I probably turned them off, if there was any kind of rebellious group I did not recognize it. As high school progressed, I learned more and more and became less and less of a “virgin” to information. I was always so conservative—and still am—so it is/was hard for me to blend in. If society is always going to demand that I bend my values and compromise my character then I hardly think it is worth the trouble. The same goes for masculinity. Why do we show preference for one kind of man? If people’s outward portrayals replaced genes in indicating who would survive (i.e. Natural Selection), and a plague wiping all of our “manly-men” out came along, then who would be left? When we strive to transform our entire man population to copycats of the brusque, brawny “ideal” that we emphasize so strongly, we cannot expect much in the area of choice. Manly men may be on the market now but, if times change, it will be interesting to see who assumes the throne.
