The topic of dealing with violent men in our society is and will always be a challenge for all of us. It may sound ironic, perhaps triggering to state the root of their behaviours also comes from a place of feeling unsafe. It goes without saying that safety for the victims must be upheld immediately. Certain actions or legal measures need to be top priority to protect those entwined in these scenarios. So while those slow cogs begin to turn, I’d like to get closer to the heart of the problem.
I’ve personally been on both sides. I’ve had anger projected upon me from aggressive men and I too have been the projectionist. Neither position feels great or safe. It’s these experiences which drive me to dig deep to figure out how we can address the issue that goes further than simply tightening laws and increasing punishments.
So I ask everyone to take a moment to consider the damaged boy inside the angry man.
A deep down, buried pain that for years has been cleverly protected by a layer of hot lava, crusted over the top of an active volcano. This boy, once was full of hope, wonder, and boisterous energy to explore the world, may be the same boy who lacked the receipt of affection, praise, support, love, understanding, and guidance. Not so much from the women in his life, but from healthy male role models around him. In the blink of an eye, he grows up with beliefs the outer world is cruel and that he must use aggression to ensure his own safety and survival – regardless of the consequences and collateral damage he causes.
It’s my belief that counteracting this multi-generational toxicity begins with those who are willing to step up. To create a future where our men don’t feel this primal need to dominate those around them, must start with the healthy, willing men of today. Our dedication to provide healthy guidance of the boys, the young men around us is the way we can stop this abusive cycle that carries from one wounded man to another.
I’m no poet by any means, but it’s how I found myself summarising this difficult landscape and how I see we can find that starting point to carving a path towards greener pastures. I hope this piece of prose below finds meaning for my fellow men. My aim is to encourage those who might be wondering how they can make a difference, to believe how every small positive action can have life altering impact on the emerging young men around them.
It will take time. Generations even. But it must be at the forefront of our daily living if we want to see real change.
THE UMBRELLA MEN
He stands at the edge, a chasm so vast. The world that was, a shadowy past.
A modern man whose fear grips strong. Scared to step a single foot wrong.
He shrinks with expectations high. The ways he learned no longer apply.
The old beliefs have come to an end. Afraid to speak, to ever offend.
His role as father, lover, and king has morphed into a different thing.
His forefathers had one way to live. They shrug in response, now nothing to give.
He deeply wants to do what’s right. But no-ones there to hold him tight.
And blame will only leave him starved, so now a new path must be carved.
This fragile man, facing elements harsh, takes a glance at the desert so sparse.
He spots another, and then fifty more, whose heavy hearts bleed so raw.
He feels for his kin, that glaze in their eye. The echo of a soul so dry.
A stagnate shell that barely stands. Whose feet are bogged within the sand.
And then a familiar feel arrives. A tug from below, those hopeful eyes
The little boy looks up to the man. Somewhat confused, unsure where to stand.
The man now sees a choice to make. Sure, he could hide and never awake.
He could leave that boy alone. Abandon him to fend on his own.
But something pulls him deep within. The storm clouds slowly rolling in.
He digs into the gritty dirt. The sight of something just unearthed.
He tugs it hard; it then comes free. A handle, curved, for all to see.
A fabric soft but sturdy, strong. He lifts it high, yes this belongs.
The storm arrives and pelts with rain. He knows this storm. It’s come again.
Relentless with rage, no mercy in sight, his canopy opens, ready to fight.
The boy huddles close, the storm he can see. But feeling the safety the man can be.
He senses the thrill of fear up ahead but knows the man will shelter this dread.
The man looks down, his smile awakes. His purpose fulfilled, his spirit now quakes.
To see that spark in the little boy’s eye. To share the wonder, adventure so nigh.
A strength that holds through raging wind. Repelling the rain that slithers in.
A bond emerged from swirling dust. No words to utter, this newfound trust.
Then something nearby awakens from sleep. Another man sees this love so deep.
He too then digs, achieves his find. A sturdy umbrella of his own kind.
And then it spreads among the rest. The flurry of digging, the ultimate quest.
The thrill of the hunt, a treasure so rich. The boys beside them, excited they twitch.
The chasm that once was darkened night, now covered with shelters all buzzing alight.
The first man and boy that gave the gift, know it’s all part of the bigger shift.
The boy bravely looks into his hand. The hand of a youthful growing man.
As he unfurls a gem unspoiled. His own umbrella so neatly coiled.
He steps towards that raging storm. His feet are strong, his courage re-born.
He knows the man has shown the way. The choice to act or shy away.
He ventures out, his path so clear. He forges forth. A new frontier.
And never will he feel alone, as he in turn can shelter his own.