My Dad is 57 and was born and bred in the Canterbury Plains. More specifically, in the middle of nowhere. He’s a freight driver and comes home dirty and tired, all to get up at the crack of dawn and do it again. Most importantly, to me, he’s a steadfast figure in my life, strong, happy, and unrelenting. This gives me no better reason than to ask him some questions about, well, blokes.
How do you define masculinity and what does it mean to you?
Masculinity is being vital, a provider, a protector. To me, it means being like my father and my grandfathers and all my uncles- strong, dependable, providing and protecting your family. Basically, it’s looking after other people; that’s what it means to me.
How have your personal experiences shaped your understanding of what it means to be a man?
My personal experience was through my father, my grandfathers, and my uncles, who were all from the generations that survived the depression and the wars. All of them, without exception, were tough, uncompromising, real down to Earth men. It shaped me to be who I am.
What does uncompromising mean?
Uncompromising means you take a stand and you don’t change. You think it’s right, you stand by it. You have some moral issues you believe in and stand by them; you don’t change them.
Do these ideas of strength and vitality hurt mental health?
Fortunately for me it hasn’t, but I have seen other men who think they have to be tough all the time and this puts them under stress. They’re probably like me… I was taught as a child to keep it to myself and fight through it.
How do you think other societal expectations and stereotypes impact men’s mental health?
The stereotype of the typical kiwi bloke: silent, outdoorsy, tough, has hurt some men if they do not feel quite that. I think nowadays men who are growing up are taught a lot better about mental health but also lack the confidence to depend on themself. This is something that’s not talked about enough.
What are some strategies or practices that you find helpful in maintaining your overall well-being as a man?
Work hard, but leave your work at work. Cultivate a happy and safe home environment. Take great joy in your family. Have a bit of quiet time and do what you want without guilt. Try have a good balance.
Who is the greatest man you know?
My mum’s father, my maternal grandfather. Mainly for sheer doggedness, hard work, and community spirit. Close second would be my Dad, he was a lot of the same and had great moral values and cared deeply for his community. He did all this while teaching me the basics.
So there’s a trend here of helping others?
Yes. They were both very involved in the local community. Helping neighbours, sports clubs, and other clubs.
What would you change about yourself?
I’d be a bit skinnier – nothing else. That’s it. I’m pretty happy with who I am.
How have you found this peace with yourself?
I’ve accepted the hand I’ve been dealt. I’ve chosen to be happy in life’s small things; it doesn’t have to be big joyous occasions all the time. I’m just thankful for my family, the roof over my head, and my job. I’ve stayed balanced and learnt to find joy in things I used to not. I think that’s a difference maker for me.
To preface this next question, for my entire life my Dad has been sober. A rarity, especially for blokes like my Dad.
Why don’t you drink anymore?
It was detrimental to my health. It was basically hurting my health, my wellbeing. I just decided, when I met your mother, that it wasn’t masculine to need this crutch anymore. I’ve been healthy and happy ever since.
What are some of the other big sacrifices you have made in life?
I took a job closer to home and a whacking big pay cut to be closer to my son. Also, Instead of being like my mates travelling the world, I stayed home for a family crisis and never regretted it. It was just how life had panned out and I found working closer to home meant I could spend more time caring for the people I love.
My Dad was raised in a generation where you were taught strength is often found in silence. This thinking is something that has affected many men today, feeling inadequate but not in the right place to share. Yet, despite this, my Dad has raised me to feel comfortable with sharing what’s on my mind. But why?
My Dad used to dance at my cricket games whenever I hit a boundary and he stops in his tracks whenever he sees a baby out in public. He spoke at his friend’s funeral and has cried in front of me openly and unashamedly. When my Dad talks about strength, it isn’t the type portrayed in our kiwi culture today, where you’re tough as nails and never talk. It’s the type where you have fortitude and courage to be who you are and what you are feeling. It’s being selfless while still unashamedly being you.
