A Stray Child.

A Stray Child.

Since I enlisted in the Defence Forces a few months ago, I’ve been constantly and consistently been asking myself the question:

Am I now a man?

Ironic, it seems, given the title and the mission statement of this very project. But what exactly constitutes a ‘man’? I remember the night I came home to my parents after shaving my head at the salon earlier in the day. My dad looked at me, with this memorable gaze, as if he was proud of me but also expecting something from me, and said, “You finally look like a man. You should keep it this way. You’re my son.” 

His son. Who’s now a man. Whatever attempt he tried to do to validate me backfired completely. I was quietly taken aback. As if, my entire presence before conscription was completely invalid to him. My head shaven and I was suddenly one foot in on this journey to manhood that I never properly gave a fuck about.

I fought back tears in the car. All my goodbyes to friends were done digitally. I remember trying to tune out my dad while he was trying to, in good faith, give me a pep talk to try to ease my growing anxiousness. It never really went away.

I found it all a bit too peculiar to me. Because this life that I’m now living, so different from anything I've experienced before. I was so worried that I wouldn’t fit in. Because I consider myself soft. I’m soft like blue cheese. I think I'm delicious but I’m also of acquired taste. I don't consider myself readily available to the general population for all to eat. Some have to ease themselves in. We send each other artificial greetings before going at the idea for having a cup of coffee together, maybe sometime this week.

Now I have bigger shoes to fill. I think being a boy is a performance, and anyone could be a boy. And being a man is an even bigger, extravagant, performance. Something that's worth an actual applause. But I'm having trouble trying to acclimatise with the fact that I now have to perform this task, at the very least, for the next two years.

In James Baldwin’s poignant essay, he described that the notion of masculinity enforces two separate binaries: cowboys and Indians, the good guys and bad guys, punks and studs, tough guys and softies, butch and faggot. These binaries categorise humanity so rigidly, it anticlimactically denies them freedom. In NS, one’s journey of manhood is simplified: be tough, be brave, be forthcoming. Care for your men and they will care for you. I mutually don’t expect anything else either, especially from an institution. 

I never expected the system to prioritise vulnerability and emotional depth. Because those are for the softies, right?

The experience I go through, the steps I take, bears no consideration for real human experience. The more I reel in, the more I realise how stifling my life is gonna be. I have no room for growth nor maturity if I just assimilate and join the tough guys. I’m much more complex than that. But in the end, one has to make concessions. 

Stoicism in the face of death.

I’m being trained to endure and approach danger with nonchalance. I’m being trained to be unflinching and professional in the face of adversity. I know that after carrying equipment and walking/running/exercising with literal weight on my back makes my muscles sore. I remember the sensations of almost passing out after strenuous exercise. And I miss my family dearly. I’ve been subordinated to become a “protector”. I not only serve myself, I serve the people. I’ve adopted a much more masculine attitude. I witness true bravado in my seniors and peers, and I try to follow. I’ve bonded with others through hardships and shared pain. I’ve never felt the full embrace of masculinity nor femininity in my life, so this is all new.

They say the smartest option is to disregard any option passed on to you, especially when you don’t necessarily have a choice. But that is the thing: I don’t have a choice. So I walk the walk. I partake in the rituals. The people I call my brothers, they call me brother too. So for now, I surrender a portion of myself, and I’m a man.

Photography by Kay / Edit & Direction by Dane / Assist by Kash / Location NOST