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Poetry Friday: Roots Of Masculinity

Austin Davis

The term “toxic masculinity” has been around for years, but it's gained a lot traction recently with the #MeToo movement and the evolution of gender identities. It’s used to describe traditional male gender roles that restrict emotional expression and behaviors, with the expectation that boys and men should be dominant. Austin Davis, an activist and burgeoning young poet at Arizona State University, explores this concept in his poem Blowing on my Nails. In this week’s Poetry Friday, Austin reflects on the formative experiences of  "toxic masculinity" and how they can affect mental health.

AD: Like a lot of boys, I think I was exposed to a certain amount of toxic masculinity in school and in the wider world. As I’ve lived longer and longer, I’ve begun to become more and more interested in masculinity and its relationship with mental health and how we can cultivate a culture of positive masculinity.

I’ve dealt with OCD and anxiety for a good majority of my life. It hasn’t always been easy, but being creative has really helped me the most during the most challenging times in my life. Writing has really helped me process my anxiety and work through pain and grow from the hard parts of life, really.

For me at least, sometimes it can be really hard to get out of my head, and expressing myself really pulls me out of that spiral and points me upwards into a place of positivity and a place of growth, I think. And poetry especially has really helped me understand more and more what kind of man I want to be and how I want to change the world with my passion. And for that, I feel really grateful.

This poem I’m going to read today is called Blowing On My Nails. It deals with my experiences navigating masculinity and mental health during adolescence.

Blowing on my Nails

Somewhere in my stomach

there’s a basement

of old men attending

their 50-year junior high

reunion dance,

arguing with each other

about whether the squirrels

in the walls are having sex

or plotting their revenge.

All the uncles who used to call me

a cupcake for not wanting to hunt

when I was a kid

are slow dancing with their dead deer,

pouring them a drink,

dabbing at their deer’s

wine stained fur

with their ties as the last song ends.

My gym coach from seventh grade

who taught sex ed

is sweeping up the bullet shells

scattered around the dance floor.

On the day before summer break,
Mr. Manekee sat on the pointy end

of his football and told my class

that if we do it right,

love will feel like catching an interception

and running in a touchdown

as hard and fast as we can.

I had never felt the warmth of another’s skin

Mixing their freckles with mine,

but I still felt like stabbing

both of my ears

with sharpened pencils

until chunks of brain

came out on my tongue

after all 23 of the future men

sitting around me

began to roar with laughter,

whistle and cheer for more.

In my chest there is a little boy

blowing on his nails,

waiting for the pink to dry,

about to bust a vein

and lather himself in blood

so that his friends won’t find out

how pretty he feels.

Poetry Friday is produced by KNAU's Gillian Ferris. If you have an idea for a segment, drop her an email at Gillian.Ferris@nau.edu. 

Gillian Ferris was the News Director and Managing Editor for KNAU.