A Meditation on Personal Violence

College football fans know that the nationally ranked Oklahoma Sooners dismissed one of their best players last week. He was, by all accounts, a great football player and a good student. But last week, he (and details are still pending or unclear) put a friend of his in the hospital. This event brought to light other similar events and revealed not a good kid who lost control, but one who has a history of off-field violence.

One of my good friends noted that he heard football fans discussing this case--but all from the perspective of the football player. The injured kid was ignored. I did some of that myself. But other events in my life (no details yet, at least right now) make me far more sensitive to the issue of personal violence. This event now seems far more troublesome from a societal perspective. It isn't just our President who jokes about violence. It is our entire culture.

Personal violence is a very powerful idea in American culture. I teach a course on Western Film and spend a lot of time talking about masculinity and violence. John Wayne's character in Stagecoach saves three bullets for his battle with the evil Plumber gang (they killed his pa). In My Darling Clementine Wyatt Earp faces down the evil Clanton's in a showdown--a test of personal masculine virtue. This theme is ubiquitous in Western film. To truly be a man, you must prove yourself in some kind of physical contest. Violence, and the ability to handle violence, is a good thing. When Jimmy Stewart's character in The Man who Shot Liberty Valance finally tires of John Wayne's bullying, he punches the Duke in the mouth--knocking him down. Wayne shakes his head and grins--later telling Stewart that he had thrown a good punch.

Yet in the real world, these things have real consequences. My brother once (many years ago) got into a fight with a man at a movie theater. My brother was not much of a fighter, and this was over the stupidest of things, but he pushed a little, and this person he didn't know hit him, and my bro spent the next few months eating through a straw. Over what? Nothing of significance, I can tell you. I relate that story in my class when we watch Hud. The film includes a great scene where Hud's (Paul Newman) nephew (Brandon Dewilde) looks at a cute girl in a bar. The girl's companion takes offense, and the bar fight breaks out. In the film it is all good fun. In real life, people actually die in these stupid fights. I ask the class about that scene and mostly get thoughtful responses. Young women usually find the boyfriend's behavior boorish and reflecting insecurity. Young men often are surprised, because they think they are expected to act that way--that women want to be rescued. One student told me that I was completely wrong and that he knew for a fact what women wanted, and his girlfriend would expect him to fight. Sigh.

I remember during my childhood my father telling me that he would never punish me for fighting unless I started the fight or ran from one. I don't actually think he believed that, but it was part of his culture and he thought he had to make me a man. In little league, I had a run-in with some twin boys on my team. Their dad was my coach (and actually a nice guy) but they were the meanest little kids I remember, and for some reason during practice they told me I would get a beating after practice ended. I got out of it by asking their dad for a ride home. I remember sitting in that car with those two kids glaring at me as their dad took me to my home outside town. My wife always compliments me on getting out of a sticky situation (and I agree) but at the time I felt great shame for not fighting. What stupidity.

How does all this relate to a football star's woes? It makes me think how much we absolve violence and laugh it off. It makes me realize that there are many angry, angry people who feel a great entitlement to their anger. When you cross them (drinking or not) they feel the right to hurt you. And we often just sidle. We talk about the drinking, or perhaps that the other guy caused it, or whatever. But most of us don't work that way. We don't hit those who anger us, even if we briefly consider it. We don't feel that right. We get angry, but we don't hurt others.

This violence issue goes well beyond bar fights. That might be for another post.