Dog on the Boys By Andrew Broadley (he/him) | OPINION c/w sexual violence
Andrew scrutinises men’s propensity to both dismiss and encourage toxic behaviour from their male counterparts. We all know the boys. I have boys, my boys have boys, your boys have boys, even buoys have buoys #Haurakigulfsquad2021. We love our boys, yet often don’t admit it, because admitting it shows emotion, and emotions are for girls. Crying is for when the boys are not around and Mitski is playing loudly because like I said, the boys are not around so you can finally stop playing Netsky. Wubwubwub A group of boys are very rarely ever called a group of boys. We are simply ‘the boys’. We are a collective. Language has power, and in this case language is
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making one thing very clear. There is no individual in ‘the boys’, there is only ‘the boys’. No option for a stand alone boy, ‘the boys’ move together, they are one entity, and as one entity there is no room for individualism or dissonance. The idea of a group of men being close knit friends is nothing new or surprising. As human beings we long for companionship, but problems arise because this longing often means we do not like to do anything that threatens that companionship. It is what makes it so hard to tell your friends something honestly. You have spinach in your teeth
my dude but I just can’t tell you uWu. It is the reason why we let a racist joke or inappropriate comment slide, why we stupidly laugh along. We fear creating a chasm, of doing something to distance ourselves from the other members. Of being outed, a castaway with only a bloody volleyball for a friend (outdated reference?). We learn the language of the boys and we maintain that language, much like we do for all of the little groups we have in our lives. Languages that we change when needed. For our friends, our grandma, our professor, our church, or our one brown friend that yes, definitely notices you call no one else ‘bro’ except
