Words That Kill

As kids, both MBH (my better half) and I experienced bullying. It is not a new phenomenon, but it is a serious problem and getting worse, particularly in Australian schools.

Back in the day, with no technology at hand, kids dealt with their issues face to face. However, they were never intimidated into playing down their abilities at school, missing class or quitting an extra-curricular activity. Nor were they pushed to harm themselves or contemplate suicide out of sheer desperation.

Nowadays, bullying has snowballed into a free-for-all with displays of violence usually associated with action movies and video games. Gay youths are a minority group particularly at risk.

A national study conducted in Australia by the La Trobe University suggests that 79 per cent of same-sex attracted students have been verbally-abused or physically-assaulted. As a result, 1 in 6 has attempted suicide at least once.

With social media being the popular battle ground, much of the taunting is virtual and out of sight. Victims are hassled through Facebook, text messages and emails. Mobile phones are used to record heinous acts of violence. No one is safe, not even within the sanctity of their own home.

Bullying is a complicated and serious problem that I believe has to be addressed on several levels. Teachers need to be trained to identify and tackle offenders. Schools need to be more inclusive of gay students. Parents need to have a more hands-on approach in their children’s upbringing.

A UK survey states that working parents spend under 20 minutes a day with their children, hardly enough time to teach their offspring values, morals, discipline, and respect towards others. Let’s face it: it isn’t in front of the telly or computer games that kids will hone their social skills.

But the situation isn’t all gloom and doom. There are schools in Australia that have specific policies on gay bullying and provide gay students with a safe environment in which to study. Gay support groups are encouraged and discrimination of any kind is dealt with swiftly.

As a community, we should be spending as much time protecting our youngest members as we are defending adult issues. After all, their causes are no less important than ours.

Ultimately, every child, gay or straight, should be able to attend school without fear.

The Yin And Yang Of Relationships

To some, finding Mr Right can be as daunting as the idea of a camping trip to Africa. The trick is to be open to new experiences and to not lose your way with unrealistic expectations.

When MBH (my better half) and I first started dating, we were drawn to each other by difference as much as commonality. Sharing a similar outlook on life helped us get past the stage of being just mates. But it’s our contrasting personalities that have kept the relationship interesting and fresh.

MBH is a great organiser. Give him a laptop and he can whip up an Excel document in a Sydney minute. I wouldn’t know a spreadsheet from a bed sheet and definitely haven’t got a head for formulas.

However, ask him to keep the house tidy and he’ll give you a blank stare. The notion of closing drawers and cupboard doors is as foreign to him as throwing away empty wrappers and taking the garbage out.

“Isn’t that what househusbands are for?” he’ll say. Some people love living dangerously.

But none of that really matters. What counts is that we fit together like an old sock in an old shoe and offset each other. He’s the quiet one. I’m the extravert. I rev him up. He calms me down. He has great taste in fashion. I’m more of a dag. You get the picture. He’s basically the yin to my yang.

Over the years, we’ve gotten used to compromise. Our needs and interests have changed as well. This includes holidaying as a couple. As a single man, I enjoyed travelling the world to remote and dangerous locations. Now that I’m with my partner, I think of adventure differently.   

When I tell MBH of how I once took a dump by moonlight in the wilds of Botswana, surrounded by hungry hyenas, with nothing but a bunch of leaves to clean myself with, he physically shudders, grateful to have missed the magical moment.

If I could repeat driving through Africa, I’d be tempted to lose the tent and adhere to my partner’s ideal of luxury travel. Throw in great food and a bottle of chilled wine and I’d be a happy man. Perhaps the mention of shopping would lure MBH into coming along. Now that’s what I call compromise.