Toxic Masculinity and Martial Arts: What Does It Mean to be a Real Man?

"Hey Four Eyes!"

I didn't even have to turn around to know a bully was targeting me.

I turned.

He was obviously older, taller and heavier. Two smaller young tough guys were behind him.

"Yeah, you, pussy."

His two toadies glared at me with looks that said, "You're about to get your butt kicked."

My two younger and smaller cousins, Bobby and Mike (ages 11 and 10) were with me in front of the drugstore in downtown Wilmore, Kentucky. We had just enjoyed a vanilla Coke at the drugstore's fountain and looked at some of the comic books on the spinning wire racks.

The bully saw us when we walked out onto the sidewalk that ran up Main Street. Now he was taunting and following a little too close. "I'm gonna kick your ass."

We walked behind the drugstore and the bully and his buddies followed, his insults growing louder. We found ourselves on a gravel parking lot behind the building.

"Kenny, that's the sheriff's son," my cousin Mike whispered. "He's the town bully. He's 17 YEARS OLD!"

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