Whenever James overheard his parents talking he was always left confused. Although they talked about same issues their opinions were always contradictory. In sport, for example, his dad considered that playing was pointless unless you were playing to win. Winning meant everything to him. He would sledge people relentlessly, or do almost anything to establish a competitive advantage. His mum, on the other hand, would get cross if James spoke a bad word to anyone. She had told him many times about the importance of fair play. Their views on politeness diverged greatly although they’d never admit it.
‘Don’t interrupt James; it’s rude to talk over people,’ his mother had chastised him many times. So often, in fact, that James had given up trying to join in conversations at all in her presence. His dad, on the other hand, would get pissed with him for being quiet, ‘Speak up boy and stop sulking over there. We’ve brought you up better than to act like a wet mop. You’re spoiling the day for everyone.’
James also hated giving them his school reports. Their reactions were totally predicable.
‘James, you’re not trying hard enough, you need to apply yourself,’ his mum would say. He once heard her tell another mother that he lacked concentration, ‘just like his grandpa, a dreamer’. However, his father thought that the one thing he was great at, painting, was frivolous and pointless. ‘Stop wasting your time with that arty rubbish. Do something useful with your time,’ he’d say.
No one else in James’ family painted - or danced, or sang. But James could concentrate when he painted. He applied himself at art and loved to escape into his creations, regardless of whether his parents valued his artistic flair or not.
The people and situations in James’ life often seemed to conspire to block him, to lock him in a double bind as he called it; he became trapped between opposing values that left him feeling frustrated and unable to move. He felt damned one way or the other. He was told, for example, not to fight, but also to stand up for himself; to eat everything on his plate, but not to make a pig of himself. But for James the hardest bind of all was: ‘James, please try and fit in with the others.’ He’d often been told: ‘You need to be a little flexible, try to accommodate them.’ But at other times his parents might say: ‘Don’t be afraid to be who you are. Be yourself and they will like you.’ What a load of crap - be me and fit in, how the fuck does that work?