Definition of a Fighter

Fighter noun

fight·ter

1: one that fights: such as

  (1) : Warrior, Soldier

    (2) : a pugnacious or game individual

(3) : Boxer

I pulled that definition from Merriam Webster. There’s another definition about airplanes but let’s focus on the first version of the definition. Further delving reveals the following.

Soldier noun

sol·dier

1 a : one engaged in military service and especially in the army

   b : an enlisted man or woman

   c : a skilled warrior

2 : a militant leader, follower, or worker

Warrior noun

war·rior

: a person engaged or experienced in warfare

broadly : a person engaged in some struggle or conflict

Pugnacious adjective

pug·na·cious

: having a quarrelsome or combative nature: Truculent

Boxer noun

box·er

1 : a person who engages in the sport of boxing

I’ve left out the unnecessary definitions of Soldier and Boxer. Ants and dog breeds and packing boxes are unneeded.

Those are, more or less, the official definitions of what a fighter is. But that’s not what a fighter means. With the risk of sounding a little soap-boxy, it is rather clear that words have a power unto themselves with their own connotations and connections. These spider-webbing bridges, both logical and emotional, do merit validity as the colloquial everyday use of the words grows and evolves past what the traditional, official, definitions foundationed.

Words evolve and grow, and the personal relationship between myself and words also evolves and grows. It’s via our understanding and usage that we can move from something that is simply an unused, special word to something that is common and mundane. And to understand what a Fighter means to me in the present, we are going to have to delve into my past and what a Fighter meant to me as a child.

And, if you know who I am as a person, a Fighter was something, well, wrong. As a little little child, I remember hearing that word and the subsequent definition and having it relate to my childish bickerings with my brother or with friends. It was something that was frowned upon. And yet it was also glorified. In every tabletop game I had played, in every story in whichever media I had consumed, a Fighter was someone who was hailed as a hero and as a villain. He was the person who fought the bad guys and saved the day. He was someone who was the peak of masculinity, with rolling muscles and sweat and swords seven feet long or guns the size of pickup trucks. It became an idolized version of what a man should be. And I, of course, in my infinite childhood reasonings and logic, played make-believe outside with sticks and rocks and ran around with whatever toy I could fashion as my weapon. I was a Fighter. I was a hero. I could save the day. I was the MAN.

And when childhood fantasies faded away, so did my understanding of what it meant to be a Fighter. Reality set in. The real world isn’t like the fantasy stories I loved to read the movies I watched or the games I played. The real world was grounded in laws and customs and, well, science. You may be able to pick up the seven-foot sword, but the reality is that you can’t realistically swing it to any effect you so desire. You may wish to be the hulking muscleman you see on screen, but the reality is that those actors are literally starving themselves just to look like some Adonis. Written and drawn portrayals can be as unrealistic as possible, and any physical creation of those things is hard to replicate. Armor? Expensive. Guns? Terrifying. Martial Weapons? Good luck walking down Main Street with that.

The crux of the matter is that unless I was willing to become a literal soldier, or get into acting and playing pretend (but for adults and thus make adult money), or get into the ring I wouldn’t be a Fighter. And I learned to let that go. Let go of those childhood fantasies and those things in which you can only achieve as a child. Be an adult. Be satisfied with what the world has given you, and to be complacent.

Let’s be completely honest. I am a very stubborn individual. That’s been true for as long as I can remember. And it works both ways, both good and bad. I’m stubborn and will see what I’ve said I will do till the end. I’ve also kept my word in detriment to my own health and goodwill. I would like to think that I’m a good person to have on the team because of how stubborn I am towards achieving whichever goal we set out for. I could also just be tooting my own horn on that one, but I’m learning that having a little self-confidence and a little pride isn’t a bad thing.

Stubborn and pugnacious almost go hand in hand, like peanut butter and chocolate. Not that I would personally know that combo but I do know once it’s time to go I’ll stick it out to the bitter end. And, this is where my relationship with the word Fighter changed as an adult.

I’m removed from my heritage. Not by choice, it’s how the cards were laid out to me. And whether or not I like it, America sees me as Asian. And so I’ve embraced it because otherwise I would drown under it. And that’s been a struggle I’ve had for many years now. And I know I have it good in comparison to my fellow Asian brothers and sisters and everyone in between. I’m half and half, my last name is Dutch, and I’ve been far removed from the rest of the Asian American experience. And I’ve been fighting to be a part of that every day. And I wish that was an exaggeration, but it really isn’t.

And Covid was a thing. And that changed how I few things. The Asian American news sources I followed showed me how much hate and fear was out there, festering like some untreatable disease just under the surface. And the small sparking interest I had in who I am and what I am became a flame that I could either die to or tame. You can’t possibly hope to win a fight like that without first understanding. “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.” (Sun Tzu) I could only fight the lack of knowledge I had about who I am by first understanding how I got there and why the world is the way it is. 

And I’m still trying to tame that flame. It’s not the easiest thing. And I’m separated by so so much. But I’m pugnacious. And so I fight on.

As a child, I was more or less blind and deaf to the world’s problems. The stories in history textbooks were of a time gone by. There was nothing happening in the here and now. A cynical man would say that’s how the world wants you to believe, for it’s far easier to control a population that thinks that the world is all hunky-dory. I may be a realist borderline pessimist, but I hope I’m not that cynical. I am grateful for the time I had as a child to be a child, even when that time had been cut short by necessity. And I am also grateful for the onslaught of social media. As horrible as it is for everyone’s mental health, it keeps me informed of what’s actually happening out in the world. It’s given everyone a soap box, for better or for worse.

I was raised to be a good little boy, that fighting is bad, that listening to your elders is good, and that it is best to be kind and loving to everyone. And I still believe that, mostly. Sometimes fighting is necessary. Sometimes your elders are wrong. And it is best to be kind and loving to everyone, which includes giving the people who deserve a right kick in the ass a right kick in the ass. There’s a connection from Fighter to Warrior to a person who is engaged in struggle or conflict. There’s a connection between the conflict of self and the conflict of society. There’s a connection between being separated within identities, and how that separation of identity is an evolving personal relationship. And there’s a connection between being complacent and doing the right thing.

And somewhere in all of that is my current definition of Fighter. It’s not too glamorous, and it’s not going to be a fantastical story of swords and magic and manliness outfitted to the nth degree. But it’s mine, and it’s close to home, and that’s enough.