After Adolescence, Stephen Graham has a message for his own son

Following his acclaimed television series Adolescence, actor Stephen Graham helped launch a vital conversation about modern masculinity, mental health and the digital pressures facing younger generations. Hoping to further the discussions the show had started, Graham teamed up with psychology lecturer Orly Klein on a book project, encouraging fathers to write honest letters to their sons full of advice, vulnerability, encouragement and wisdom. The public response was immediate. Fathers from all walks of life contributed more than 1600 submissions, some of which were collected in the final book. Below is Stephen Graham’s own letter to his son.

’ello champ,

What can I say? From the moment you and your sister were born, my heart has been full of a love I never thought was humanly possible. As a baby, you were filled with wonder and so much energy. You had a beautiful, mischievous and inquisitive nature which has always made me smile. You were climbing, running and jumping everywhere. You’d walk into a room wearing shoes which were four times, five times, ten times too big for you... sometimes they were ye mother’s.

The sound of your laughter is one of the most beautiful compositions made by nature. I am so blessed to be a part of your life, and our friendship is something I hold dear to my heart. That beautiful bouncing boy has grown into a man who brightens up a room whenever he walks into it.

I have had the pleasure of watching you grow, of watching you learn the lessons of life, like how you conducted yourself when your heart was broken for the first time. To watch you navigate that pain with compassion and come out the other side appreciating your worth without holding on to any resentments, showing your vulnerability to me and your mother and allowing us to guide you through, that was truly admirable.

You’re the glue that holds friendships together, you give 110 per cent to all of your relationships. You are a fantastic listener, never judgemental, you have the humility to sit with a prince or a pauper and treat them both equally with dignity and respect. I think one thing I’ve passed on to you is the quality of a prrroper hug, and anyone who knows you would completely agree.

You’ve got funny bones. The little voices you do, your silly impressions, and I love watching the double act you and your mum have created, especially when yous take the piss out of me (I am five foot six). One of my fondest memories is when you and me went out to play football.

We climbed over the school gate, wheeled out the goals and had the best game of shootie the world has ever seen (I think I won 10–9). When we got home and knocked on the front door we were covered from head to toe in mud. I’ll never forget your mum’s reaction, ‘What the hell have you two been up to?!’ You and me looked at each other and burst out laughing.

My hopes, dreams and aspirations for you are already being fulfilled. Keep being you because you are brilliant. You constantly embody what your nana used to say: No one is ever above you and no one is ever beneath you. Always be true to yourself and to who you are. The only advice I could ever give you is to keep doing what you’re doing, always be willing to learn, always be open-minded and always be honest.

I love you so much, you’re one of my best mates. I love you to the moon and back forever.

All my love,
Dad

This is an extract from Letters To Our Sons by Stephen Graham with Orly Klein (Bloomsbury, $35).