The Paul Fleming story: Through ADHD and illiteracy, an Indigenous leader and viral sensation triumphs

Sweat pours down his face and when starts to speak, he adds another memorable moment to his steadily growing collection of viral hits.

“I’m gonna spend all my purse at the Easter Show on the family!” Fleming shouts. “And if any of yas are at the Easter Show and want a feed, come see me, I’ll shout ya!”

The raw, unscripted moment on the undercard of a Tim Tszyu pay-per-view blockbuster struck a chord.

Within hours, the clip had been viewed tens of thousands of times and was eventually immortalised – as is the way of these times – as a social media meme.

But there’s a lot more to his story than a 15-second sound bite.

A “Murri from Tully” in Far North Queensland, Fleming boxed his way out of a bleak childhood and eventually represented Australia at the Beijing Olympics.

He taught himself to read by using the predictive text feature on his phone after battling ADHD for years.

Now, at 34, the Penrith-based Fleming is a dad, undefeated professional boxer, respected artist and an Indigenous leader. His culturally-inspired ring walkouts get more online views than many fights, and his post-match interviews go viral.

Just as important, despite his hyperactive brain – or maybe because of it – he’s happy. That hasn’t always been the case.

*****

Fleming is a modern man representing the best and worst elements of Australia’s history.

He has overcome many of the institutional barriers and lingering aftereffects of the policies of this country’s past, never turning his back on where he came from or who he is.

“My mum was 11 before she was considered a citizen when they passed the referendum,” Fleming says.

“The segregation, stolen wages, deaths in custody, suicide rates, alcoholism. Horrible things that have happened and are still happening.

“But there’s an opposite side. Overcoming illiteracy. I was illiterate until I was 25.

“Overcoming ADHD. Domestic violence. Stuff that’s out of my control.

“I’ve overcome it, and to be considered a leader and someone to look up to for Indigenous communities, it’s hard to put into words.”

It’s not something Fleming takes lightly either, despite his laidback demeanour.

“It feels like every step you take, you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders,” he says.

“I’ve felt that ‘too black to be white, too white to be black’ thing as well. When you’re being proud, it’s like, ‘What per cent are you? He’s not a full black fella. He’s a city black fella. He’s not a real black fella, not a country black fella.’

“But if I was doing something wrong, or criminal, it’s ‘typical black fella…’

“But I feel like if there’s anyone who’s been put on this earth to bear it, it’s me.

“If anyone can deal with this shit it’s me. If anyone can be themselves and be accepted by all – Indigenous, non-Indigenous, Islander, rich, poor, surfie, whoever – it’s me.

“If anyone can do their thing and be accepted by everyone for being themselves, it’s me.”

Fleming’s pride and authenticity is never more evident than during his entrances, when he walks to the ring accompanied by Indigenous dancers and music.

What started as a surprise on the undercard to a December 2020 fight headlined by Tim Tszyu and featuring Paul Gallen and Mark Hunt, has turned into must-see TV.

He repeated it in Newcastle last year, and again in March on the undercard to Sonny Bill Williams vs Barry Hall. Each walkout has gone viral, attracting tens of thousands of views within hours.

His post-fight speeches are gaining the same kind of “can’t miss it” energy.

“My wife Bianca, my kids, I love you – all this is for you,” he said after beating Jackson England in a fight of the year contender on the SBW-Hall undercard.

“Guess what date it is? It’s the Easter Show, baby. It’s my shout!”

It’s his second Easter Show shout out and he now has plans on collaborating with organisers at this year’s event. He’s also releasing a line of ‘It’s My Shout’ Easter Show-themed merchandise.

*****

Five days after his win over England on the SBW undercard, Fleming is sitting in the late autumn sunshine in Penrith. Somewhere over his left shoulder, there’s a car idling on the side of the road. Engine running, but not going anywhere.

Fleming is talking in his energetic patter about everything from the history of race relations in Australia to his bout with England.

But that car is still idling somewhere behind him.

“Wait, is it a car?” he wonders silently. “Maybe a truck. Could be a freezer. Would be a pretty loud freezer. Might be the Burger Heads truck. Must be a car. It’s leaving now. Lots of birds out today…”

The inside of Fleming’s head is an incredibly busy place.

“My head is like a twister of information with everything flying around,” he says. “You know those money machines, where the cash is flying around and you’ve gotta try and grab the money? With ADHD, your ideas are flying around like that, and so you’ve gotta grab them.

“But then you lose it. Sometimes you lose it forever, sometimes you get it back, but it’s hard.

“I’m trying to focus on you, but there’s everything going on around us, like the car idling in the background, the birds, I’m looking in the window there, looking at the cars, I’m doing all these multiple things at once.

“My brain’s going a million miles an hour, all the time. That’s my life.”

There are two occasions when the slick southpaw’s brain quietens down: when he sleeps, and when he boxes.

As soon as the bell rings, the wind machine blowing a thousand different thoughts around his head is finally switched off.

“It does nothing. It’s gone. It’s quiet,” he says. “It’s the weirdest thing. I never remember any of my fights. None of them. I literally have no memory of my Olympics fight. I can’t remember my fight from last week.

“It’s like a dream. You know when you can see things, but you can’t really make out what they are? Everything is peripheral.

“And when I sleep, I hardly ever dream.”

Fleming says he was illiterate until his 20s, so when he travelled the world boxing for Australia, he had to ask for help filling out travel and fight documents.

“My ADHD is so bad that I couldn’t pass a single grade at school. I couldn’t read,” he says. “I didn’t get my learners until I was 24 because I couldn’t read.

“There were years that went past that I did not read a word.

“I ended up teaching myself how to read through the spell predictor on smart phones.

“If you don’t spell it close enough to the word, it doesn’t work. So if I got it wrong, I’d delete the letters, restructure it and start again.

“D-E-F-E-R-E-N-T. Oh it’s I, not E. Ah, double F.

“D-I-F-F-E-R-E-N-T.

“I knew if I didn’t get it close enough first time, I’d have to start again.”

*****

Over the past three years, inspired to connect to his culture on another level, and spurred into action during Sydney’s long Covid lockdowns, Fleming turned his hand to art.

In 2020, alongside fellow boxer Brad Hore, he designed a piece of artwork that was used on the uniforms of Australia’s Tokyo Olympians.

One of his proudest moments was witnessing skateboarder Keegan Palmer winning a gold medal while wearing the t-shirt Fleming had designed. Another was seeing Patty Mills donning his art.

Fleming’s work is now highly sought-after. In a similar vein to his walkouts and his post-fight speeches, it’s his unapologetic, unwavering authenticity that people relate to.

He can’t pinpoint where that came from, he’s always just had it.

“I’m blessed to fully believe in myself, and be myself,” he says. “If someone doesn’t like it, tough. I can’t help how I am.

“I’m comfortable with my faults, my mistakes, sins and accomplishments.

“I’m just at a place of contentment. Not content in achievements and what I want to do, but content in where I sit within myself.

“When I ask myself those deep dark questions and personal things, I’m happy with my replies and where I sit.”

Ironically, his steadfast authenticity attracts more fans and interest than many image-massaged fighters and sportspeople around the country.

And, like most things he does, he does it all himself.

“I do this from my garage, just reaching out to artists and creating things that I like,” he says.

“I put out better merch than guys who have full teams behind them, and I think people are starting to appreciate that.

“Like, my last fight trunks. I had two kangaroos, and that’s me and my wife. The six circles are my kids and the trunks were pink because my sixth baby, coming in June, is a girl.

“This ain’t from a media team. It’s just Flemo and this little thing that I’ve got going on. And if people see my achievements and get inspired – especially – Indigenous people, that’s awesome.”