A few days ago, we had someone request we run a popular editorial cartoon that was making the rounds on the Internet. It’s likely you’ve seen it too – of a group of superheroes, with Superman at the front, telling a smaller, grubby firefighter with a T-shirt reading Fort Mac, “Welcome to the club.” You can also see it here: http://tinyurl.com/zj6aonv.
I can see why people love this cartoon, because we put our heroes on pedestals. They are mythic, gargantuan in our imaginations, the stuff of childhood worship, the inspiration for dreams that we too could fly, or crush objects with super strength, turn invisible or walk through walls. (Who I am kidding, I still sometimes fantasize about this stuff). On the surface, the cartoon seems to say the men and women fighting the beast in Fort McMurray are just as great as these myths.
But the imagery rubbed me the wrong way – the super-sized superheroes, Batman with his arms crossed, condescendingly telling the small firefighter that he too could join them, as if he needed permission.
When I was younger, sure, a hero was someone who could stop a building from toppling to the ground or redirect a missile from hitting a plane. But as we get older, we realize how many variants of heroes they are, that they don’t always come in unbreakable form, that their kryptonites are the same as ours, the emotions of fear, pain, anger, loss; that they’re not just the ones can who can stop the building from toppling, but the ones who are there to pick up the pieces afterwards.
I’ve come to meet several heroes in the past 10 years, and yes, firefighters are among them – especially in rural areas, I am amazed to see people volunteering for this dangerous, exhausting job on behalf of their community. I’ve also met paramedics, doctors and nurses, who overwhelmed me with their compassion and dedication. I’ve seen awesome teachers and coaches, who are out there every day putting their hearts and souls on the line to help kids. I’ve met moms I think of as heroes – people who are looking after not just their own kids but other family and friends or the community, stretching themselves to better others and the world around them.
I think the core quality of a “hero” is someone who puts others before themselves. It’s not someone who is a distant and ethereal figure, but someone in the trenches that helps those around them find the strength and grace within themselves.
As I always say to my daughter, being a brave hero doesn’t mean you’re not scared – it means facing down the things you’re scared of and doing them anyway.
I think we need to reverse the cartoon in our own minds, to put mythical superheroes in their place, to have them look up at their creators and inspirers that are out there in the real world and doing the real work and say -
‘Wow - now that’s a superhero.”
