no time to write now -
real life's insistent demands
swallow my daydreams.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Friday, September 14, 2012
Who Needs Superheroes?
I found this in a notebook I was going to toss... I don't remember writing it, but I liked it enough to post it here. I'm not even sure WHEN this was written. Sometime in the past five years, definitely. As Yul Brynner might say, in character, "Is a puzzlement."
Who needs superheroes?
I do.
I think we all do.
It's hardwired into us - this visceral need, this craving for the heroic. For something tangible that represents the hope, the belief, that good is stronger than evil. For a voice that tells us that fighting for truth is right and noble. For a presence that affirms that the world we live in, though flawed and darkly clouded, is worth saving.
A need for heroes is something that speaks to the part of all of us, hushed since childhood, that wants to howl and rage against the things that should not be. Children know this, know the truth, that even though life isn't fair... that it should be. We adults have shirked our duty, taken the easy path, let them down. We tell them, "Life isn't fair. Nobody ever said it would be." We wait for them to grow up and, betrayed by those who should protect and defend them, turn into sneering, cynical, blase teens who rightfully rebel against those who were once their heroes. We call it maturing... but what it is is the first of many small deaths of the soul. No wonder our world is full of alcoholics, drug addicts, petty criminals, and security fund brokers. If life isn't fair, why make the effort?
Life isn't fair? What does that even mean? That good things happen to bad people? Yes, because we allow it. We say we can't change it. That it's bigger than we are. That we have to live with corruption, cronyism, partisanship, deceptions large and small. We have allowed the corrupt and amoral to gain so much power for so long that it is no wonder our lights are snuffed out before they have a chance to burn with righteous indignation.
Or does "life isn't fair" mean that bad things happen to good people? That people die before we're ready to let them go? That homes are destroyed, families are broken, lives lost by disasters both natural and man-made? As I child I wept for the loss of a beloved pet. Not fair? No - "fair" has nothing to do with the natural cycles of life. It is neither fair nor unfair. It simply is. But the senseless death of a colleague's husband and young daughter, killed by a drunk driver as they were on their way to the little one's dance class - that is unfair. It should not be.
It is unfair when innocents die and the guilty live. Unfair that our society condones the use of alcohol, even drugs, by the individual - claiming that so long as "no harm is done" to the majority, our justice system can penalize the minority who do harm. But does a jail term compensate a grieving mother and sister for their loss? Not by a long shot. Is it fair? No - and there is no shame in crying out against unfairness. No shame in asking why - why bad things that did not have to happen do.
The answer to that "why" is the hero's call to action... not a call to answer, but a call to act. And if we do not have superheroes, if they cannot walk or fly among us, we turn to those who have the courage, the heart, to question the bland assertion of "Life isn't fair." We look to them as children look to cartoon supermen. We root for them, cheer them on.
We need heroes. We need superheroes, but in their absence, everyday heroes will have to do.
I see our young men and women in uniform fighting and dying in wars they did not begin - torn and battered, but still fierce in their proud warrior spirits that they will continue to struggle against tyrants and injustice and almost insurmountable odds. Many know, as we know, that war is unfair. But... hate it as we might, there are times when it must be fought.
I see my fellow teachers, struggling daily against the ever-growing burden of entitled, apathetic wealth and soul-starving poverty, of society's failure to take responsibility for its children and their families, of well-meaning politicians who - despite having never set foot on the other side of the "big desk" - feel that legislation and high-stakes testing and tying teacher salaries to statistical assessments can force reform and better education. And yet, these teachers come to school every day - many never taking even a single sick day - because the children need them.
I see parents who desperately want the world to be fair for their children grit their teeth and clench their fists as daily, money and power trump hard work and honest effort. What sort of message is that sending - that a man who kicks or throws a ball, that another who screams obscenities into a microphone, that a third who lies and cheats and cooks the books in a high-rise corner office makes more in a scant year than a mother working two jobs at minimum wage can make in a decade? But... off to work they go, single parents and married parents, because not going sends an even less palatable message.
We humans are deeply, unchangeable flawed. We are, each of us, in varying degrees selfish, judgmental, fearful creatures not much different (and certainly no better) than our primate cousins. Our drives are their drives - whether chimp or banker, gorilla or entrepreneur. First, stay alive. Make a family. Pass on part of yourself. Next, protect the family. Gather the best for yourself and yours. Drive off others who would diminish what you have. Finally, if you are in a place where you and yours have no worries about your survival, only then allow scavengers to take your leavings.
It often means, on a human level, that we turn a blind eye to those in need. We concoct reasons - they're lazy, they're here illegally, they're unworthy, unwashed. At the very least, they're Not Like Us. We managed to make a place for ourselves without help, after all - or our parents did. We build this, didn't we? We made it All By Ourselves. And who would come soaring in to our aid, if we needed it? Nobody, of course - and so we become the lack of change that proves the truth we so glibly spout. After all, superheroes don't exist - and we don't need them, anyway. Anyone worth his pulse can manage on his own two feet, right?
Except when they can't, through no fault of their own.
And that's why we need superheroes... or I do, at least. They may not be real. They may never be real... but they're needed, fictional or not. Desperately needed by a world that needs someone with the strength and courage to fight what is so very wrong.
Life isn't fair. But... shouldn't it be?
Who needs superheroes?
I do.
I think we all do.
It's hardwired into us - this visceral need, this craving for the heroic. For something tangible that represents the hope, the belief, that good is stronger than evil. For a voice that tells us that fighting for truth is right and noble. For a presence that affirms that the world we live in, though flawed and darkly clouded, is worth saving.
A need for heroes is something that speaks to the part of all of us, hushed since childhood, that wants to howl and rage against the things that should not be. Children know this, know the truth, that even though life isn't fair... that it should be. We adults have shirked our duty, taken the easy path, let them down. We tell them, "Life isn't fair. Nobody ever said it would be." We wait for them to grow up and, betrayed by those who should protect and defend them, turn into sneering, cynical, blase teens who rightfully rebel against those who were once their heroes. We call it maturing... but what it is is the first of many small deaths of the soul. No wonder our world is full of alcoholics, drug addicts, petty criminals, and security fund brokers. If life isn't fair, why make the effort?
Life isn't fair? What does that even mean? That good things happen to bad people? Yes, because we allow it. We say we can't change it. That it's bigger than we are. That we have to live with corruption, cronyism, partisanship, deceptions large and small. We have allowed the corrupt and amoral to gain so much power for so long that it is no wonder our lights are snuffed out before they have a chance to burn with righteous indignation.
Or does "life isn't fair" mean that bad things happen to good people? That people die before we're ready to let them go? That homes are destroyed, families are broken, lives lost by disasters both natural and man-made? As I child I wept for the loss of a beloved pet. Not fair? No - "fair" has nothing to do with the natural cycles of life. It is neither fair nor unfair. It simply is. But the senseless death of a colleague's husband and young daughter, killed by a drunk driver as they were on their way to the little one's dance class - that is unfair. It should not be.
It is unfair when innocents die and the guilty live. Unfair that our society condones the use of alcohol, even drugs, by the individual - claiming that so long as "no harm is done" to the majority, our justice system can penalize the minority who do harm. But does a jail term compensate a grieving mother and sister for their loss? Not by a long shot. Is it fair? No - and there is no shame in crying out against unfairness. No shame in asking why - why bad things that did not have to happen do.
The answer to that "why" is the hero's call to action... not a call to answer, but a call to act. And if we do not have superheroes, if they cannot walk or fly among us, we turn to those who have the courage, the heart, to question the bland assertion of "Life isn't fair." We look to them as children look to cartoon supermen. We root for them, cheer them on.
We need heroes. We need superheroes, but in their absence, everyday heroes will have to do.
I see our young men and women in uniform fighting and dying in wars they did not begin - torn and battered, but still fierce in their proud warrior spirits that they will continue to struggle against tyrants and injustice and almost insurmountable odds. Many know, as we know, that war is unfair. But... hate it as we might, there are times when it must be fought.
I see my fellow teachers, struggling daily against the ever-growing burden of entitled, apathetic wealth and soul-starving poverty, of society's failure to take responsibility for its children and their families, of well-meaning politicians who - despite having never set foot on the other side of the "big desk" - feel that legislation and high-stakes testing and tying teacher salaries to statistical assessments can force reform and better education. And yet, these teachers come to school every day - many never taking even a single sick day - because the children need them.
I see parents who desperately want the world to be fair for their children grit their teeth and clench their fists as daily, money and power trump hard work and honest effort. What sort of message is that sending - that a man who kicks or throws a ball, that another who screams obscenities into a microphone, that a third who lies and cheats and cooks the books in a high-rise corner office makes more in a scant year than a mother working two jobs at minimum wage can make in a decade? But... off to work they go, single parents and married parents, because not going sends an even less palatable message.
We humans are deeply, unchangeable flawed. We are, each of us, in varying degrees selfish, judgmental, fearful creatures not much different (and certainly no better) than our primate cousins. Our drives are their drives - whether chimp or banker, gorilla or entrepreneur. First, stay alive. Make a family. Pass on part of yourself. Next, protect the family. Gather the best for yourself and yours. Drive off others who would diminish what you have. Finally, if you are in a place where you and yours have no worries about your survival, only then allow scavengers to take your leavings.
It often means, on a human level, that we turn a blind eye to those in need. We concoct reasons - they're lazy, they're here illegally, they're unworthy, unwashed. At the very least, they're Not Like Us. We managed to make a place for ourselves without help, after all - or our parents did. We build this, didn't we? We made it All By Ourselves. And who would come soaring in to our aid, if we needed it? Nobody, of course - and so we become the lack of change that proves the truth we so glibly spout. After all, superheroes don't exist - and we don't need them, anyway. Anyone worth his pulse can manage on his own two feet, right?
Except when they can't, through no fault of their own.
And that's why we need superheroes... or I do, at least. They may not be real. They may never be real... but they're needed, fictional or not. Desperately needed by a world that needs someone with the strength and courage to fight what is so very wrong.
Life isn't fair. But... shouldn't it be?
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Stick Family Haters, Go Home
Seriously.If you hate stick figure families sooooo much that you're prompted to rant about it online, you really ought not be on the road. From the depths of passion I've seen in posts, blogs, and articles, it's clear that the mere sight of something honest, gentle, and (yes) harmless to you is enough to make you apoplectic with rage. You are a danger to yourself and to your fellow drivers. So... just go home. Sit in your dark, dingy little apartment or condo, or pull down the blinds in your bright, well-lit residence to make it suitably depressing, wear plenty of black or several-day-old jeans and sweats, and brood into your beer about how stupid everyone else is and how smart you are because you don't put vinyl window clings on your back car window. If that makes you happy, more power to you.
When I see things on cars that I don't like - and believe me, there are PLENTY - I roll my eyes. I grumble to a real flesh and blood person: Look at that loser. What a thing to say on a bumper sticker. Can you believe these idiots these days? Whoa. Someone has ISSUES. This one may have more than issues... he's got a subscription!
And then... I get over it, and generally forget all about it until the next idiot cuts me off.
I like stick families. They make me happy to see - even the ones with questionable skill in the artwork department. The world is far too full of darkness and factionalizing and haters; stick figures are gentle and often funny. Even the kinder parodies make me smile - the "abducted by aliens" family says to me, "Now, this is one unique family..." not "Now, here's someone who hates stick families." I like feeling like I kinda-sorta-know the person in front of me by looking at their back window... "Hah - look at that, a little football player and little cheerleader. Not my style, but hey... Oh, isn't that awesome - a Star Wars loving family! May the force be with you!" Bumper stickers or magnets don't do the same thing - they're often too harsh, even mean.
Which isn't to say I rushed right out to get my family "sticked." I wouldn't put any old generic stickers on my car, because we're not any old generic family. I looked long and hard to find one that let me get my own hair almost right, and offered a hiker figure for my nature-loving husband, a book lover for me, and a superhero for my son (who at that time wanted to wear his cape everywhere.) Let me take a moment to counter the usual "arguments" against putting stick families on cars.
1. They're pedophile magnets, and will get your kids abducted.
Sorry, but no. I don't think anyone should be putting NAMES under the figures - I guess I could agree a little with the above statement in that case - but mostly, the "you're a bad parent if you put your child's stick figure on a car" contingent clearly knows nothing about child abduction or molestation. Strangers are the least likely person to harm your child - it's sad, but it's true. Children are far more likely to be abducted or molested by a family member or family friend, who (presumably) already knows the child's name and interests. In all the cases linked to child abduction and molestation I've read about or heard about on the news, not one has ever been linked to car stickers. Argument debunked.
2. They're just rubbing it in the world's face that the driver is an affluent family patriarch or matriarch.
Um, sorry, not quite. I put my stickers on my car because I wanted to celebrate my family's uniqueness - to say, This is us. We Belong Together. We're not affluent. I doubt anyone is envious of me and my socioeconomic status... we've got it better than some, but we're nowhere near the image of "upper middle class." If people think that by putting a sticker on my car I'm lording it over them that I have a child and they don't... won't those same people be gnashing their teeth when I walk or skip into WalMart with my smiling, happy son, his hand snugly in mine? Or when we sit together over a shared snack at Subway, giggling at our own little jokes? I admit - I sometimes do think (or hope) that people may look enviously at my wonderful, well-behaved little guy, but I know that's mostly delusional pride. But stickers? Nope. Not trying to say anything more than, "My family matters more to me than snarky, sarcastic bumper stickers or political taglines do, so that's what I'm putting on my car."
And as for "affluent" - isn't the type of car you drive more a symbol of your financial status? I don't see too many Hummers parked outside the Dollar Store, for example. How about where you shop? If you hate people who have more money than you do (and I admit, I do fall victim to this more often than I'd like to), you really need to avoid places like the parking lot of Whole Foods. If shopping THERE regularly doesn't mean you're financially stable and don't care who knows it, I don't know what does.
3. Oh, come off it - they're just so ANNOYING! I absolutely HATE them! WHY do people do this? WHY?
Let's sit down for a moment and I'll put on my best Mister Rogers voice so we can have a Special Chat. Friend, there will ALWAYS be people and events in this world that annoy you. It's not a happy thing. And sometimes, things that make other people happy will make you very UNhappy. For me, people getting drunk for recreation and smoking pot and doing other drugs makes me very sad indeed. I feel sorry for these people, because I know there are better ways to make yourself happy in this life, and I worry that they might somehow do harm to me and my family if they get behind the wheel under the influence. But if I go around ranting about it... will I change their minds? No. Will I make myself happier? No. So I have to sit back and say, There are some things in the world that I don't like, but I can't change them myself. And as long as those other things don't hurt me or my family and friends... I guess it's probably not worth getting upset over. Try saying that to yourself when you see those stick figures. "Annoying to me? Yes. Harmful to me? Nope. Oh well. I guess I could put an anti-stick family sticker on my car... I liked that Cthulu one I saw... but then I'd have to spend money on it, and it's REALLY not worth spending money on... so I'll pass you, Mrs. Stick Family Driver, when it's safe to do so. And maybe, I'll get myself an ice cream to cheer myself up."
Feel any better? Probably not.
But I do.
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