We need a hero (spolier: it's you)
Hello you sunshine on my shoulders.
There have been lots of things to think about this week (and last week, and the week before, and the week before that). As the "new normal" emerges and we start to give shape to the fuzzy space of pandemic sense-making, I have been thinking a lot this week about heroism.
But hold your horses, pardner. Let's check in on the image that might have just popped into your head when I casually dropped the word "heroism": perhaps it conjured an image of a leather-clad, laser-gun-toting Will Smith busting down the door to the oval office, cigar between his teeth and muscles a-rippling, single-handedly cowboying his way into the president's top secret meeting (and our hearts) to save the planet from certain annihilation... Or perhaps more modestly, a well-storied figure like Winston Churchill, or Genghis Khan, or Hercules popped into your head. You do you, boo.
Either way, whether in history class, in our myths and legends, or in popular culture (oh my god someone please save us from the Avengers franchise)-- we have been encouraged to think of a "hero" as a person (almost always a man) who possesses some innate and unique ability (which we mere mortals do not possess) that affords them the wisdom, strength, insight and/or power to do great things and change the world. Traditionally, the hero narrative also revolves around an individual figure-- a larger-than-life, winner-takes-all go-getter-- and an accounting of the achievements and accomplishments they personally manifested which led them to be worthy of our admiration and their greatness.
This global pandemic has thrown so many well-worn expectations like heroism into question-- including some of our basic socio-cultural archetypes (hooray!). There is a psychology of heroism, and it actually doesn't map on particularly well to this individual-focused, saviour-type trope that we have been fed in movies and books. Fundamentally, heroes are people doing meaningful things in big and small ways for others and for the greater good. And that is what so many people are doing right now, on behalf of the collective "we", to help as many of us as possible come through this time in one piece.
From the medical experts helping manage the response here in Canada (who are almost all women); to all of the usually-unseen labour of sanitation workers; to the mobilized response of NGOs to protect the most vulnerable in our communities; to the front line medical community bearing the brunt of the risk, care and terror of this virus; to the people drawing flowers on their windows daily so that kids can hunt for fun pictures while they are on walks around their neighbourhood. And everything in between. And around. And across. And through.
Heroism is EVERYWHERE right now.... And none of these heroes are brandishing cigars or laser guns.
It is exactly the work that is typically considered "beneath" our concept of the powerful (male) hero that society needs most in this moment (and, truth be told, has always needed). This includes a huge amount of seeing and caring for each other, relying on each other's efforts and interconnected actions to create and effect bigger than the sum of its parts, and finding untapped reserves of patience and stamina for the long haul of this panedemic-- as opposed to the trope of one person bursting on to the scene with an epic heroic gesture that will save us all. Indeed, as noted in this cool article by Laurie Penny,"most of us know that when social structures crack and shatter, ... what happens is that women and carers of all genders quietly exhaust themselves filling in the gaps... The people on the front line are not fighters. They are healers and carers."
As I marinate in this kinda disaster-movie-brought-to-life moment along with everyone else, I have been trying to cobble together an understanding of what the present means and what the future could look like. In part this understanding will be informed by the past-- I am not suggesting we throw the baby out with the bath water-- but I am suggesting that this pivotal moment is also an inflection point for each of us to look with truth-seeking eyes at the stories we have been telling ourselves. This moment asks us to consider if these long-standing stories have been serving us well (because they are, after all, just stories), and how they might be rewritten to better reflect the authentic, collective experience of each other and the world around us.
In the case of heroism, while I have never really felt connected to the movie tropes, when I look around at what is happening right now, I have been tossing my popcorn all over the movie theatre, constantly and breathtakingly overwhelmed by the hundreds of moments of genuine heroism happening all around us; a heroism that "understands that we’re only as safe — or empowered — as the most vulnerable among us.... [and it understands that] how we take care of our bodies, minds and hearts... is political work."
We all have a heroic role to play in this moment even without storming into the oval office. But it is also true that none of our individual acts of everyday heroism would be possible or impactful without being combined with the heroic efforts of dozens, hundreds, thousands of other people. Our deep interconnectedness-- and the individual and collective power of mutual support and caring-- has never been more obvious. Or more important.
So, thank you for being your caring, kind, interconnected and heroic self. We are living in uncertain and unprecedented times. But also a time full of hope and community. As Penny says better than I could have crafted myself: "It’s the end of the world as we know it, and everything does feel fine—not fine like chill, but fine like china, like glass, like thread. Everything feels so fine, and so fragile, and so shockingly worth saving."
But wait! Perhaps all of this talk of heroism is feeling a bit too intense on a sunny Sunday morning? Then please feel free to join the rest of the self-isolated people in the western hemisphere and make some bread already. I liked the simplicity of this no-knead overnight bread recipe (thanks Leah!). And in case you run out of yeast, did you know you can harvest your own yeast from raisins...
Still too much realness? Then please enjoy the fruits of the small rabbit hole I descended into as part of writing this dispatch. Fill your boots with some toe-tapping music videos about heroes:
Holding out for a Hero (Bonnie Tyler) Speaking of cowboys... I forgot how incredibly frenetic and earnest this song is. And the video is full of 80s hair and fluorescent whips and enormous bell sleeves and Bonnie's knees inexplicably glued to the ground in front of a burning house... it is a FEAST!
Hero (Family of the year) Cowboys again... I am sensing a theme
Zero to Hero (Hercules) Unsurprisingly, Disney is into the hero trope
Heroes (David Bowie) Hero dolphins. Count me in.
I, Don Quixote (Man of La Mancha) Extreme trope-y heroism... but also catchy
Wind Beneath my wings (Bette Midler) Classic....
I will be there (Walk Off the Earth) A more modern classic...
Hero (Enrique Iglesias) Soaking in early 2000's trope...
We don't need another hero (Tina Turner) Honestly, mostly a necessary palate cleanser after Enrique
Hero (Mariah Carey) She gets it... maybe... kinda
There won't be trumpets (Bernadette Peters/ Anyone can Whistle) Not a great quality visual but the sound is pure Bernadette-- just listen to the first 3 minutes
Hero (Nickleback) Action-movie-reference overload
I won't let you know (OkGo) It is mildly on theme, but I included this mostly for the visuals
My Hero (Foo Fighters) Oh wait... this one might take the macho award
Hero (Skillet) So much fire!
From one hero-worshipping person to another, I am glad that we can be brave and caring together. I hope you enjoyed this dispatch, and have an trope-questioning-filled week!
Until next Sunday,
The Earnest Platypus