The Hero's Journey

Posted by Dave Schilling on 11.04.2008

My thoughts on this election for the ages...

Lately, I've been thinking about superheroes. People who know me know that I am prone to do this on a fairly regular basis. People who know me well know that it's all I ever talk about. From a young age, I've been enthralled by tales of daring-do and flights of fancy. My mind wanders to the fantastic at all hours of the day (except during acts of love, of course). I haven't always been the most popular, "hippest" person on the planet because of it, but it seems like the rest of the world is catching on to my particular fetish for the spandex and rubber clad denizens of the pulp page. Last summer's "The Dark Knight" was a pivotal moment in pop culture history, a summation of the rise of the superhero into the mainstream. Comics used to be "just for kids," like the old Spider-Man cartoons of the 1970s or "camp," like the Batman series of the 1960s or the awful movies of the 1990s. Today, they are dark, sophisticated entertainments designed to be enjoyed by anyone. My weird interests are now embedded in the zeitgeist for at least another few years. No more is that readily apparent than in today's election.

I've wanted to write something about Barack Obama for the last 2 weeks, but never quite found something to say that hasn't been said by a million other people, many of them with advanced degrees from Colleges with a capital ‘C'. It's been said that Obama is "post-racial," that he will turn the page on 8 long years in the wilderness of Dubya. His likely election to the Highest Office in the Land will mark a majorly significant milestone in our nation's history, one that cannot be understated. It will change a lot, some changes we might not ever live to see. The rap on Obama that I'm most interested in though is his characterization as a "superhero."

Pundits have been comparing Senator Obama's image as a "transformation" and "inspirational" figure to that of a messiah or costumed avenger coming to save America. It's trite to say, but it's got a taste of truth to it that is hard to ignore. From the firey speeches full of uplifting rhetoric to the Superman-esque ‘O' logo, it's hard not to believe that our possible next president says something about our collective state-of-mind. We are all looking for a person to make it right. American culture has always glorified personalities. We are a nation of the individual spirit. The concept of the superhero taps into the American belief that one man (or woman) can make a difference, that we all have the ability to move mountains inside of us. You can even say that it's the overriding theory behind the majority religion in America.

As a patriotic person, I want to believe all these things. I need to. Without that concept of humans as the makers of their own destiny, the American Project falls apart. The problem is, Barack Obama is not a superhero. He's a regular person with some talents that took him half a lifetime to cultivate; that required guidance to mold. He needed family.

The death of Barack Obama's grandmother made me think of the recent passing of my own grandmother, and by extension, my father. So many in my generation look up to Obama and see him as that superhero we all need him to be, but the most affecting moment of this campaign was seeing him eulogize his grandmother. Here's a man ready to write one of the grandest pages in history, but he can't share it with his mother, father or grandparents. I sometimes fear achieving great things in my life and not being able to thank the people that put me on that path; for them to never be able to see the fruits of their labor. How does this man balance the grief he is feeling with his immense gratitude and the crushing weight of history? These are questions I can't fathom the answers to, but they are questions that will continue to be with me in the coming days.

If Barack Obama must be a superhero, then let him be Batman. Bruce Wayne's family was taken from him at an early age, which led him to dedicate his life to fighting the injustice that took their lives and robbed him of his innocence. Obama's story is not nearly as tragic or arch, but the struggle is much the same. He fights to better the world that shaped him, because of some unquantifiable belief in the basic decency of his peers. Like Batman, Obama is not a cynical man. On the contrary, he is a man whose view of the world keeps him from true darkness. Obama could easily have become Bill Ayers or Huey Newton, using violence and fear to bring about change. He chose to listen to our forefathers who once wisely said that all men are created equal, even if they were quite aware in the 1700s that that meant blacks, Latinos, Asians, women and gays. The great difference between the fictional Batman and the real Obama is that Obama isn't a loner. He doesn't sit in his study brooding until the Bat-Signal comes on.

Barack Obama has taken on the one job that will, without a doubt, give us the Change We Need.

He's a father.

The family of his origin may all be gone, but he's created his own. I think about the woman I come home to every day, her overriding kindness and our future together. I can't help but cry to know my father and grandmother won't be a part of that future, but another part of me feels strong. I remember that I can be a superhero just like Superman, Batman or even Barack Obama. Even if Barack Obama isn't actually a superhero to America, he is to his kids and that's really all that matters.