I have a deep appreciation for Superman
that goes far beyond any fandom. I would not consider myself a “fan”
in the typical sense; I don't geek out over every new releases, I
don't rage over what they “get wrong,” I don't even appreciate
the majority of stories released about him in various media. Rather,
I relate to Superman on a deeply personal level, and the character
holds great significance for
my life.
I grew up with Superman, both watching
Superman: The Animated Series by Bruce Timm and reading comics we got
cheap at a book sale. There were plenty of other characters that were
a big part of my childhood, including Batman, the Ninja Turtles, and
the Rocketeer, but there was something about Superman that I
connected with in a different way. If ever I had a hero as a child,
it was Superman.
You see, Superman is strong. I mean,
sure, he could lift a bus with one hand effortlessly, but that's just
an outward manifestation of the deeper truth; Superman is
indomitable. Even when stripped of his powers, he charges forward,
utterly determined to do the right thing. He is a freight train of
will with a moral compass that will not be swayed. He is good, he is
determined, he is willing to sacrifice everything for what is right.
He is everything we should strive to
be.
Superman was an icon of virtue. And in
a very similar way to me as a child, my dad was an icon of virtue.
Growing up, my dad was Superman. Dad
was the best. Dad knew everything. Dad could do anything. I had this
idolized view of him, partly because of the things he taught us (The
3 Rules of Dad), and partly because if something was broken, he fixed
it; he didn't hire someone, he did it himself.
I still remember the first time I saw
him cry.
I can't recall any details, but I
remember going most of my life without seeing him cry, or at least
not recalling particularly noticing it. So I was in my teens when I
first really saw it. It devastated me. “Superman can cry,” was
essentially what I thought. “Even Superman can be weak; there are
things even he can't do.”
It shook my world, and my world
continued to shake for years after that.
My dad worked a lot, and he slept a
lot. We were a large family that always were taking in extras, and
money was always an issue. Dad had Chronic Fatigue. He'd take us to
movies and sleep through half of it. He'd come home from work and
take a nap and then still go to bed on time and so we wouldn't get
much time with him. But it's okay, he's tired, it's understandable.
It sucked, but what can you do?
When I got older, I learned how tired
work can make you, and I also learned how much you can still do even
when you're really tired.
And the world shook ever more.
One year, around when I was 20 (I
think), Father’s Day was coming up. I had very little money, and I
had things I didn't know how to communicate (I wasn't very open back
then). I decided to communicate with my dad in a way he would
understand; we are both writers, so I wrote him a story.
The story was about a son with a
live-in absentee father (he’s around, but he’s never really
“there”). The dad misses plays, baseball games, all the typical
stuff. In the end, it's revealed that the dad is Superman; he's not
around because he's busy saving the world. It's not intended as
justification, but to show the nature of things in a way that is
significant to my childhood. (I will post the story later if anyone
is interested in reading it).
I remember my dad crying after I read
it aloud to my family. I remember my siblings being offended by some
of the things I wrote (fiction or not, they knew it was about my
dad). Then my dad hugged me, and he thanked me, telling the others
not to be offended because it was true and needed to be said.
We exchanged stories after that, a
dialogue through short fiction (I really wish I still had them all).
It was very good for both of us; the honesty brought us closer
together, and it helped in our individual growth in different ways.
Afterwards, Superman was our thing.
Obviously it was different from everyone else. We saw Superman
Returns together, and it was powerful; we sat in the theater until
well after the credits had ended. My dad said, “I am sure we
experienced that very differently than everyone else here,” and it
was true. I don't care how much people hate that movie, it means so
much to me and is a crucial movie in my life. Unbreakable was
significant around the same time for very similar reasons.
Since then, my relationship with my dad
has been very strong. Superman provided a pivotal point in our
relationship, and has been a consistent source of strength and
inspiration throughout.
Even beyond my relationship with my
dad, I relate to Superman personally. The outsider looking in,
pretending to be something he is not in order to function in society
(for me, it was as a shy, quiet person struggling to present myself
as social and comfortable with people). The being with immense power,
saving countless people and agonizing over the select few he couldn't
save (I support friends and always struggle with being unable to do
more). The man with a secluded refuge to be alone (I long for my own
Fortress of Solitude). The introvert who processes things internally
(um, me). The man who wants to save everyone (guilty). The person who
agonizes over doing things for himself when he could be out helping
others (I have often felt guilty for simply taking care of myself
when people I know need support). There is so much about Superman’s
character and personality that I can relate to, I often feel like
he's a comic book version of me (I'll just ignore the fact that
everyone calls him boring).
So when I wear a Superman shirt, know
that I am not just a fanboy, and I am not just enjoying the culture;
I am expressing a significant part of myself in a very open but
subtle way. That S isn't just an icon, it's a symbol representing
fatherhood, strength, vulnerability, humanity, honesty, nobility, and
an idea of what a man should be.
My dad is Superman. I am Superman. The
cape, the shield, the powers… They're just reflections of who we
are.
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