Superheroes

I loved the Pixar movie The Incredibles when I first saw it. I thought it was funny, original, and exciting, and that it captured the fun of putting superheroes in an everyday, domestic setting. My only quibble was with the villain, Syndrome. Like all quality antagonists, he was hatching an elaborate evil scheme. The goal of that scheme? Create a world where anyone can be a superhero, thereby making no one a superhero. To which I thought, “What’s wrong with that?”

I thought of Syndrome while listening to a podcast last week in which the host and an author/historian discussed who deserved having a statue built to them and who didn’t. They both concluded that if anyone ought to have a monument, it was the 19th century writer and orator Frederic Douglas. What got my attention was a rather off-handed remark the guest made while reflecting on Douglas’s highly unusual rise to prominence. He pointed out that for most of his life, Douglas made his living almost entirely from his writing. “That’s hard to do today,” he noted.

How true, I thought. That an ex-slave could earn a living as a writer in pre-civil war America seems positively super-heroic. So much so, that as the podcast progressed, and as the two men heaped more and more praise on Douglas, I had to stop listening. I believed they wanted to inspire their listeners, but it was having the opposite effect on me. The more they built a monument to him with their words, the more special he became, approaching something slightly more than merely human. He was like The Incredibles, who may appear to be your average family, but are in fact something much more than that.

The only inspiration I can find in Douglas’s story – or in anyone’s, for that matter – is if I understand that he drew from the same well of genius and inspiration from which anyone and everyone can draw. If I believe he has special access to that well, that he had some super power, then all I can do is marvel at him, and think again about how some people are better than other people. That thought closes the door to inspiration, for now I’m not sitting down at my desk to find what I can share with other people, I’m only writing to learn which I am: a superhero, or a nobody.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual coaching and group workshops.

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com