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As the saying goes, it takes a village. Problems feel big. Problems are big. We need a village, yes, and a village of all superheroes.
Impossible? Not when we realize that the superheroes are You. Me. Him.
We have been here before. People are tired, people are frustrated, people need relief. Who has the answers? Who is going to make it better? Who will soothe the pain?
Is taking to the streets the only answer? Some will say, if you are not in the streets then… you are silent and okay with what happened. Is that true?
Not for me.
Every superhero team has lots of different skills. Some fly, some jump, some have x-ray vision, others build webs, or bend steel…
As parents we want our children to grow up smart and able to navigate the world. But when they go to school, the kids they grew up with expect them to take that education for granted. Our kids are bullied into hiding their desire to learn. Now comes the big question! If we as a collective stifle our desire to learn as much as we can, what is the answer to the question, why aren’t there more of us in these jobs?
We are not one mold as a people. We don’t want to be looked at as all the same. That means we shouldn’t bully each other to react the same.
But one thing I see all of us needing is male role model superheroes. And to be clear: by superhero, I mean Everyday Man.
I was lucky; I had many male figure influences in my life. Granduncles, Uncles, older cousins and co-workers. Each one a superhero in his own way.
My older cousins taught me how to act when I was out in the streets.
My Uncles stepped that up a bit and taught me how to be safe.
My Granduncles never let me forget our family history and my place in it.
Male teachers in school doubled as mentors.
My friends had dads, and the dads knew each other. So we had many eyes on us. Grown men working, living in the community.
Co-workers taught me how to work and get along with people. They also taught me how to manage money.
My father taught me everything else. He made sure I became a well-rounded man. He taught me self-defense, how to dress and take care of myself, how to buy clothes and take care of them so they would last for years. He taught me how to use tools and take care of small repairs around the house and car. I had basic skills in working with my hands.
None of these men set out to mentor. They were the everyday teachers. We didn’t need heroes in capes. We had Everyday Man, with his dusty work shoes, his gloves and rag in his pockets, his handkerchief that doubled as a face mask for a dusty job.
This is what men do. They lead by example. They set the mark. These superheroes do exist. They just don’t bring attention to themselves.
I know when I became a man. I was 19. My father said two men could not live in the same space and both think they were the head of the household; one of us had to go. Since he paid the bills and not me, it was clear which one of us was staying. I was the oldest of 10 kids, had a man’s job and was paying for a man’s car note. (I was feeling myself, as the older folks would say.)
It was my invitation into manhood. And I’ve been working to show up ever since. To help other men fly, jump, build webs, bend steel – or just change the oil in the car.
What skills do you bring to the table, superhero?
Find out more about Bruce, Certified Fatherhood Life Coach, on LinkedIn
To reach Bruce directly: Batlee72@hotmail.com