As I’ve covered in my blogs, I think that fiction and facts are separated only by BELIEF. We choose the science that we want to use to justify our opinions—we choose the numbers to support our arguments—we choose what side of history upon which to dwell. Never has that been more apparent than when we change between CNN fables and FoxNews fairytales.
So when I look back at my youth, I think about where I learned the most lasting truths that I still believe in. I give thanks to my Mom, for teaching me to read before I even went to school. I give thanks to Ms. Alfson for Shakespeare (who conveys more truth than any pile of encyclopedias).
I give thanks to Grandma, who gave me a stack of comics to take home every so often.
Those comics were my first true love. Full of life and imagination and excitement and insights. Characters and comedy and drama. Science and geography and literature. And so the newsprint pages and glossy covers stoked my imagination—my love for adventure—my appreciation for a world that isn’t black and white.
Comics showed me a new way to see a reality beyond the very limited experience out there on the farm where I grew up. The X-Men were a diverse group of individuals that made up a family. Spider-Man was just a nerdy kid who wanted to make the world a safer place. The Flash was a young hero who made mistakes and then tried to do better the next time.
These heroes used science, traveled the world, and skipped through history. As often as not when I recited some knowledge that was beyond my years and someone asked me, “Where did you learn that?”, the answer had come from that stack of comics. As an English major, Watchman changed my idea of what literature could be. As a kid, it was Batman and Wonder Woman who showed me what the whole world could be.
The world was full of color.
And so the adventure continues. From outer space escapades with the Green Lanterns to underwater exploration with Aquaman and every Justice League sojourn into the imagination, I learned about the real world, too. I found that there isn’t much difference between what you learn in Metropolis and you do in any American metropolis.
I learned that there were very different ways to see the world, but maybe we all didn’t see the world so differently. Everyone believes in something. And believing is what we all have in common.
It was a gift that shaped my everything. And I don’t even think she realized it when she sent that bespectacled boy home with a fresh, colorful stack.
Thanks, Grandma.
