The heroes of comics and storybooks are dead. The power to change the world now rests in the hands of everyday guys like you and me, and the time for a new, more relatable hero has arrived.
As a boy, I used to daydream about being a superhero. I’d spend hours creating imaginary worlds where the dragon needed slayin’ and the girl needed savin’.
These superheroes always had a mystical attribute that set them apart from the mortals around them; my superpowers always resembled The Man of Steel’s.
I was particularly drawn to the duality of character: Clark Kent, the quiet, reserved, nerdy journalist that blended into any crowd, and Superman, the seemingly immortal superhuman who fulfilled my boyhood dreams.
In Superman, I found hope that someone as ordinary and constrained as myself could be capable of a greater good, that despite my shortcomings and inadequacies, I, too, could be a superhero.
But as I grew from a boy to an adult, and as an adult became a young dad, I experienced the inevitable challenges that we all go through, and reality replaced youthful fantasy.
Tied down with a family and struggling to make ends meet, I bought the lie that I wasn’t worthy or capable of being a hero. I fel…