The first Purim costume I remember was dressing up as “Super Mordechai.” I was five years old and went all out – all in blue, red cape, red rain boots, a big Mem for Mordechai on my chest, black hat (since that’s what Super Jews wear of course), and blue tights. (I remember being teased for wearing tights!) It seemed only normal that the characters in the Megillah were superheroes.
Why do we love superheroes? They represent how a single person has the capacity to make the world a better place if they put their powers to good use. We are drawn to the heroic – whether in the comics or in reality - since, deep down, we each want to make that kind of difference.
It’s natural to feel this way.
A 2017 study from Kyoto University in Japan found humans
are drawn to heroes from early stages of development. In a series of
experiments, infants as young as six months were shown short animations in
which one figure chased and bumped into a second. Meanwhile, a third
figure watched from afar. In one version, the third figure steps in and
prevents the collision, and in the other, it runs away without
intervening. After watching the clips, the infants were presented with
replicas of the intervening and non-intervening third figures, and they
consistently preferred the one who saved the day.
These findings suggest that our sense of justice - and
likewise, adoration for heroes - is innate and explains why kids and adults
alike have a love affair with superhero stories in popular culture.
We admire heroes. At the same time, we should see ourselves as heroes.
Ben Rogers, a behavioral economist, wanted to know what would happen if ordinary people told their life stories in the arc of the hero’s journey. In a series of 14 studies, he and his colleagues that the more people thought of their own life as a hero’s journey, the more meaning they experienced in life.
Each of us is a superhero character in our own story. We’re not just individuals living ordinary lives. What we do has an impact way beyond our immediate environment. We may not always know exactly how, but small decisions and actions can be heroic.
I know many of us are thinking about Israelis and their strength and resilience. They’re all heroes. At the same time, they think Americans who visit them or who send them support are heroes. There are plenty of ordinary heroes we can look towards as models of what It means to live an ordinary heroic life.
Ron Hassner is a Political Science professor at the University of California, Berkely. The campus has been a hotbed of rising anti-Israel and antisemitic activity since October 7. He has never been an activist or one who attends protests. (He attended his first one ever a few weeks ago at a San Francisco march against antisemitism.) But Ron had seen too much hatred and violence directed against Jewish students and decided to act. He staged a “sleep in” and would remain in his office. He would sleep on the mattress on the floor and teach his 100-person “War in the Middle East” class over Zoom. (In case you’re wondering, he would use the bathroom down the hall, and his family brings him food.) Ron wanted to make sure his students – and all Jewish students – know there’s a light on for them and a safe place to gather, and he would stay until his requests were met.
“My first request…find a permanent way to keep Sather Gate open. My second request to the university is that if a speaker is shouted out, and has to leave campus without giving their talk, no matter if they’re Palestinian or Israeli, no matter if they are right wing or left wing, that they receive an apology from the university and that they be invited back. And my third request…the university provide Islamophobia and antisemitism training to staff. These are my requests, and they strike me as reasonable.”
Yesterday, after two weeks, Ron left his office after receiving assurances his requests were met. Ron Hassner is a hero. He stood up for his students, and he succeeded. It’s not always the loudest protests which are effective.
Michael Tuchin is the President of AIPAC. After October 7, anti-Israel protestors gathered at his home and vandalized his property. Their activities went viral and social media, and someone posted, “Give us the address and we’ll finish the job.” Here is a lay leader. He is a very active pro-Israel supporter, but he’s not a professional or a soldier on the front lines. And he is being legitimately threatened. Michael’s response is to "stand taller, fight stronger and do more."
Michael Tuchin’s resolve in the face of threats is admirable. He demonstrates how ordinary people – each of us – can be a hero by remaining steadfast in our beliefs and love for Israel.
Purim is the holiday for ordinary heroes. Mordechai and Esther were just characters in a terrible drama unfolding against the Jews of Persia. What was their superpower? Believing that redemption was possible. They didn’t sit back and let events unfold. They acted. Mordechai encouraged Esther to take a risk and appear before the King and realize that this could actually make a difference. Esther requested that Jews everywhere fast and pray in solidarity with her, to also put spiritual skin in the game and stand up as Jews. Add a few parties with only Haman invited to raise suspicions and people standing at the right place at the right time, and voila, the tables turn. Even the offhand comment by Charvona to hang Haman is credited as significant enough to “remember him for good.”
Be a hero! What kind of hero? Each of us is the superhero of our story. The decisions we make and actions we take will make a difference. We need to feel empowered. We should see ourselves as the one upon whom it is incumbent to get things done and not rely on others to do so.
We love heroes – comic book, spiritual, and real. Most importantly, let’s become heroes. Let’s take on the roles – large and small – that only we can accomplish.
Don’t look up in the sky. Look in the mirror. It’s a superhero.
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