Brave civilians. Firemen. Ai Weiwei. Ernest Shackleton. You. Which of these people is a hero? In this issue of KidSpirit, our increasingly global community of contributors examine the heroic in disparate times and places.

1. In the Big Question, Khalid Husain tackled the question of whether time shapes our view of heroes. He concludes that heroes cannot be seen outside of the context of their time and culture. Can you think of a person whose actions would be considered heroic in any time or place? Work with a partner; suggest a person whose actions could be universal and have your partner think of a time or culture in which the same actions wouldn’t be heroic. Switch. Try this 4 or 5 times and then talk about whether you think heroes are always a product of their time and culture or whether some can be considered universal.

2. In Media, Sam Miller reviews the graphic novel Goliath, a heroic story told from the perspective of the classic antihero. Take a story of heroism you know well and narrate it from the perspective of the antihero. Does it change your feeling about the antagonistic character to view the world through his or her eyes?

3. In her PerSpectives article, Caroline Myss describes the silent hero — a person who often goes unnoticed and helps others simply by doing something that might seem beyond his ability. We do this all the time and don’t even realize it! Write about a moment from your own life when you did something you thought was impossible in order to help someone in need. It could be as simple as telling yourself to keep going and persevere when someone else is relying on you.

The Heroic Spirit Group Guide

In an ideal world, children are loved and nurtured by their parents. Parents are responsible for teaching their children moral codes, right behavior, respect, discipline, and all the other basic life skills essential to the early years of life.

Yet, while we are learning these fundamental lessons from our parents and teachers, another skill is awakening in us organically — our survival instincts. Somewhere around age seven, the instinct to survive kicks in just like clockwork in every human being.

The survival instinct is part of our animal nature. It’s a gut instinct that functions faster than reason. It activates our fight or flight mechanism. It sends feelings to our gut that tell us that the stranger walking down the street is dangerous or not. It tells us that we need to leave room or stay. Our survival instinct matures as we do; that is, as we become more able to respond to it, to trust it more, we rely upon it more.

All great heroes are great because they rely upon their survival instincts. Heroes are the quintessential examples of what the human being is capable of who knows how to count on his own inner resources, his own instincts, his own fight or flight mechanism. Heroes are the ultimate survivors not only because they are clever with weapons, but also because they are connected to one clear voice. They are not distracted in a world of chaos. They can make it in this world, no matter what.

Children know instinctively that they need to survive in this world — with or without their parents. They gravitate to larger-than-life heroes because they represent the ability to defeat any challenge that life can offer them. Young people see the flaws in their parents because they live with them. They see their parents defeated far too often by their challenges for a case of hero-worship to develop, although every now again a child does feel that a parent is his or her hero. That is a lovely but infrequent relationship.

We live in a society that loves its heroes but curiously has very few genuine public figures that model true heroes. Sports figures are not heroes — they are athletes. Movie stars and recording artists likewise are not heroes and yet many times they are referred to as such. A hero is someone who has successfully achieved a task that in some way benefits others or himself in a transformational way. Athletes and film stars do not meet those requirements except when playing roles in their films.

On the other hand, we are a nation full of silent heroes who serve each other behind the scenes and in times of great traumas. The Boston Marathon tragedy woke up the hero archetype immediately in more people than could be counted within minutes of that horrible bomb blast. Instantly people from every direction ran toward the wounded — in the direction of the bombed area — without consideration that a third or a fourth bomb might explode. Heroes think of others first. That’s what makes them heroes.

Days later a massive explosion hit near Waco, Texas, leaving almost 160 people injured and about 15 dead at the time of the writing of this article. The world around the community came to a halt as shock waves blew over the ruins of the town, devastated by an explosion in a fertilizer factory. Within minutes, first responders were on their way, along with volunteers and neighbors and people from the surrounding towns, lining up with blankets, food, water, and arms waiting to hold the weary. These people hardly think of themselves as heroes but three volunteer firefighters looking for survivors of the blast perished. They had no idea that morning that it would be the last day of their lives, that they would die trying to save people they did not even know. But that’s the stuff heroes — real heroes — are made of.

We are a country full of silent, loving, caring silent heroes who spring into action the second crises arise. Some people do not discover they have what it takes to be a hero until their moment comes, that moment when they are called upon by destiny and circumstances to make the bravest decision of their lives: Do I jump on the railroad tracks to save that person from the oncoming train? Do I stay with strangers all night because they are from another country and terrified? Do I really have what it takes to give that much of myself? You never know how to answer that question until it is really asked of you. That’s when you discover whether you have what it takes to be a hero.

In a society genuinely captivated by heroes, we should do what we can to help young people become the real thing in their own life. What if, for example, schools initiated a program called, The Hero’s Journey? It could even be a weekend retreat in which young men and women were introduced to the idea that life is a journey of challenges, some of which are supposed to be faced alone. What an outrageously original truth to teach our youth: obstacles in life are inevitable and you are meant to encounter some of these by yourself. You would be well served as a young person to know ahead of time that these challenges await you. No one ever knows when their moment will come or what their particular Hero’s Journey will look like, but every person’s journey is meant to test their fortitude, their survival instincts, and their faith in an inner common sense and wisdom.

Genuine heroes are those who make it through their own Hero’s Journey, though few if any of them would say that they recognized their difficulties at the time as an initiation into the ranks of the Hero. What they will tell you is that they knew that they had to keep going, that they had to rely on themselves especially if others were counting on them, and that they had to believe in something greater than themselves in order to get through the toughest times.

The role of being a hero is not something a person can sign on for. I’ve never heard a young person say, “I want to be a hero when I grow up.” Yet I have seen the admiration young people have for hero figures, especially larger-than-life ones who give the impression that nothing can defeat them. People who have made it through the Hero’s Journey in their own life discovered for themselves that they stand up to defeat pretty well. They know that no matter what happens in their life, they will find a way to get through it. That’s what heroism is really all about.

In a KidSpirit PerSpectives article, author Caroline Myss identifies the key characteristics that make heroes: perseverance, compassion, and a strong survival instinct.

Why We Need Heroes

Chery is a girl who lives in Poso, Indonesia, a city with about 200,000 inhabitants. For over a decade the region has suffered from intense Christian/Muslim violence. It is estimated that 60,000- 80,000 people have fled the area. Here, Chery describes what she views as the essential qualities a Christian should have.

I grew up in a Christian community. My mom and dad are farmers but also activists in the church.

When I was three years old, my parents and two of my sisters and I walked through the mountains and into the woods. We slept in refugee camps overcrowded with thousands of others. We couldn’t eat every day. I was starving for days. We were displaced during the conflict in Poso and have been living in refugee camps for the past five years.

Although we were displaced, I believe that God is protecting us and that God is our savior. God is all-loving and all-merciful. God has power over us. Mom and Dad say that God is to be worshipped as God gives us life. He does not allow us to walk in darkness and will give us light to walk on the right path. We can meet with God through prayer and by helping others.

If you look at the Bible, in the book of Luke, Luke talks about the Good Samaritan. The Good Samaritan is an example of what a Christian should be like: a Christian should help anyone, even a stranger. In refugee camps we helped others get food and drink. Many people are helping us live, even up to this moment. Most of the people who helped us did not know us; they just knew we were refugees. I was once given a cake by my mother who did not know that I was starving. In my opinion, if a friend lacks something, we can provide it. And we should not just help our friends but also others we don’t know. For example, if a friend of mine wants to borrow something, I would lend it to her because she’s my best friend. But if there are others who I do not know who want to borrow my stuff, and I don’t let them borrow it because they’re not my friend, that’s wrong. It should not be like that. We should help everyone, even those we don’t know. If we help someone, we are the followers of God.

God teaches us to help each other even if the other person is a stranger. That way we are doing what is commanded by God. That’s what I learned as a child, and what I believe now.

In a KidSpirit Interfaith Connections article, teen writer Chery describes how living in a refugee camp has instilled in her the heroic Christian ideals of generosity and compassion.

The Heroic Life of a Good Samaritan

My path to Buddhism was not without unexpected twists.

Born into a family in religious flux, I often echoed my elders’ teachings, whether it was to heed the wisdom of the Buddha, honor my ancestors, or kowtow to the heavenly gods and goddesses that decorated our traditional silken red altar. While my grandparents had grown up with a strict Buddhist upbringing, my parents — first-generation Americans — had looser spirits about Buddhist practice.

Unlike many other children my age, I was raised primarily by my grandparents, in their cozy apartment in the middle of Queens. My toddler years were filled with innocence and a curiosity to observe everything around me. I can remember every morning waking up to find my grandma on her knees by the altar, upon which an assortment of oranges, jujubes, peanut-covered glutinous rice balls, and golden coins rested. The hypnotic chants of monks would fill the air as the incense closed in on me, and tentatively I’d take a seat beside her to observe this early morning ritual. As I listened to my grandmother’s tales of the past, brave heroes and stubborn children, compassion and tolerance, I paid them little mind. Little did I know they would become so much more.

My parents decided that when I was a tender four years old, I’d had enough of the carefree lifestyle I was living in New York, and they brought me back to our one-family home in the suburbs of New Jersey. Considerably more open, with more grass to run across, more sunlight to soak up, and more breezes to caress my face as I ran, I forgot, for the most part, my brief encounter with Buddhism. In fact, if it weren’t for our family reunions, I’d have become so Americanized that even the onset of Chinese New Year would bring nothing more than the shame of forgetting the double meanings of half the dishes on the table.

It wasn’t until I was 12 years old that I rediscovered my roots. The circumstances couldn’t have been more coincidental. My mother decided that I needed to learn to take responsibility for my own actions and that I ought to start volunteering in my community. My friends were into Girl Scouts, so my idea of community service was setting up a booth with some friends outside an IHOP and trying to convince a few passersby to buy boxes of cookies. What I had definitely not expected was to be signed up for kitchen duty at a small Buddhist temple in Flushing, Queens.

The Ch’an Meditation Center was basically a place for Buddhists and non-Buddhists to meet and discover their full spiritual potential. I was greeted by several monks, invited to attend a chanting and lecture on the Dharma Sutra, and to participate in a kowtow to the bodhisattvas — enlightened beings who have refrained from attaining the ultimate peace in order to bring others to enlightenment, called nirvana. It was a transcendent experience like no other. Before the day was even over, I was reveling in a new philosophy: the Ch’an Buddhist philosophy, which praises virtues and compassion along with encouraging self-reliance and discovery.

Many may be unfamiliar with the Ch’an tradition, but Westerners can recognize it as the predecessor to the more widely known Zen. A branch of the Mahayana Buddhism, it exists mainly as the Chinese tradition, with emphasis on three trainings: the training of virtue and discipline in the precepts (the Buddhist code of ethics), the training in meditation, and the training in recorded teachings. Apart from the self-inquiry and meditative exercises, however, one of the most important lessons I’ve learned from the venerable monks at Ch’an focuses on heroism.

How does one define heroism? In the simplest sense, Ch’an Buddhism calls for great bravery and courage. As many before me have experienced, the road that a Buddhist takes is not easy. True heroes do not wait for others to make choices for them. They take their own actions into consideration, and determine their own futures. In fact, one of the greatest heroes of history is His Holiness the current Dalai Lama of Tibet, of the Tibetan Buddhist tradition. Born Tenzin Gyatso, the future Dalai Lama lived in a time of much political turmoil. In the 1950s, when Communist China took over his home land of Tibet, he was forced into exile. For nearly four decades, Gyatso wandered, seeking help for the people of his land. From his compassion and unparalleled courage to confront prominent political leaders, he was able to preserve aspects of Tibetan culture that might have otherwise been lost.

Heroes are not simply people who care for themselves, they are compassionate. Rather than retreating in times of trouble, a true hero is able to see past their problems and reach out to lend others a hand. Compassion, one of the greatest virtues of Buddhism, teaches us to help others. No matter how terrible the situation may seem or how impossibly low a person may sink, there is always forgiveness. We must always give others a second chance. By being a person who forgives and moves on, we are being our own heroes. There is no shame in forgiveness, but there are great repercussions that come with hypocrisy and breeding negative feelings. The universal Golden Rule teaches us to do unto others as we would like others to do unto us. By banishing preconceptions, we can strengthen our kinship with those around us, forming a bond of brotherhood. After all, the true source of courage is in the heart. Only by opening our hearts to others can we understand their pain and find a way to help them along, rather than fighting or being indifferent to them.

One of the most important parts of being a Buddhist is finding your own path in life. Among the Buddha’s great teachings is the Noble Eightfold Path, which provides guidelines to the path to end suffering. Through wisdom, ethical conduct, and moral development, one is able to discover oneself amidst the chaos that is life. An ethical practice in Buddhism is called “the dedication of merit.” In simple terms, it is the attribution of our good deeds with blessings and goodwill. While doing good deeds is certainly commendable, Buddhists understand that the ultimate act of unparalleled goodness comes from the heart, not the mind. Dedicating the merit of our deeds to the awakening of all beings — the enlightenment that all Buddhists seek — is the ultimate goal. For instance, it is not unusual for us mortals to praise the generosity of others. However, what Ch’an Buddhists strive to attain is not simply a heroic act of compassion. Even more important are the implications of the act of generosity, both within the self and the outside world. Declaring the merit of an action can be as simple as donating a dollar to the American Red Cross and dedicating it to a loved one suffering from a disease. Because the intention is well placed, something tangible is to be gained and thus the person has taken action on the spiritual path towards discovery.

An essential quality for every hero is to be a role model for others. Those who are too focused on their own needs rarely think beyond the issues of the present, but someone who is open to others and shows an openness to share the emotions of others is a true hero. Heroes are not people without flaws, though; that would create a false image, and there is no such concept in Buddhism. A person’s flaws show how even those with the best intentions do not always succeed. Heroism is the line that separates those who will persevere in their mission from those who are too weak to endure the pain of failure.

Though I can already relate many more teachings of the Ch’an tradition to my personal life, I still have much to learn. Buddhism is a path that does not end in one lifetime — the joy of traveling along the journey to end suffering is every bit as important as reaching the ultimate goal. Ch’an Buddhists believe that everyone has the potential to become a Buddha and realize their true nature, and that there is always forgiveness even in the face of failure. The Buddha taught that one must have compassion for all sentient beings. In other words, personal gain is irrelevant when there is the chance to help others. Any good deed causes an unequivocal inner surge of happiness. The Ch’an practice has taught me to appreciate the small blessings that surround me, and to lend a hand when I can, regardless of the consequences. Compassion is not simply an objective of life; in order to help others, we must begin by becoming our own heroes.

Do I regret my late start in Buddhism? Perhaps, but I am equally grateful that I was given the chance to discover for myself the joy of spreading compassion. Maybe it was more than a coincidence that my first encounter with volunteer work led to my discovery of a philosophy that continues to broaden my view of the world today. Heroism is more important to Buddhism than I previously realized. From my experience working with the monks at the Ch’an Meditation Center, I have become increasingly mindful of my surroundings and will strive to make a difference through my every action. After all, it is the small acts of courage that make a true hero.

In a KidSpirit Interfaith Connections article, teen writer Sharon Lin reflects on her journey to Buddhism and all it has taught her about compassion, kindness, heroism, and perseverence.

An Unexpected Path to Heroism

Yellow pants, yellow shirt, black boots, red heart.
Trapped with burning limbs that aren’t his,
He wears no cape, just a breathing apparatus,
And adrenaline levels higher than a skyscraper.
With no complaints and no questions,
He submerges himself into a pit of hate,
Facing an enemy that will never give in.
An enemy that will destroy everything.

Laser vision is overrated.
Invisibility is too
One does not need super strength or speed
To know what he needs to do
I see a world where courage is measured,
Not in muscles, chiseled faces and chins.
But with the heart in your chest,
Beneath your bones and skin.

White shirt, brown shoes, blue jeans, red heart.
He’s a victim of the times.
He joined the club three months ago
Of the seven point eight percent.
You’ll find no food in his stomach.
There hasn’t been for days.
He passed all he had
To those who went away.

Batman will always beat the bad guys.
Superman will always win.
They are so high above us,
Yet people are something to believe in.
I can be a hero, just like anyone else.
I can have courage without brawn.
In this world with everyone,
I will carry on.

In a KidSpirit poem, teen writer Will envisions a world of more mundane — but no less selfless or courageous — superheroes.

Carry On

In another world,
A hero is someone who can do the impossible,
Any task or deed will be done on the double
With their cape and tights, they fly off into the air
To fight off crime without a care.
Superman, Batman, Spiderman —
Who better?

However, in this world we call reality
Away from all the comics and afternoon cartoons
Who and what exactly is this person we call
A hero?

A hero is someone who is always there
When you need someone to really care,
A hero is someone who thinks outside themselves
To aid you when you are down.

A hero is someone who puts everything into anything —
Their hopes and dreams invested into what they love.
A Hero need not succeed
For at least they attempted to fill a need.

Who may this be,
This person we call a hero?
This hero doesn’t need to be perfect,
As no human may ever be,
Though this hero may not be Superman
Or that character you always dreamed to be
This hero is someone you will always
Want to be.

The answer is
Quite obvious indeed,
This man everyone calls a hero
Is actually someone who you see looking back at you
Every day, until the end.

Though you may be surprised,
Spiderman is surely powerless
To this Hero
To this hero we all call
Y-O-U.

In a KidSpirit poem, teen writer Liam redefines our conventional understanding of a "hero" — and comes to an important conclusion about who can step into that role.

Who Is Really a Hero?

in biting wind, lashing rain or soft summer breeze

In a KidSpirit poem, teen writer Alice evokes a transformation from something delicate to something ferocious, powerful, and groomed for the hunt.

Artemis

All humans long for glory
and desire to be heroes.
They long for recognition,
recognition that feeds egos.

The ambitious human waits
patiently to be praised.
He commits noble actions,
hoping men will be amazed.

But a true hero does good,
Not for his self-esteem.
Nor does he do noble acts
to achieve his own dream.

A hero is a hero
for his love of life.
Heroes act for humanity,
in every form of strife.

Whether it be a petty issue
or a major cataclysm,
They will be there for you,
And that is true heroism.

In a KidSpirit poem, teen writer Umar advocates for a kind of heroism that refuses the temptations of ego, ambition, and fame.

True Heroism

A chivalrous champion with aplomb,
Protects his dependents and brings calm,
Admired by the masses and feared by his foes,
Yet inside him a demon grows.

From outside he appears as stout as a tree,
With a sword in hand he roams free,
Yet inside him emotions run wild,
His savage mind is riled.

He conquered all that is to be gained,
His name and exploits never waned,
In wealth he reveled and wallowed in fame,
He held up the stars with his sway

Though our hero’s legacy is fine,
It’s peppered with shows of anger and pride,
For even though he conquered the world,
He cared not to tame his capricious mind.

Though undefeated in the field,
Before his fickle mind he kneeled,
Though he had the world to himself,
Inside he remained devoid of wealth.

To face oneself takes strength of mind
And to accept one’s faults and flaws of kinds,
The true enemy is within,
The greatest hero can look inside.

In a KidSpirit poem, teen writer Nimai argues that a hero's greatest challenge is to look inward and conquer their unresolved feelings of anger, pride, and selfishness.

What Is a Hero?

In a KidSpirit poem, teen writer Richard spurns the two paths presented to him in favor of forging his own way through the world.

My Dawn

When I leave,
Remember the paths I’ve taken.
For this is the reason,
That you have something to believe in.

Closely inspect the wrong turns
That I hastily passed.
Too focused on ultimate destiny
Has blinded the purpose of my past.

Everyone chooses their own journey,
Thus bravely overcome the broken paths.
With courage and gratitude,
Fate is the only barrier that lasts.

So please, do not overlook your mistakes
Nor be afraid to reach your dreams.
The confessions of my hollow life
Is the proof that you must fulfill yours.

In a KidSpirit poem, teen writer Ashley's narrator admonishes us to choose our destiny and learn from the mistakes of our forebears.

The Paths I've Taken

Coldness had tiptoed into New York City as the winter bird had begun weaving its nest. It let out chirps in the air and I swallowed them in, my tummy tumbling. I walked through the neighborhood of New York University, my heart bustling, just like the city.

It was November 11th, 2012, and of course, I was psyched. How can someone not be, when they had traveled all the way from Mumbai to collect an award, in probably one of the best magazines for teenagers worldwide? Chills went down my spine. It broke through like thunder, but what didn’t strike me was that thunder too, is a form of light in the darkness. I had to read out my piece and the thought was spine tingling. These sorts of notions raced through my brain: “What if I don’t do well?”, “What if I fumble?”, “If people don’t like me and find flaws?”

But whether the people liked me or not, I liked the first people I met. And the cold of New York was meaningful, due to their warmth. This warmth led me to stream up the stage with the colors of my poetry. I just closed my eyes and the rainbow collided with the hearts of the audience. The real treasure was the after party, of course. But there was a party before the awards begun too and that’s where I met a lot of incredible people. Meeting the New York editorial board was enthralling. Their personalities were bubbly and they captivated me with their sensitivity. Then came the embrace of Lama Surya Das, the embrace of a new life. It still makes me wonder what lovely deeds I must have done in my past life, to meet him. And the turning point was when he told me he saw in me a divine future and hugged me. The warmth of them all, truly, was enough to put out the cold.

Meeting the incredible people was probably the biggest boon. The rich smiles, the wealth they had in their souls is worth a special mention. The response I received for my poem was thrilling. Since I wrote this poem in the seventh grade, I wasn’t quite sure how well people would appreciate it, but it was lit in peoples’ hearts and that gave me utmost satisfaction.

It suddenly came to me, between all those moments of the awards and thoughts between smiles, between the starry eyed wonders and day dreams—the power of poetry.

To be able to mould people’s lives and kiss their souls with words, to take them to a place of spirituality and depth; that is what poets and writers are meant for. We serve the world with our talent—like moonlight in the darkness of the reader’s mind. It is said that we are all made of stars but I believe poets see those stars more clearly and put up constellations to guide people home. A real poet will make you believe that pixie dust floats through your pores and that your woe will soon evaporate and never come back. This is true heroism. Poetry is a wonder of rhythm and beauty, a balance of nature and wisdom.

After visiting New York, my love for poetry has grown. I have learned to weave my own nest, like the winter bird, and find warmth. I wanted to share that warmth. I realized how blessed poets and writers truly are, to sail across the ocean of folly and make something out of it, so manifestly that it might change the tunes of other people’s thoughts.

It also dawned upon me how united people with similar interests could stand. It felt beautiful being born–how fortunate to be born into a world where poetry and writing exists. I felt the seeds of new plants about to take birth, ready to create new trees that would give shade– shade to all.

I ache to achieve more, to serve, to be a hero. To make sure my birth leaves an impression that can be a poem itself. I hope that happens; but there have been heroes for us to follow. Oscar Wilde and Sylvia Plath, these are the poets to look up to. Do we have the power to see the world in a flash and see shapes that carve a new path for the world to follow? If we are poets, we are a home that people have been aching to find. I thank The Big Apple and the most incredible people for helping me fathom the true light of poetry: to touch people and to understand the music beneath their skin.

In a KidSpirit Awesome Moments article, teen writer Niti reflects on the power of poetry to transform the world after traveling to New York City to receive an award for her work.

The Big Apple Is a Poem Itself

I guess I should start by introducing myself. My name is Ethan Wills. I am a normal kid with a really cool job. I am an actor. Currently, I work on a new television drama called “Granite Flats.”

Life on set can be a challenge. Every day you are flipping back and forth from being a kid in school to being a working professional that “plays a kid.” As a professional actor, I am always preparing for the next scene, the next day, and the next audition. I am always aware that time is money in the whole production process. Every minute of filming is worth a lot of money, because of all of the professionals and equipment that are needed to make a scene work well. Sometimes heroes arise amidst these pressure-filled moments on set.

When I am working, I rehearse a scene with the other actors for the director to see how they want it to move through the room for location that the scene is in. This is called blocking. We decide where everyone will begin and where and where the action takes place. This is all done with the director and the director of photography (DP), and then the crew comes in and watches as we “do the scene” so that they know how to set up lighting, sound, electrical, cameras and equipment. Every single job is so important in filming because you have to have every member of the team doing their job perfectly in order to capture the perfect picture. Sound, lighting, cameras, acting, directing, wardrobe, set design, hair and make-up, electrical — all of this must work together just right in a short amount of time to get each scene just right. I love it because I love being a part of telling a great story and working with so many funny and great people.

When I think of a moment where someone “heroic” greatly influenced me, I immediately think of Beth Howard, the Creative Director on the show. Popular heroes in film (Batman, Superman, etc.), are always coming to the rescue, but are comfortable being behind the scenes until they are needed. This is Beth Howard. When on set, she is quietly working to get the job done, but goes out of her way to help others.

I remember one day in particular that was really challenging for me. I had a lot of dialogue and was working with a large group of kids who were watching me in a classroom setting. To top it off, there was a new director on set and we had just returned from a long break from filming. I had put a lot of pressure on myself to make my part of the scene PERFECT. However, if you have ever watched bloopers or out-takes of any show or movie you would know that sometimes actors make mistakes. Well, I did and I was feeling awful about my performance. I felt guilty for slowing up the filming process and setting back production. When I was at my weakest moment, Beth stepped in. She was so reassuring and made me realize that I had put too much pressure on myself and made it a much bigger deal than it really was. (An actor being dramatic, how ironic is that! Ha!) Most importantly, Beth was a friend. I needed a friend at that moment. I think that being a true friend IS heroic. Beth inspired me and reminded me to be that friend to others in my life.

In a KidSpirit Awesome Moments article, teen writer and actor Ethan describes how the creative director of Granite Flats helped buoy him after he imposed huge expectations on himself.

Behind-the-Scene Heroes

Now the Philistines gathered; the armies of Israel stood on a mountain on the other side. And there was a valley between them.

With these words, Tom Gauld sets the scene for Goliath. We can only imagine the drama that will ensue, the bloodshed, the pandemonium. In fact, this couldn’t be farther from the truth. Within a mere ninety six pages, our hero will not only blunder the opportunity to fight the enemy, but will be lying dead on the ground, severed head beside him. And the strangest part, this happens in cartoon form. Adapting an age old biblical tale to fit the narrow constraints of a comic book was surely no easy task for Tom Gauld. Little did I know writing about it would be an equal challenge.

David and Goliath seem an unlikely choice for the basis of a graphic novel; especially for an artist known for his stark and simple comic strips. When I mentioned this to Gauld in a recent interview his answer caught me off guard. “One day I thought of Goliath and looked up the story in the bible,” he explained, “I knew pretty much straight away I could work with it.” Gauld may say this as casually as “I could go for a tuna sandwich on rye,” but the actual writing process wasn’t as spontaneous. “Once I started thinking about Goliath’s position,” he said, “I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.” Gauld’s version of the character takes on a whole new context. No longer is he arrogant and monstrous; rather, he’s tranquil and misunderstood. He’s a gentle giant.

It’s the dead of night. We see a village perched atop a hill, illuminated by the glow of a full moon. A dreary-eyed Goliath is hard at work, refilling his canteen in the river below. Submerging the bottle underwater, he reaches for a stone. As he examines it, a fellow soldier calls his name making his way down-hill. The soldier warns Goliath of the enemy’s close proximity. “You should be careful,” he says. They say goodnight, and Goliath drops the stone back into the shallow water. This opening scene is critical. Goliath is both warned of the enemy, and locates the object that will ultimately lead to his annihilation—a simple stone. Soon after the midnight encounter, Goliath reluctantly challenges the enemy to a battle, a fight to the death that will assert the Philistines’ superiority. After waiting for what feels like eternity, his nemesis, David, finally accepts the dare. He throws a stone at Goliath, killing him.

In an interesting twist, the story is told from Goliath’s perspective. This is an ambitious concept, fascinating. “The story in the bible is so totally from David’s point of view,” Gauld tells me, “He’s hardly a character at all in the bible, he’s more of a list of measurements.” Not much happens in Gauld’s version though. Goliath waits with a young admirer—a shield bearer, conversing and dozing off. The approaching battle is foreboding, and the book captures the fleeting moments of serenity beforehand.

The pace of the story is unusual. It’s a quick read, straight and to the point. This works as an advantage. However, more dialogue would certainly enhance the book, because when it does appear it’s clever and engaging:

Shield-Bearer: Everyone’s talking about you. Did you punch a camel and kill it?

Shield-Bearer: And you don’t eat rocks?

Shield-Bearer: Is it true you have a gigantic “you-know-what?”

Goliath is defined by its minimalism, as nothing seems out of place or excessive. The landscape Gauld depicts is stark and lonely, made up of rolling hills, twig like trees, and a few rocks. “It just seems to be my natural instinct to pare things down,” Gauld reflected, “I like the idea of taking everything away which isn’t necessary until there’s just a very simple skeleton of a story.” While this style works to its advantage, at times I also found the “skeleton of a story” almost painfully minimalist. Gauld is an undeniably skilled artist, yet his style doesn’t translate well to such a large scale. The sterility of his drawings get in the way of a riveting and exhilarating story. It’s best taken in small doses. I found myself hoping for variety, and yearning for excitement.

Capturing the essence of Goliath seems a nearly impossible task. I read and re-read the book, drafted and re-drafted this review. I’m still trying to figure out whether it’s brilliant, or whether it’s missing the embellishments of the age-old biblical tale. It’s an enjoyable read, attractive and charming. Upon closer examination, however, there is an emptiness. Goliath has an inexplicable mystique. Perhaps it’s best to leave it that way.

In a KidSpirit Media review, teen writer Sam shares his thoughts on Tom Gauld's comic, "Goliath," a reimagining of the biblical story of David and Goliath.

A Review: Goliath by Tom Gauld

A group of men stand on the deck of a ship looking out over the frozen, desolate landscape of the Antarctic continent. The men are Ernest Shackleton and his crew. They are trapped in a prison of ice, hundreds of miles away from any civilization with little hope of rescue.

The Endurance is an incredible tale of resilience and courage. The movie named after Shackleton’s ship, portrays him and his crew on their famous 1914 Antarctic expedition.

The action starts with the prologue to the story, in which Shackleton arranges for his voyage, hires his crew and makes preparations. His crew sets sail on the 6th of August 1914 with Shackleton following on the 27th of September. They seek to cross the Antarctic continent, something that has not been done before. The expedition reaches Antarctica where, about one hundred miles from the coast, they become trapped in ice. The events that ensue are hard to believe. Even though this is a documentary, it could easily be a work of fiction with its unexpected twists and turns. Yet it is better than fiction as the story is factual. This is not a movie that will have you dozing in front of the screen, waiting till it is over!

This is a striking and inspiring film. It depicts unimaginable hardships and an extreme will to stay alive on the part of Shackleton and his crew. In making decisions, Shackleton displays his skill at coming up with very creative solutions to unthinkable problems, all the while operating with reason. He and his men never give in to panic. Shackleton is his crew’s hero and their strength.

The film includes footage and photos from the original voyage taken by photographer Frank Hurley who accompanied the group. These are juxtaposed with more recent scenes of the Antarctic. Interviews with living relatives of the original crew are woven through the film. The fact that the footage was taken as the events were unraveling makes you feel like you are on the ship, sharing all the danger and desolation. It keeps you completely immersed in the film.

The movie portrays the life of a twentieth-century explorer, on one of the last great discovery missions. It tells the story of a man who dreamed of the poles and longed for glory through pushing the boundaries of human exploration. The fact that Shackleton set out on the voyage to Antarctica was a heroic act as, then, going to Antarctica was comparable to knocking on death’s door. Although he was unsuccessful in reaching his actual goal, his journey has become the stuff of legend. He and his crew are remembered not for crossing the Antarctic as they intended, but for their voyage. Shackleton put his own life in jeopardy to save others, which was an even greater act of heroism. In essence he was a hero twice over.

If there is any criticism to be made of the movie, it is only that it could have benefited from following the whole crew instead of just Shackleton. It would have been interesting to intersperse their perspective with his. I have watched this film four times over the last four years and each time, it never ceases to amaze.

Shackleton had made two prior attempts at conquering new parts of the South Pole. This was his third. Despite the fact that he failed to meet his objective on every Antarctic expedition, he is an example to people that even failure can result in fame.

In a KidSpirit Media review, young writer Uday weighs the merits of "The Endurance," a documentary about Ernest Shackleton's harrowing 1914 expedition to the Antarctic.

A Review of The Endurance

Often heroes are seen as the harbingers of crucial change in societies. While heroes may have a profound impact on society, the converse is also possible: that society alters and shapes heroes in turn.

These changes may be larger than first realized, sometimes completely morphing a hero’s core ideals into something negative. Other times, heroes are created by society, transforming their core ideals for the better.

No one can be a hero without others thinking they are — it is a status granted to the hero by the collective, an acknowledgement of their good deeds or actions. According to the Merriam Webster Online Dictionary, the very definition of a hero is “a person … who is admired for courage or noble qualities.” The word “admiration” indicates that society as a whole agrees about the hero’s status. For example, today we view firefighters, police officers, and emergency responders as heroes because they are courageous and selfless, qualities that we esteem. Courage has been an admirable characteristic throughout all of history.

There are certain qualities that make a person heroic which evolve over time, to fit the characteristics most admired by a particular culture at that moment in history. Christopher Columbus is an example of such a hero, specific to a particular culture and time, who has now has become a controversial historical figure. King Ferdinand, the Spanish monarch who funded Columbus’s explorations, viewed the venture as heroic. After his second voyage, when natives from the Caribbean Islands were transported to Spain as slaves, Columbus wrote, “Let us in the name of the Holy Trinity go on sending all the slaves that can be sold.” This ideology of slavery was also lauded by many cultures, including some of those of Europe at that time. While many believed Columbus was heroic for what he did for the ‘good of the country,’ today the idea of slavery and oppression is scorned by most cultures and societies, making Columbus a more ambiguous heroic figure.

In order to be considered a hero a person must meet all the criteria, both timeless and specific, of his or her society. If the hero fails to meet society’s changing standards, they will fall from their former echelon of prestige and respect. A historical figure whose situation exemplifies this idea was Thomas Jefferson. Jefferson was the principal author of the Declaration of Independence and in his first presidential term, he was lauded for his purchase of the Louisiana territory, upholding the American doctrine of Manifest Destiny. However, when he failed to meet the public’s expectations, and as overseas political tensions grew worse, he fell out of favor with the public. More specifically, Jefferson wanted the United States to be a neutral party in the ongoing war between Great Britain and France, and to continue trade with both countries; both Britain and France thought trading with the other was an act of war and refused to acknowledge America as a neutral party. To ease these tensions, Jefferson proposed a commercial solution, ending trade with both countries. He hoped this would give the U.S. greater leverage because of the demand for American goods, and would force countries to allow the U.S. its neutral status. However, the Embargo Act of 1807 backfired instead, eroding the US economy while doing little to chasten Great Britain and France, and Jefferson lost his popular standing. Of course, while he lost prestige in the nineteenth century, he is remembered today as one of the Founding Fathers, a great man who was influential during the country’s nascence.

"If the hero fails to meet society’s changing standards, they will fall from their former echelon of prestige and respect."

The Vietnam War, which began in 1955 and ended in 1975, demonstrates society’s fickleness about heroes on a much grander, sadder scale. While the courage of our soldiers was much admired in World War I and II, towards the later years of the Vietnam War, the public held a negative opinion of soldiers fighting that war. The public began to protest the high number of American casualties, the military draft, military abuses such as the massacre at My Lai in 1968, and the illegality of invasions by the U.S. government into neighboring countries. Vietnam veterans were shunned when they returned home — cast down from the heroic stature because of the war’s unpopularity. The admirable qualities of courage, selflessness, and patriotism were not bestowed upon the veterans of the Vietnam War until a decade later, when, in the 1980’s, the Vietnam Memorial was built to honor the fallen heroes of that war.

Sometimes a shift in societal ideals facilitates the rise of a hero, rather than causing the downfall of a current one. One example is Abraham Lincoln, whose actions drastically changed American history. Though remembered today as an abolitionist, he was not always against slavery — he refrained from supporting anti-slavery measures throughout his early life and even the beginning of his presidency. During his presidency, however, as popular views shifted and support for the Union army grew, Lincoln’s own abolitionist activity grew, until his enactment of the Emancipation Proclamation of 1863, an act that elevated him even higher in his heroic status because it made the ending of slavery one of the central goals of the north in the Civil War.

Heroes who have a great impact on their society are still influenced, to a certain degree, by the populace and social conditions around them. For example, Martin Luther King, Jr., is a hero we consider to have greatly influenced society rather than society having influenced him. Through his leadership in the civil rights movement and through his political protests, he forever altered American society. Dr. King was not immune to the influences of society around him, as he, and the civil rights movement he led, were affected by the racism and prejudice that was endemic in America at the time. He was educated at Morehouse College, during a period of separate but equal education and before schools were integrated in the south. Dr. King went on to study at Crozer Seminary and eventually earned a Ph.D. at Boston University in 1955. During his studies, King attended classes at other prestigious institutions such as the University of Pennsylvania and Harvard. The degree of pre-existing societal discrimination demonstrated in America, coupled with Dr. King’s education, helped facilitate his rise to the status of hero. His ability to motivate people to embrace the ideals he preached, and to transform society, was dictated and provided by the specific conditions of the society around him.

Heroes such as Martin Luther King, Jr. and Abraham Lincoln have had a great impact on culture and society. These are people we look up to and individuals whose values we admire. Yet, society simultaneously shapes and impacts their cause and their course. If an individual’s actions or beliefs coincide with, or exemplify, the values of a given time, society will champion that person as a hero. In this way, changes in social, political, and economic conditions, and a shift in societal views, such as those at the time of the Vietnam War, can facilitate the rise or downfall of a hero. Cultures and societies essentially determine what is heroic, and who is a hero, and thus have a profound impact on those they elevate to that status.

In a KidSpirit Big Question response, teen writer Khalid explores how heroes and their cultural contexts mutually shape and inform one another.

How Does Time Shape Our View of Heroes?

Something about artist and activist Ai Weiwei inspired me — compelled me — to travel from New York City to Washington, DC just so I could see his exhibit, Ai Weiwei: According to What?, at the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden.

If I was moved to take a three-and-half-hour train ride to see his work in person, I can only imagine the inspirational power he has over his compatriots in China, especially among youth yearning for greater freedom and opportunities for creativity.

I was introduced to Ai Weiwei’s work by chance. One Sunday afternoon in the spring of 2011, I spotted statues of the 12 animals of the zodiac in front of Manhattan’s Pulitzer Fountain. Standing 10 feet tall and lined up in in a row, they possessed a beautiful, majestic aura. Having studied Chinese, I was quite intrigued. I examined the sculptures, the mist from the fountain floating up from behind them and cooling my face. More than a year later, in the summer of 2012, I encountered the statues again, this time circling the fountain belonging to the Hirshhorn in Washington, DC. The second sighting of the exquisite bronze zodiac heads sparked an interest deep within me. Upon returning to my home in Brooklyn, I discovered that a documentary, Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry, was playing at the IFC Center, a movie theater in Greenwich Village, which shows independent, classic, and foreign films. As a teenage girl interested in film, the prospect of seeing a documentary written, directed, and filmed by a young woman, Alison Klayman, was absolutely fantastic. From then on, Ai Weiwei, his story and his art, have captivated me.

Ai Weiwei was born in Beijing in 1957. His father, Ai Qing, a prominent poet, was exiled a year later by the Communist Party for criticizing its suppression of free speech. The Ai family lived in squalid conditions, and as a young boy, Ai Weiwei had to build his own furniture, which must have helped to shape the artistic talent within him. After the end of the Cultural Revolution in 1976, the family returned to Beijing. Just five years later, Ai Weiwei decided to leave China and move to New York City, swearing never to return. On the way to the airport he told his mother, “I’m going home.” He lived in Manhattan with other young Chinese expatriates, exploring art and culture for more than a decade. Ai continuously documented both his life and those of his friends, many of whom would become prominent artists and musicians. Ai frequently photographed now renowned composer Tan Dun, filmmaker Chen Kaige, the artist Xu Bing, and also the poet Allen Ginsberg, his upstairs neighbor and a friend to both Ai Weiwei and his father. (Ginsberg and Ai Qing had met in Beijing years before.) Ai spent a lot of time in museums and was very influenced by the works of Marcel Duchamp and Andy Warhol. He also captured the happenings taking place in 1980’s New York — the lives of the homeless, park protests, and, perhaps most importantly, cultural change. These photographs are now shown in museums. They are works of art and also mark the beginning of a process that would shape Ai: the documenting of his own life and the society around him. Now, decades later, he is able to harness the tools that are provided by social media, like Twitter and YouTube, to document occurrences in China and reach a worldwide audience. It is all the more remarkable that he is able to do so in a country where the Internet is so heavily monitored.

In 1993, Ai Weiwei came back to China in order to be close to his ailing father. Although he had vowed never to return, Ai felt that in the aftermath of the Tiananmen Square protests he had to participate in whatever was going to happen in his home country. He became a part of the new underground art scene in China where he created a series of books: The Black Cover Book, The White Cover Book, and The Grey Cover Book, which contained pictures of contemporary art and photography virtually inaccessible to the public. Although he was artistically rebellious, Ai “initially behaved himself politically” (as Nicholas Kristoff describes in a New York Times article about the artist). He did not openly criticize The People’s Republic of China, and ultimately helped design the Olympic Stadium in Beijing, known as the Bird’s Nest. This project gained him international recognition. Soon, Ai stopped “behaving.” The devastating Sichuan earthquake in May 2008 sparked a desire within him to demand more government transparency and accountability. The earthquake caused more than 5,000 student deaths and the government refused to take responsibility for the badly built schools that collapsed, which have been dubbed “tofu buildings.” Ai Weiwei, followed by his film crew, investigated the wrongful deaths of the schoolchildren. He tried to interview government officials, recorded distraught parents, and took pictures of demolished school buildings next to still erect ones. Ai put his demands and observations online, using social media, and also harnessed the power of art to express the calamities of the earthquake. With the help of many volunteers, he compiled a list of the names of all the deceased children and publicized it (to see the list visit http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4IZpRHDOJpg). Ai’s increasing popularity allowed him to act on behalf of the people affected by the earthquake who were unable to do so themselves because of the dire consequences of speaking out. Using his global platform, Ai was also one of the first prominent Chinese people to denounce the Beijing Olympics. He believed that the games were not used to open up Chinese society, but rather as propaganda, hiding the real China from the world.

Ai’s international renown allows him to take a stand against what he perceives as wrongful government activities. However, his actions have not gone unpunished. In 2009, before testifying at the trial of his fellow activist Tan Zuoren, police beat him so severely that he needed emergency brain surgery and was unable to appear in court. He took this calamitous occurrence and created a work of art out of his MRI brain scan. One can literally see what is inside Ai Weiwei’s head. The piece hangs simply, with no frame or glass covering. It is a true document of the artist’s life. It serves to inform the viewer of misdeeds of the government, and yet is also interesting visually. Ai has the unique ability to make a political or social statement in an aesthetically pleasing form.

Not long after the attack, his newly built Shanghai studio, which was originally welcomed by the government, was torn down. Then one day in late March 2011, Ai was detained at the Beijing airport before he could board a plane to Hong Kong. He was held with no charge in solitary confinement. Eventually, the government stated that Ai was being detained on charges of tax evasion and distributing pornography. Throughout the world, people reacted to his imprisonment, and websites like freeaiweiwei.org/ (which now serves as an information hub) sprung up demanding his release. Eighty-one days later, Ai Weiwei was freed. He was prohibited from leaving Beijing, communicating with journalists, or using the Internet. What would this mean for his activism and outspokenness in the future? Not much time passed before he continued speaking out and inspiring others to act. Ai refuses to back down. He is not sorry for his actions — and as the title of the documentary about him states, he never will be. He will persevere through his bravery and art.

The exhibit I saw at the Hirshhorn, Ai Weiwei: According to What?, is not a tribute to Ai Weiwei, but rather his tribute to society. It is not meant to show off his work, but to inform people about Chinese, American, and human culture. In my opinion, there are three main themes recurrent in the exhibit: cultural change, the destruction of the old allowing for the creation of the new, and phenomena hidden from the people by the government.

I was drawn to pieces created using ancient pottery, which represent recreation: Han Dynasty vases dipped in neon paint, a Neolithic age vase with the Coca-Cola logo written on it in silver, and a triptych of Ai dropping a Han Dynasty Urn. At first, I was flabbergasted: how could Ai destroy such priceless artifacts? Then I realized that he did not truly destroy them, he transformed them. The ancient pottery is a symbol of the countless things torn down by the Chinese government in order to build new cities and factories. The objects now tell a story — the story of constant metamorphosis.

Coming up the escalator to the second floor of the Hirshhorn, one can see the two entrances to Ai’s exhibit. On one side, there are hundreds of photographs of the Bird’s Nest as it was being built. These pictures of the monumental structure’s creation represent the continuous change and concealment taking place in China. The stadium and the Olympic games that it has come to symbolize were used as propaganda – showing the world a spectacle while hiding poverty and destruction. On the other side, a large black and white photograph of a slightly out of focus hand with its middle finger extended in front of the White House hangs alone on a blank wall. Intrigued by this picture, I entered the gallery. On the adjacent wall there hangs a similar photograph: a middle finger in front of the Forbidden City. By visually disrespecting symbols of great power, these images suggest that the governments of both China and the United States have not changed at the same rate as the ideas of the people; or that governments have not altered in the right way.

The motif of cultural change is interspersed throughout the exhibit. It is apparent in Ai’s photographs of late 20th-century New York City and in works of art created using ancient wood and carpentry techniques. Qing Dynasty chairs reused to construct a sculpture, a five-foot-tall, three-dimensional map of China crafted from the wood of ancient temples, and a beam extracted from a temple with the map of China carved vertically through it, all represent the fact that the way of life has altered – objects are always transformed by new generations of thought. Perhaps, these three pieces express a love for China, a distaste for the destruction that the government has caused, or a statement on how Chinese factories are constantly producing and labeling new objects with three words most people know well: “Made in China.” All of these meanings are plausible; the message of Ai Weiwei’s art is often multifaceted.

The most powerful images in the exhibit are related to the Sichuan earthquake and the Chinese government’s attempts to conceal the magnitude of its destruction. A list of the names of the children killed in the earthquake lines a long, curved wall. As one looks at the thousands of small black Chinese characters, the names are said aloud. Each name is voiced by a different person; each death is made evident. The effect is haunting. The voices (belonging to readers of Ai’s blog that has since been shut down) can be heard from the lobby of the museum and also throughout parts of the exhibit. The death of the children is everywhere — itis presented in photographs taken in Sichuan province where backpacks and papers are scattered throughout the rubble; it is in a massive sculpture made of metal rods taken from collapsed buildings; it is in a long snake made of green, gray, and black backpacks that line the ceiling. The snake is attractive and fun until you realize what it signifies; perhaps that is why it is on the ceiling — you must look up before you can see it and literally change your perspective. In a sense, the snake exemplifies much of Ai Weiwei’s art in the exhibit: look around and you will see something made of practical objects that have been rendered useless, but now have meaning — a meaning that is hidden until you are enlightened, made aware of the occurrences that have taken place in the world — and finally you understand the work. The metal rods have a similar effect. They are assembled in a beautiful, yet minimalist, wave-like formation on the floor. The rods symbolize uniformity, but also the significance of the individual. I believe that each rod represents one of the children who died in the earthquake. Each has slightly different coloring and markings, yet they are all in the same state. The rods have been removed from the structures that they once supported just like the children who have been removed from this world.

Through his art and constant documentation, Ai Weiwei possesses immense power. This power is that of spreading information and expanding people’s understanding of the world. I follow Ai on Twitter, am subscribed to him on YouTube, and read the postings from his blog on sina.com that was shut down in 2009, but have since been published in book form. I have watched films about him and seen his artwork in person. But, I’m not stopping here. I will follow Ai’s story as it progresses. In April 2014, Ai Weiwei: According to What? is coming to the Brooklyn Museum, which is just blocks away from my home. I cannot wait to experience the exhibit again and wonder how I will re-interpret the works. How will my views have altered? How will the world have changed? What will Ai have to say?

All photographs by Anya Dunaif. Taken at Ai Weiwei: According to What? at the Hirshhorn Museum/Smithsonian.

In a KidSpirit Feature article, teen writer Anya delves into the life and work of Ai Weiwei, a prominent Chinese activist and artist.

Ai Weiwei: Harnessing the Power of Art and Social Media

What do you think of when you hear the word “hero”?

Maybe you think of war heroes or firemen, people who put their lives on the line regularly to help people. Maybe you think of brave civilians who rise to the occasion during a disaster or a shooting. Maybe you just think of heroes in stories: myths and legends and superheroes.

Or you think of something else entirely. Maybe you think of some goal, some ideal person, someone who you need, or someone the world needs. Maybe just someone who you want to be. What do all these things have in common? What really makes a hero?

Joseph Campbell, a well-respected researcher and author on comparative mythology, has a theory about what makes a hero. Campbell was a scholar who focused on the power of archetypes, or recurring elements in stories — both real and invented. They are common images that transcend cultures, making their way into stories from all time periods and all parts of the world. Femme Fatales are archetypal, as are Kings, to name a few. Heroes too are archetypal. Campbell had a theory about what makes a hero fit an archetype which he called “The Hero’s Journey.” The Hero’s Journey refers to the essential steps involved in becoming a hero and is extremely recurrent in literature and real life. According to Campbell, the Hero’s Journey is a basic part of the human psyche — so basic that he considered every human life to follow it to some degree. Campbell’s Hero’s Journey is a long and complex list of steps, but can be simplified to a couple of basic concepts and requirements.

The Hero’s Journey begins with the hero in question making a Departure from Normality. Going off to war, for instance, could be considered an archetypal departure. Being thrown into a dangerous situation and setting out on a mission are departures. Before this stage of the hero’s journey, a hero is generally young or inexperienced. The hero has been sheltered or cared for or has simply never encountered the dangers of the world. It is the beginning of the story. Being bitten by a radioactive spider and developing superpowers is a departure, albeit an unrealistic one. Even going off to college could be a departure. The point is that the hero sets out from his or her previous life with a goal and goes on a journey to achieve it.

The second stage of the Hero’s Journey is the Initiation stage. In this stage, the hero has usually hit some sort of obstacle before reaching his or her goal. This low point of the Hero’s Journey is a sort of “dark night of the soul” in which the hero faces inner demons. After the low point, the hero goes through an initiation, during which she or he completes a quest and experiences a personal revelation, having reached the goal of the Hero’s Journey and defeated inner demons. This “inner demon” usually takes the form of some sort of mental block that makes it hard for the hero to reach their goal. Everybody experiences self doubt at some point. The completion of a challenge that seems personal, difficult, or even impossible is a vital part of the Hero’s Journey.

The third and final stage of the Journey is the Return. The hero returns from the journey having beaten the villain or saved the princess or gotten the diploma and he or she comes back home having changed and conquered a personal problem, a demon or weakness of some sort. The person then becomes a hero. That’s it. One, two, three, hero. Anyone can do it.

But that can’t be true, can it? Is everyone who sets out to accomplish a goal really a hero? Every college application? Every first job? Every first kiss? Could everyone who has ever left home, conquered a goal that affects them personally and gone home a better person a hero? Is the average person growing up in the world the same as a superhero? Campbell claimed that the Hero’s Journey actually applies to everyday life; that simply growing up is technically a heroic feat. I’m not sure that’s all there is to it.

There is one more element in the Hero’s Journey that makes me question the idea of the everyday hero. It is not a step, like the other elements. It is a concept. The hero’s goal must be about something bigger than the hero. Campbell included this idea in his definition of the Hero’s Journey but it doesn’t seem to mesh well with the idea that everyone’s a hero. For example, imagine someone running for political office. If a person does it in order to gain personal respect and power, then they are not a hero. They can depart from normal life, face down an inner demon and return with new understanding and strength; but they are not a hero. To be a hero they need to change something, to make something better for someone else. Maybe everyone who grows up is out to change something. As I see it, this is what really makes someone a hero. It could be helping a friend or fighting for a group’s rights, or becoming a doctor to help people, but not for personal gain. And, in some highly unlikely scenario, it could even be saving the world.

In a KidSpirit Feature article, teen writer Zoe examines some of Joseph Campbell's theories about the Hero's Journey and the mythology of everyday life.

What Makes a Hero?

History is often considered “the story of great men” — that all who influence history are heroes. This idea was created in the 1840’s, by Thomas Carlyle, in his seminal work On Heroes, Hero-Worship and the Heroic in History, and has been adopted throughout the centuries.

This definition is both too broad and too narrow. The people that society deems heroic are not necessarily heroes, and to say that the universe is only affected by such quasi-heroes ignores the impact of everything else. Especially the influence of stumps.

In a remote, mosquito-ridden jungle of Indonesia, a stump stands. This stump, called Syzygium aromaticum, is also known as clove. Not many know of this tree stump, not even members of the native tribes who live in this area can identify this tree, christened “Afo” from time immemorial. This stump was once a living tree. A tree that led to the fall of the world’s first corporation: the Dutch East India Company.

The Dutch East India Company was established in 1602, when the States-General of the Netherlands granted a 21-year monopoly on trade and colonial activities in Asia, which meant that the Company had quasi-governmental powers in Asia. It could wage war, coin money, imprison and execute criminals, and establish colonies. It exceeded all its competitors in trade in the Indies, trading over 2.5 million tons of goods. These goods were not gold or silver, but cloves and other spices. In Europe at that time, because of high demand by the upper class, cloves were literally worth their weight in gold. The wealth generated from these spices allowed the Dutch East India Company to become the world’s first multinational corporation, spanning five continents. However, this success came at a price.

At the time, the Dutch East India Company was directly in competition with other European nations’ trading companies. The British and Portuguese Companies especially had the potential to steal away the Netherlands’ spice money because of their shipping infrastructure and large amount of colonies. With so many competitors looking to wrest control of the Spice Islands, the only way the Dutch East India Company could remain lucrative was if they had a monopoly on the spice trade. The Company limited the amount of cloves that could be sold to 8,000 tons a year, to artificially inflate their value, dumping the remainder into the sea. In other words, just like modern-day companies, the Dutch East India Company was price gouging.

The Company was ruthless, forcing their way into Indonesia through slaughter. Colonialists invaded Banda Islands, a trading hub that, until the 19th century, was the only source of nutmeg tree bark. One hundred Dutch settlers killed the entire native adult male population, selling the remainder of the population into slavery. On Afo’s island, Ternate, the Dutch used their economic power of trade to force an uneasy peace with the sultanate.

Unlike Banda Islands’ nutmeg, though, cloves could grow in other areas of the world. In order to maintain their monopoly, the Dutch adopted a policy known as extirpatie: the destruction of all clove plants outside of Dutch holdings. Anyone found with unauthorized clove trees faced the penalty of death.

As a result, all clove trees were chopped down, destroyed so nothing could break the Dutch monopoly. All besides Afo. Against all odds, Afo survived.

In 1770, someone by the codename “Poivre” (French for “pepper”) smuggled Afo’s seedlings to Zanzibar. Zanzibar became the number one producer of cloves in the world, having also enslaved and impoverished much of its population in a desperate quest for higher clove profits, much like what had occurred in the Indies. This broke the Dutch monopoly and increased competition in the markets. Soon after, the Dutch East India Company rolled up the sails of their ships, declaring bankruptcy. Afo itself was chopped down, as firewood in the present became more valuable than spice money in the future. The spice trade in the Indies was officially over. Not a general or a king, but a tree, caused the fall of the world’s first corporation. However, using Carlyle’s definition of a hero, Afo is not a hero.

Even the people who society views as “heroes” are often not. They are oversimplified into a positive character archetype, disregarding all facts to the contrary. For example, Sun Yat-sen is often thought of as the father of China by both Nationalists and Communists, after the fall of the dynastic system. He led the revolution by introducing the idea of republican government to China, which emphasized democracy, nationalism, and the people’s livelihood; bringing China to the same level of political modernism as Europe and America. On January 1st, 1912, Sun Yat-sen was elected president by the Chinese people.

However, with Sun Yat-sen’s meteoric rise, there was inevitably a fall. Yuan Shih-Kai, a rival party’s general, staged a coup, removing Sun Yat-sen and his party, the Guamingdongs, from power. Yuan Shih-Kai then seized the presidency, ruling as dictator. As a result, China shattered into small holdings controlled by warlords. Sun Yat-sen fled to Canton (now Guangzhou) after he was forced into exile.

Following the failure of Sun Yat-sen and the 1911 Nationalist Revolution’s attempt to establish a modern democracy in China, many people were angered at the government’s inaction and lack of improvement. When Germany’s holdings in China were given to Japan in the Treaty of Versailles, the Chinese people retaliated through a massive protest, known as the May 4th Movement. These protesters blamed China’s sluggishness in adopting Western philosophies of equality and democracy for China’s famine, instability, and subordinate international position. They wished to create a European-style social order. In the end, China had mistaken one bloated, ineffective, and dictatorial system of governance for a “hero” who in reality was just another bloated, ineffective, and dictatorial leader. The Nationalist Revolution was only a revolution in that China moved in a 360-degree circle back to where it began.

Again, using Carlyle’s definition, infamous leaders, such as Sun Yat-sen, are heroes in that they created a historical narrative. Carlyle’s characterization of a hero lumps despotic leaders into the category of “hero” while ignoring actual heroes. The main problem with “heroism” is that there is no heroic threshold someone needs to exceed to qualify as a hero, nor is there any guarantee of heroic behavior when someone is labeled a “hero.” Heroism is essentially meaningless.

Yet the idea of the “hero,” a true hero, remains relevant. The mere mention of “hero” draws almost 20 million results on Google, but arguably, none of them are true heroes. A truly great hero is not a bastion of pure, fundamental goodness towards one group, or a harbinger of improvements for one faction at the detriment of another. A real hero is someone who creates a universally positive change in all of human society. Such a person has never once stepped on the earth. Carlyle’s heroes are not true heroes, and neither are the people anyone heroizes.

The person an individual believes to be his or her hero says more about that person than the supposed hero. Carlyle’s list of heroes reflects his belief that strong leadership was necessary to the creation of the ideal state. I believe Afo to be a hero because Afo inadvertently toppled a brutal and repressive colonial regime bloodlessly, which demonstrates the high value I place on freedom and my love of the “unwilling savior” archetype. The list of my heroes and Carlyle’s heroes seldom overlap. While historically, there are no universal heroes, the title of “hero” is still pertinent because the actions of the people we believe to be heroes shape who we are. In other words, we create our own heroes, and in the process, we create ourselves.

In a KidSpirit Feature article, teen writer Opal uses a tree stump named Afo and Chinese leader Sun Yat-sen as case studies to critique Thomas Carlyle's theories about the nature of heroes.

How One Tree Lead to the Fall of the First Corporation

Simone Britto

Brave civilians. Firemen. Ai Weiwei.  Ernest Shackleton. You.  Which of these people is a hero?  In this issue of KidSpirit, our increasingly global community of contributors examine the heroic in disparate times and places.

The Heroic Spirit Group Guide

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