Oh, my. I woke up today with this idea in my head that I want to be your hero, and it won’t let go. Yesterday I was writing a blog entitled “Give Me a Compliment,” and part way through it became the question “Who Says ‘I Love You’ First?” For me, writing is like living each day. I usually know where I want to go, but discover my path as I proceed along the way. There is no GPS. I wander all over the map. But it has always been an interesting journey.
Do I want you to reply to this blog and say, “Alan, you are my hero”?
That would be nice, especially if you give a reason or two, but that is not my primary focus. I want to urge you to jot down the names of a few of your heroes and let them know by telling them today, in writing or out loud, “You are my hero.”
I shared this idea with a friend, who a few minutes ago emailed me to say, “In total frankness, you are my hero, maybe my super hero. You have opened up a life and worlds unknown to me before.” My friend’s email touched me deeply and reaffirmed within me the importance of being valued.
And don’t we all need to have people believe in us? Don’t we all need to feel valued? And shouldn’t we tell each other exactly that, in a direct and unmistakable way?
Your hero could be a teacher or a parent, a friend or an acquaintance. It could be Jason at the telephone company who spent hours recently solving a problem for my wife.
Is the word “hero” too strong? I don’t think so.
Mrs. Agulia, who taught me Latin in High School, is my hero. She taught me that I didn’t control the world, after I blurted out in class the “suggestion” that she had to raise my grade. She said, “Alan, I don’t have to do anything.”
Mr. L. Day Hanks, my speech coach in high school, is my hero because he taught me how to express myself, and insisted that I speak to his home room about school events, after he discovered I had chickened out and failed to speak as scheduled in other home rooms.
Each of my nine children is my hero, because each is well-educated, has overcome obstacles, and is making his or her own way through a separate life. I hope I have the courage to tell each of them exactly that in person when next we meet.
And it does take courage. Daveen and I are treating one of our adult sons to dinner tonight for his birthday. Like each of us, he has life challenges, but he is dealing with them in a thoughtful, energetic, and diligent way.
When I say at dinner tonight, “Craig, you are my hero,” he might smile, perhaps tentatively, and say, “Thanks, Dad. What do you mean by that?” And then I’ll have to explain. I’ll improvise. I hope I do it right. (His response was better than I could have imagined.)
Perhaps I will call my daughter Jill today, and tell her she is my hero because she has raised three wonderful children under difficult circumstances and because, after working for others, she is now establishing her own law practice.
Perhaps I will email my son Steven who, after dropping out of college twice, now has six university degrees and is a professor in the USC medical school.
When Alexis, who lives with us, is up and about, I may tell her that she is my hero because she has Lupus, is three months into chemotherapy, tired much of the time, yet perseveres in her job of helping immeasurably in youth philanthropy.
And to my friend who emailed to me this morning, you are my hero, only partly because you let me know that I am yours.
Please identify and tell at least one of your personal heroes today, right out loud or in writing, “You are my hero.” And tell them specifically why. Don’t be afraid. They may respond badly. Heroes may do that. One of my all-time writing heroes is Ray Bradbury. Once I approached him and said, “Mr. Bradbury, I have enjoyed your writing for more than twenty years.” He harrumphed back, “Hmpf. I’ve been writing for a lot longer than that.” I guess he was having a bad day. Heroes have bad days. He’s still my hero.
And I want you to know that you are a hero. You are reading this blog and trying to build a better life for yourself and for those you love. For that reason alone you deserve my tribute. You are my hero.
Alan