Ever wonder why the allure of being a hero doesn't sit well with everyone? I don't mean in a comic book sense where capes and superpowers come into play. I'm talking about the modern-day expectation that every individual must rise to the occasion and save the day. The pressure is omnipresent, pressing down on us all, regardless of who we are. From young millennials in downtown offices to seasoned workers in rural townships, and at any point in life - this expectation to step up saturates our society. But here’s the kicker: I don’t want to be a hero, and dare I say, many others feel the same way.
Why, you ask? Well, let’s break it down, shall we? First off, the burden of social expectations looms like a shadow. For instance, everyone’s supposed to always care about every single issue under the sun. It’s exhausting! Let’s not pretend we have the bandwidth to fix every problem humanity faces. The moment you decide you don’t want to take up the proverbial swords against societal wrongs, someone’s bound to label you a villainous non-caring villain. It’s an all or nothing game, and frankly, being a hero isn’t as shiny or fun as it sounds.
There's this unspoken rule that playing the hero gives you a platform to shove opinions down others’ throats. Do something heroic, and suddenly, people are listening. But what if I don’t want to engage in endless debates, protest every cause, or wear a badge of righteousness? There’s a simple fact: not everyone wants to be in the limelight, and that’s not negativity. It’s pragmatism. I’m not interested in shifting every heart and mind out there.
And why should I be? In the grand scheme of things, my viewpoint is one fish in an ocean. Remember, there’s a certain peace in embracing individuality over mass heroics. Sure, we live in a world that glorifies those who “make a difference,” but let’s contemplate the cost. The burnout, the criticism, and the impossible standards can shatter the steeliest of resolves. And for what? A moment of glory that’s inevitably overshadowed by the next scandal or trending issue.
Look, if you want to be a hero, be my guest, but understand that it’s not everyone’s ball game. Here's the scenario: you try to be the hero, and society puts you on a pedestal. High above, you’re watched keenly; people are hoping for your grand misstep. It’s ironic, isn’t it? The paradox of heroism—it’s never enough. Always competing with itself. Each heroic deed quickly morphs into a stepping stone for the next, more challenging one. It’s a race that has no finish line.
Now let’s address the misconception of heroism as a prerequisite for being a decent human being. Decency and heroism aren’t bedfellows. Being decent should never be confused with needing to participate in all or any battles. Greatness comes in the small, quiet moments too. Holding a door open, listening without judgment, or supporting family in times of need—all of which are far removed from the grandiosity of a hero’s gallantry.
If you question where this fits into the classic American spirit of individualism, I'll paint you a picture. True individualism isn't in evoking grand changes just to prove you can. It’s in choosing truth, personal integrity, and finding a life path of one’s choice, not one dictated by grandstanding self-righteousness.
Here’s a thought: life isn’t about crossing finish lines first—it’s about running your race in your way. Let’s appreciate that everyone’s got the right to live theirs without the obligatory fanfare of heroism.
Spare me the illusion of heroics. It’s akin to participating in a theater, applauded one moment and forgotten the next, until a new hero emerges to take center stage. Perhaps it’s not about disapproving of those who seek transformation but about valuing those who embrace their ordinary roles too. We shouldn't forget the simple power in the right to live unassumingly, free from those forced caricatures of heroism.
So I step back and challenge the notion—I'm not apathetic. I’m realistic. Let’s create room to acknowledge each personal path chosen. Be it heroism or the ordinary, both have their own courage and narrative. Because, after all, imperfection—not heroism—is indeed the hallmark of humanity.