All heroes fall in the end
I’ve spent more than a reasonable amount of time figuring out how to feel and move past the news concerning my one-time literary hero, Neil Gaiman. After a serious back and forth in my mind I arrived at the station marked, “All heroes fall in the end“. This might not be the final destination of my thought but it is probably quite close.
People are flawed at best and broken at worst. While this particular failure hurts more than most I don’t think the human called Neil is where my focus should be. Instead, there are lessons the wise might learn. Chief of those lessons is that we men have much to learn as a group. Our attitudes and assumptions are still not good enough. I have few doubts that Gaiman truly believes he – an advocate of keeping women safe – did nothing wrong. But he did. The way he saw events differs from the way others experienced them. He admits to breaking hearts; of using other humans for himself. Is that good enough? No, I don’t think it is. People are not toys is easy to say; it is far harder to use people when you are in need. That is no excuse; there is never an excuse for hurting others. But as to what happened I don’t know and might never know. Knowing is not my job.
What I can tell you is that there exists a group of women who are hurting and Gaiman is a significant part of the reason. They deserve our belief, our support, and whatever space they need. They do not need my hot take on the matter. Nor is my judgement of truth and facts required. To put it mildly, bad things happened which we are only now hearing about. A hero of ours has fallen. Heroes fall. It happens all the time.
In the future, I shall be even more careful to avoid setting frail and faulty humans to heights they will only fall from. It is clear from the conversations going on that I am not alone in feeling disappointed and let down by someone I admire. Was that admiration misplaced? A little bit yes; a little bit no. Yes, for his a talented writer; no, because that did not qualify him to speak for cultures we are both a part of. None of which negates the pain we feel.
Many of us are wrestling with the question of if we can or should separate the art from the artist. If we can or should separate what that art meant for many of us from this news. For better or for worse, Gainman’s art and celebrity form part of who I am. There are few influences that participated in forming more core self (at least willingly). This is why the news hurts so much. It is like part of me died. That death must be properly mourned and laid to rest. A process which needs time and reflection. Maybe the full truth will come out and we will have clarity on the details. Maybe not. We are not owed that. What we are owed we owe to ourselves – time to process our grief.
Perhaps, in time, we can explore lessons learned. Not right now though. Not for the fans and admirers who feel hurt. And while our rage and pain are so raw, we owe it to ourselves and our community to not channel that into hate. Instead, we will struggle until the pain fades or we find some positive outlet for it.
If we take anything away from all this perhaps it should be not to assume. Not to assume consent, not to assume sainthood, not to assume perfection. We are all a little broken. We are all a little blind. Do yourself and others a kindness and assume less and ask more. We, like Gaiman, need to learn this lesson more fully. Other people are not toys; show others love, respect, and as much kindness as we can muster. It is easy to say and harder to do. We can, however, try. Let us be better today than we were yesterday.
Today we are hurting.
A hero has fallen as all heroes must.
I know, I'm the one holding myself back. I'm the one putting on ridiculous high expectations. I'm the one always feeling like I need to do my best. It's practically my standard response to folks. "Thanks, I'll do my best." But then, when I can't seem to manage to achieve, when I can't seem to reach the high set goals I put on myself, I get disappointed. I get angry with myself, because obviously I'm not good enough and I've not tried my best at all.
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