Candace ValenzuelaVerified account

I grew up reading comic books. X-Men, Spiderman, and the Archie-verse comprising the bulk. I was moved by the themes of heroism kindness, generosity, and humor, but very few of the stories centered on an experience that looked like mine. (2/x)

One day my 4 y.o. tried to flatten his hair because someone told him that straight hair was better, so he didn't want curls anymore. I reminded him that when Miles Morales takes off his Spiderman costume, his hair looks a lot like his. He smiled and left his hair alone. (3/x)

Today he started listening to a book about Miles Morales. Miles' parents made a couple of offhand comments about Miles wetting the bed as a little kid. The comment, probably intended to make preteens relate to the embarrassment, made my 4 y.o. feel heard. (4/x)

Because of the human-ness of Miles Morales, my baby feels like he can be a super hero. My Black, Latino, Czech pre-schooler has a hero who is awkward and smart and human and brown, and I cannot tell you how much it means to me. (5/x)

Maybe he'd be able to relate to super heroes the way I did, by primarily admiring their personalities and values, but those things don't always penetrate as deeply as experience. I'd never be an anyman from Kansas or a Billionaire vigilante. I could be heroic, but no hero. (6/x)

For me, the relationship with my heroes was always one-way: I could try to emulate the characters, but there was little affirmation of who I was. There was never a direct path to greatness, just a possible supporting role if I were lucky and attractive and not too smart. (7/x)