There comes a time, profound or not, when we are unexpectedly failed by people we trust. Probably multiple times. Parents miss soccer games. Teachers reveal their ignorance. Politicians lie. And we are left failed and disappointed.
So what is there to do? We are living in a tumultuous historical moment in which the global public feels and vocalizes the ways they have been disappointed by leaders and public servants daily. It feels terrible to read the newspaper each morning, catch a CNN update on our phones, or read an email revealing how the person we voted for, volunteered for, worked for, trusted, has failed and disappointed us. Though we may be perfectly capable of being there for ourselves because we are independent and strong, it somehow weakens our being entirely when the leader we trust proves they are human.
So what do we do in these moments? What do we do when we discover that our leaders, role models and heroes turn out to be human, too? An even greater challenge— what do we do when we figure out that when we, too, are someone’s failing hero?
I don’t have the answer. I probably don’t even have the best coping mechanism. But I am certain that the answer is not to give up on our heroes. To give up on out heroes each time they fail us and lose trust in something greater only proves our own weakness. We need other people (and people often need gods) because we can never be enough on our own. We are incomplete, made for community, existing to serve and be served, and our strength comes in our ability to recognize that truth and place our trust in people that are deserving of it most of the time.
But then comes the day when we wake up to a reality different from the one we had imagined for ourselves. A reality plagued by failing leaders. What are we to do when no one seems worthy of our trust? How do we know when to abandon our heroes or find another one?
No one is worth abandoning. I have been failed by myself more often than I have been failed by anyone else and the only thing that keeps me rising each morning is the mere fact that one person still believes in me— even if that one person is myself. Our heroes need us. Our bosses need us. Our friends and teachers and coaches and politicians and news broadcasters and journalists and authors and activists need us just as much as we need them. Our heroes go out and make the big moves, strive for the right thing, because they know that you got up and believed in them, that you are waiting on the sideline or in the trenches cheering for them to succeed.
We can’t give up on our heroes because they are human, too. When we need them the most, they need us the most. When they are failing, they need a hand up. No one climbed the mountain alone, so when the images of our heroes become fatally damaged because they failed, disappointed, or hurt us, it is then when we discover how to be the hero everyone else needs.
