I Can Be A Superman

• Whittaker Polkinghorne , Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2018

I can be a Superman.

I stand in a world of darkness, holding up a shunned and faded banner that was once a symbol of pride and power. I stand with my broken sword and battered shield, fighting for the bit of fleeting light that we have left.

Im Whittaker, and I'm proud to call myself a man. Though it seems that today being a man is a crime punishable by death and that expressing masculinity is a sin to God himself. I feel like the great Atlas, stronger then anyone but cursed to carry it as a burden. I feel like Hercules, So strong that people fear me and I feel like Samson, The source of my strength being taken away from me little by little. These powerful figures, these Supermen who embody power and manhood and strength above all else are forgotten, their murals smashed and their names shamed. Why? Because their men.

The Knights in Shining armour fighting for the safety of princesses and townspeople. Fighting for king and country, Standing in suites of silver and wielding their swords of light they charged into battle against unstoppable odds. But now their chivalry and courage and sacrifice is forgotten, their armour melted and there blades shattered. Why? Because they we’re men.

Me as a young boy in school, I was put-down by those who are supposed to teach me. I feel pubescent mood swings and I'm put on a pill, I act rambunctiously and They send me to therapy sessions where I get told that there is something wrong with me. Women think that men have been in control, Truth is we can hardly control ourselves. But that doesn't mean we’re evil, sexist, rapists or criminals. Where just men striving to be the best we can, we’re just striving to be Hercules and Atlas and Samson. We’re striving to be Superman.

Whittaker. John. Polkinghorne