Always Looking for a Hero

As many have heard at this point, The New York Times published a years-long investigation into allegations of Cesar Chavez sexually abusing young girls. In addition, Dolores Huerta issued a statement that Chavez sexually assaulted her on two different occasions.

This is a devastating revelation for so many people. I am grieving for the girls and women who were abused, and the decades they held this trauma while the world idolized their abuser. I am grieving for countless folks who have been inspired by Chavez to struggle for justice and are now left wondering who they can trust. I am grieving that stories of powerful men taking advantage of women are so familiar.

While I spent the past few days reflecting on this story, I noticed my strong inclination toward finding a different hero. Who else represents Mexican-Americans, advocated for the dignity of farmers and laborers, and possesses a character worthy of admiration? My kids are about to be on school holiday for “Chavez-Huerta Day,” so my internal dialogue immediately fired off, “Let’s just focus twice as hard on Dolores Huerta and place her on every pedestal we had Chavez on!”

But, then I started wondering, why are we always looking for a hero?

I understand the impulse - we want people to look up to, to prove a better world is possible, and to model the kind of life we desire. We are storytelling creatures who want to know people can “ascend to greatness.” There’s a reason for the massive superhero genre today: we love a good hero story!

But this impulse can be dangerous, too. Heroism can pave a way for abusive power. We set out to create a hero, but then we create an idol instead. And when we idolize an individual, we may find ourselves looking the other way when we discover their corruption.

What if we opted to forgo the heroism quest and honored the regular folks who live with integrity and a commitment to justice? What if we held up entire communities who work together to protect human dignity, instead of just their leaders? What if we hosted a public discourse about the careful, slow work of Spiritual formation that refuses to pursue justice without living justly?

This quote from the NYT article sticks with me:

“In the end, they said that the story of Chavez’s movement was their story, too — of the women who marched beside the men, worked in the fields, took care of the children. The movement, they said, was more than one man.”

Any movement worthy of recognition is more than one person. Communities founded upon truth, justice, and love deserve our honor, more than any one individual. So, while the topic of leadership, abuse, truth-telling, and idolization is on our minds, we should also reflect on our craving for a hero. Perhaps this is a disordered desire.

I will continue to grieve this disturbing revelation about Cesar Chavez, but I don’t think the answer is a different hero. Instead, we can all renew our collective commitment to justice, human dignity, protecting children from abuse, telling the truth about complex and broken figures, and imagining a world where these stories are nonexistent.