After much begging and pleading, I finally set aside some time to sit with my older kids (ages 9, 10 and 12) to watch “Spider-man: Into the Spider-verse.” My kids have raved about this movie since they first watched it with my husband in the theatre, but I just hadn’t had a chance to see it for myself. I like superheroes and all, but I wasn’t sure how well a cartoon would hold my attention.
My 12-year-old son (adopted from West Africa) was especially adamant that I needed to watch this. He loved it. It resonated. As we watched it together, it wasn’t hard to see why.
Loving and mildly overbearing parents? Check.
Feeling out of place at times? Check.
Wanting something special out of your life? Check.
Wrestling with your identity? Check.
Since this son of mine was a toddler, he has loved Spiderman. Whatever other heroes we introduced, Spiderman was his favorite. He would bounce from couch to couch, shooting pretend webs. I once thought he was raising his hands in worship at church until I realized he was shooting invisible webs up towards his friends in the balcony. Something about that character has always had a special appeal for him.
So I could see why he loved this movie, but it wasn’t until I heard this Miles Morales line at the very end of the movie that the full emotional weight hit me:
“Anyone can wear the mask. You could wear the mask. If you didn’t know that before, I hope you do now.”
That got full tears down the cheeks from me. Well, let me be honest. I was already a bit weepy shortly before that at the scene of the Peter Parker Spiderman showing up at Mary Jane’s door with flowers. That’ll get you right in the feels. So I may have already been a little emotionally primed for a strong feeling when Miles Morales makes plain what my son has known since he was three. He can wear the mask.
As confident as my son has always been about that fact, it means something to see a kid up on that screen who looks like you doing what you’ve only seen Tobey Maguire do or Tom Holland do. To see yourself existing up on that screen along with the classic versions of Spiderman is validating to what he’s always known– that he can be a hero too.
I’d like to think that this shouldn’t be such a big deal. Of course you can pretend to be a pretend character. That should be obvious. But I remember how I felt when I watched “Wonder Woman” a couple years ago and I’m a very grown adult.
Wonder Woman was (in theory) written for girls like me. I remember watching reruns of Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman back when I was a kid. But the truth is, she didn’t resonate for me. She felt like all Wonder and not so much Woman.
This current version feels like the first time I’ve seen a female superhero that is motivated by what motivates me. She wants justice. She also wants to smile at babies and eat an ice-cream cone. She isn’t trying to be a man and she isn’t trying to be a hyper sexualized version of a powerful woman. She’s just being a woman like my mom and my sisters and my friends. We may not have super powers, but we are motivated by the same love of people and peace and we’re willing to do super things to do what’s right. Wonder Woman was taking risks in order to do what’s best, sometimes in the small scale acts of heroism and sometimes she’s concerned about the fate of the world. Women can be like that. We can be idealistic and brave and compassionate and purposeful. To see a female superhero who sacrificed none of her femininity (and I mean the full scope of her femininity, not just the fancy, frilly, girly parts) in pursuit of justice. . . it made me literally cry in the theatre.
So I get it. I get why my son loves the Miles Morales version of Spiderman. He isn’t a sidekick. He doesn’t feel awkwardly placed there to try and represent “diversity.” He isn’t overly simplified or stereotypical. He is just a hero. Just like my son. Scared, but brave. Idealistic and confused. Working to establish his identity in the face of social pressures with the support and love of his family. It isn’t just that representation on the screen matters so that kids can see themselves in their heroes, it’s that it needs to be representation that feels accurate to their life experiences. Lynda Carter never made me cry. Black Widow (even with a compelling infertility storyline) never moved me. But Wonder Woman as a woman with the same motivations as the women I know? That’s powerful.
We need these representations for our girls and our boys, black and white and brown. My boys need to see strong, tender, authentic women saving the world. My white kids need to see Black Panther fighting for honor and truth and family. It isn’t just about representation so our kids see representations of themselves, but about allowing them to see all kinds of people doing what’s right and brave and self-sacrificing.
We need Miles Morales to be right. Anyone can wear the mask. If you didn’t know that before, I hope you do now.