Heroes are Vapors

I was thinking this before the Michael Phelps incident. It was more with respect to President Obama and how over the last few years, being black has become more acceptable. Halle Berry, Denzel Washington, even the reinvention of Will Smith, the expansion of Jada Pinkett Smith, Whoopi Goldberg on The View, and the myriad of African-Americans who are coming to the forefront in media.

They are our new heroes.

But I didn't want to start out that way and make it a race-thing, because it so isn't a race-thing.

It is human nature.

Ok, a little theology here. They lauded Jesus, hinged on his every word. Came to hear him even without the promise of food. They laid palm branches at his feet one week. And they crucified him the next.

So, Michael Phelps is caught photographed with a bong. And he has the integrity (yes, I said integrity) to admit it was him with a real bong (and, I guess, real marijuana...). Suddenly, this young man, who we already know has some developmental/health issues (whatever) and has faced challenges in his life, but has, with the support of his mother, risen to iconic status by winning eight gold medals, is a cheat. He is a bad influence. So, he can't hang out with Tony the Tiger anymore. He is too human to represent America's youth as a flawed hero, but very human enough to represent us with eight gold medals.

Making it more plain: while less than 10% of people will ever participate in the Olympics or win a gold medal, millions smoke or have smoked pot.

I do not justify Phelps' actions. I don't agree with smoking pot recreationally. My problem is that there are many more people out there who have done worse. And have been punished less.

What will this mean for President Obama? While he is hoisted on the shoulders of the world right now, will his star fall from the sky if he makes an unpopular decision? If he sends a Blackberry message that leaks out? Or, God forbid, if he steps out on his wife?

Our heroes pay a huge price for our loyalty. And we pay the price for it as well.

I suggest we reach a little closer to home for our prized possessions. Like the mom who attended Bethune Cookman College while Mrs. Bethune was alive. Or the father who bowled with the Gordy family or assisted the preacher who spread Pentecostalism through Canada. Or the aunt who researched and wrote about the Afro-Canadian church. The cousin who meticulously researches the family past back three and four generations.

Or, for the next generation, the mom who goes back to school and works hard to get her graduate degree so her sons will understand perserverance.

These are our heroes. They make mistakes, but they enrich our lives.