Heroes and Role Models
by Katrina Martin
This month's theme is "heroes" and I wanted to find out who the writers and artists who contribute to and read Mosaic Minds look up to. Here are their responses.
One of my heroes is Frida Kahlo. Frida faced so many challenges and setbacks in her life and she rose above them. She created for herself, not for fame. She was messy and colorful and lived life fully. She kept journals where she proclaimed her love, her hurt, her feelings. She didn't hold back. I admire her because she was truly herself.
--Penelope, staff illustrator
Her name was Amanda Davis, a young writer/professor/encourager of writers and artists, and she was on the brink of career success. She died a year ago in a plane crash while traveling on her first book publicity tour. Her father, a doctor, was piloting the plane. Her mother was also along for the experience. Sadly all three died.
Anyway, one day I found a link to an on-line memorial for Amanda--whom I had never heard of before--and I was immediately drawn to the incredible things her friends and family were saying about her. Here is the link: Amanda Davis.
I felt immediately that here was a soul whose death truly diminished me (remember John Donne's line, "any man's death diminishes me because I am involved in Mankind"). Imagine how incredibly sad her friends and remaining family, who actually knew her in real life, must feel.
I walked away from my posthumous encounter with Amanda Davis's character thinking, "I have no excuse for not writing!" I still have life, and breath and a mind/life that can be challenged to be more like her.
--Beth Glash
Parents are my heros--most specially, my own. It sounds trite and cliche but when I look at what it took to raise me and my siblings, I am just so proud of them. They were never judgemental about our hopes and our dreams and always inspired us to reach for the sky and be whatever we wanted to be. They always promised to help and support us along the way. Inspiring little people and helping them grow is the most courageous task you will have in your life, whether it is as a parent, a teacher, a relative or even a friend. Anyone who
has tried to be a good parent is very brave.
--Abigail Vint, travel editor
To me a hero is somebody who possesses the frame of mind and attitude that I would love to have myself. Somebody courageous who would dare the things I don't dare. So who is a hero to me? Outside of my home where my boyfriend is my hero--he does the most scary things like mopping the windows and wrestling that roaring machine called a vacuum cleaner--a man named Ricardo is my hero.
I met Ricardo when I was in Venezuela with my boyfriend. Ricardo was our tour guide for the "Gran Sabana" (Great Savannah). He was Venezuelan but had studied and lived in the U.S. for a long time. Thanks to him we got to have an amazing look at the Amazon. Ricardo's knowledge of the environment and nature was admirable and the way he talked about it made me want to absorb every little detail. Because he was a good storyteller, our surroundings seemed to come alive with his stories.
Through his spiritual stories, I suddenly realized how detached I was from the earth itself, that I had no idea where things in nature and life itself originated from. He reminded me of a lone ranger because he enjoyed being alone with his thoughts. But what made Ricardo my true hero is that he not always had been this "lone ranger." He used to have a wealthy lifestyle that I would die for. If he craved a certain fish, he'd just fly himself and his girlfriend to Canada where they could have this fish for lunch. His job earned him money, and therefore prestige, and he thought this was the life he wanted. Isn't that what everybody else wants, after all?
After a certain devastating event in his 30s, he told us, he woke up knowing that was not the life he wanted. All of a sudden the glamour and glitter became facades and distractions to him. He left a multi-million dollar firm, which he owned, and started a new and simple life in his homeland, Venezuela.
He spent much of his time outdoors, studying nature and everything else visible and invisible. The beauty he saw there was worth sharing. I guess one of his new goals was to say goodbye to a material lifestyle and live a life full of spirituality. Eventually, along with his younger brother and a friend, he decided to organize tours in the savannah and plains of Venezuela. This way he could earn enough money to take care of himself, meet people from all over the world, share nature, stories and experiences with them and still have enough time to think.
Ricardo possesses the mind and attitude that I would love to have myself. I can only hope that one day I will have his courage to say goodbye to a material life, become dedicated to spirituality and find my own answers. If only I would dare.
--Songul Arslan
I have been very influenced by a number of people after the age of 18. Before 18, I mostly repeated stuff I read and pretended I knew it all. My first influences were my grandparents. Four adults bound to each other by gossamer threads. All four unique in their own right.
My paternal grandfather I shall always remember as a loving, jovial, cuddly darling. He was always smiling, even when my father would bully him and scold him because he cheated on the diet he was supposed to follow. He loved food and was proud of it. He had stories, jokes, tricks, and loved to dole them out. He was the one grandparent who always had time for us. While he was alive, I was shy around him and never had the time for him.
My paternal grandmother--the first of my grandparents to die--was an intensely private person. I like to think I get my need for privacy from her. She was always lost in thoughts. She had two passions in life: horses and cards. The former she could not indulge in since she my grandfather was not a rich man, but the latter was a bargaining tool for her. She was a mathematics whiz. She would help us out with our math homework and problems, provided we would play cards with her. She always drove home a good bargain when it came to cards. I could have known her better had I been older. I was however a young fool and I detested math then and I avoided her ploys since she always won at cards. I never had the time to play cards with her.
My maternal grandfather was a very interesting and, in my opinion, contradictory person. Maybe my siblings and cousins would think differently. I have always been intrigued by him because he wore a lot of hats at the same time and wore them well. He was short, very quiet and always calm and collected. I never saw him lose his temper. Never. And that scared me. He was always in control and people looked up to him, naturally. He was a doctor by profession, a Gandhian freedom fighter (in the days when India was a British colony), for a brief period of time a politician, a social worker till the end of his days and all the while he ran his own business. I could never understand how nana managed to get so much done and not fly into a tizzy or rage when things wouldn't go right. He was almost Zen in his attitude, and come to think of it, he did look somewhat like the Buddha. He was the last of my grandparents to die and I was there by his bedside when he did. I think I was the second grandchild who managed to make it to his deathbed in time. He was the only grandparent I saw one last time and said goodbye to. When I saw him in the CPU, I wanted to bawl and cry. The man who was always known to be a pillar of strength looked helpless and fragile and had a million tubes plugged into him. He recognized me though and grasped my hand tightly.
My maternal grandmother was my favorite grandparent. She was also the original drama queen. So we all know where my genes come from. She made every grandchild feel special. She had a fiery temper and a sharp tongue that could be controlled by no man, not even by her husband. She was a very strong woman and a very entertaining one too. She was sharp, inventive and controlling. She hated to see people not toeing the line. All my cousins and my sister and brother and I were bullied into our best behavior whenever she was around. She was always dressed very neatly and I don't remember her without matching jewelry. She played lady of the manor to perfection. She was the moral (she wasn't "moral" actually, she allowed a lot of leeway, but her sense of justice was always very out of proportion) guardian of the village my grandparents lived in. She was the lady protectress, the benefactress and woe befall anyone who wouldn't behave in the proper manner with her. I think she scared people into submission. What I never realized was that it was love that she felt and I was always embarrassed with my grandmom. She had fantastic stories that I would cringe to hear because they were all so exaggerated. Despite her drama, my grandmother was a fun person.
These four people are my first influences and heroes, though it has taken me a long 27 years to realize it and while they were alive, I had no time for them.
Plumpernickel at Baker's Dozen