Spider- man sits at The Back Row

Every boy dreams of being the spider-man, the savior of the world.

Maybe they are only the boys on the other side of the Pacific Ocean. On our real land, in this

continent, they are the boys invisible on the back rows.

In China, Spiderman equals “loser” in school. I remembered in my school days, there were bunch

of Spidies. They dressed very funky, smoking, chasing girls around, and dreaming of being

superhero to save the world from the evil and do justice for the weak. Those bad things included

fighting for their dudes to blood, or climbing over a high wall to trespass other’s house…They

broke rules everywhere. They took knives sometimes, since they did not own the magic to shoo

the genetic fiber. They need some weapons to make the justice.

They were the boys from working-class family or from the presents’ family on the skirt of the city.

Actually they were living like orphans. Their parents were too busy working as bees over night

shifts in the state-own factories. Some of them were not in town. So the Spidies were living with

grandma or sort of aunt as Peter Parker lives with aunt May. And their patrons were often absent

from every Parents’ meeting in Schools. That is a huge event, at which teachers won’t give up any

chance to count down every bad things they’ve done and to notify in public every poor score

they achieved in final exams.

Most of time, they occupied the last couple of rows, loosen in the seat, sleeping behind the

textbooks… superhero daydreaming with saliva running down over the corner of the mouth.

No wonder, they were always occupied the bottom of our score roll. It must be cruel for them to

struggle in the score-conquers-all schools.

Surely, I knew those Spidermen. I was such a good influence, and like a martyr, I was often

assigned to sit next to them, or in front of them or behind of them, to motivate them to grow up

in a good way. Sometimes, I was assigned to go to their parents when they “borrowed” books or

some possessions of the class without informing the teacher beforehand. That was useless. I said

to myself; “They are hopeless.” They can’t be motivated by any model roles like me in teachers’

eyes. They did not buy in that good scores can consolidate a promising future. They gave up

themselves far earlier than schools gave up them.

I did not understand how they chose to become superheroes someday or aspired a superhero life.

“Don’t superheroes study? Aren’t superheroes scientists? “ I was confused. My engineer dad

took me to watch “Superman” movie when I was at that age. I was never dreaming of being any

superman. “From scientific view, there is no superhero but ourselves.” as my dad educated me.

Superheroes were not real. Why didn’t they believe it? Hopeless.

What I need to be crueler here is that Gwen Stacy won’t never date with Spidies. I have seen real

Gwen Stacys in my school days. Most of them were from professor’s or our teachers’ family. They

were beautiful, top in scores both in science and arts, playing some instrument, piano or violin.

They were the divas for being adored but not for being dated with. Forget the fantasy that they

would kiss spidies’ filthy lips. How? Gwen only smiled to the same excellent spectacled boys –

most of them were nerds. Have those Spidermen dreamed of Gwen? Yay, maybe. But I am not

the dream fairy to tell. Every Spiderman must be fear of Gwen Stacy. She is his kryptonite.

Spiderman is supposed to give hope to the people when they are lost. After leaving those Spidies

long long time later. I finally realize a brutal truth: how courageous a boy can be to firmly hold on

to that belief even though his own life was silhouetted in miserable invisibility!

As my dad said, superheroes were not real. My dad never understands that a boy who believes in

superhero will become hero someday to save his girl and his world. His girl and this world are

waiting for him. That is the power of H-O-P-E.