For me, comics are medicine that nurtures prosocial behaviors, food that nourishes my authentic self.
Community is Our Super-Power
Reading comics recalls the joy of my early childhood when I discovered that every supermarket, drugstore, and convenience store had a spinner-rack stuffed with new comics each week. I remember numerous times I searched for that rack, hand-picked a comic, sat on the floor, and got lost in breathtaking, even heartbreaking adventures, sometimes until Mom had to come find me. Through comics, I reconnect with my inner child, who is inspired by the creative stories, and is curious to learn more about those make-believe worlds and our own. Today, when a comic’s immersive and deeply emotional narrative grabs my attention, I engage my own imagination while enjoying the graphic expression of someone else’s creativity. Often, I read comics at my leisure to relax; however, they can be more than mere escapism. Frequently, they are a powerful instrument to deliver a meaningful message or life lesson. These creators’ ability to bring complex characters and worlds to vivid life inspires me to share my gift for storytelling through words and pictures. So, I have a long-evolving history with comic books, from reading, to buying, to collecting, but for me they were always a solitary pursuit, not a social activity.
In recent years, I progressed from collecting and storing my comics, to curating and sharing my comics collection. Actually, I believe it is not mine; I am just looking after it until it is in the next person’s care. For me, comics are medicine that nurtures prosocial behaviors, food that nourishes my authentic self. By sharing comics, I have learned kindness, consideration, generosity, responsibility, patience, and trust. As a result, I have improved communication skills, openness with others, appreciation of others, and overall self-esteem. I also practice self-control when I discern a comic is inappropriate and time management when I weigh my priorities. The essential relationship and life skills I have developed foster my passion for a community of comic book fans where all are welcome who are willing to exercise these same skills in harmony.
Obviously, community does not just happen on its own. To grow, people must set aside preconceptions, have confidence to seek out each other, both the known and the new, have courage to be vulnerable in an unwelcoming environment where comic books are usually seen as weak kid stuff, and discover a place of belonging. This place becomes one of opportunity for acceptance, listening, caring, and sharing enthusiasm in our common interest. Here there is room for humor, creative expression through writing and drawing, where each person has a voice to playfully discuss or debate the comic stories and characters they are most passionate about. Together we combine the building blocks of comic books and prosocial life skills and construct lasting, meaningful, healthy relationships.
Change is Constant
The impermanence of life confronts me with its hard truth daily. A new arrival or change of guards, a new canteen item or change of menu, a new vocational training begins or semester ends, are examples of small changes in prison. They usually roll in slowly and predictably, like clouds off the horizon. Sadly, change sometimes hits with hurricane force.
Yesterday, a friend and neighbor of mine moved away. This is a pattern of my life since childhood. It triggers old feelings of loss and abandonment every time. As I write, the familiar tightness grips my chest as I struggle to breathe into the parts that ache. Logic tells me that each decision has nothing to do with me, but the emotions feel very personal. In his case, he wanted and longed for this change. I do not have to understand that sentiment to respect his choice. He has to do what he feels is best for himself in his life journey. However, since I already miss my friend, I find it is difficult to be happy for him.
He is a founding member of our comics community on my yard. I saw and spoke with him almost every day. Not many early members remain, so I feel each loss even more. Like me, he is working on a graphic novel he dreams to publish someday. I will miss our entertaining conversations, his humor, artistry, and goodwill. I wish him the best, even while I grieve and process this loss. On the bright side, I welcome this change as an open new horizon of possibility. Moreover, I rejoice in others’ victories. Before the end of the year, for example, another friend will complete his sentence and he will go home.
