In the old world we had heroes. There were great men and their millions, who, like stoic fathers moved to a moment of warmth, turned the great eye of capitalism toward us, granting the gift of being seen by a world that would ignore us. In return we granted them praise and adoration, returning to them the virtue and privilege we longed for them to share.

There were martyrs and soldiers, heroes risking themselves to save us. They granted us the gift of being loved by a world that had dismissed us, told us we didn’t matter. In return we took their lives and their stories, writing them as we like, so we might never have to feel that this love was undeserved.

But these are the stories of children, longing to be seen, longing to be loved, but hiding from the world under blankets of fairy tales, unable to see and unable to love back.

What if, in the new world, there are no heroes? No great men with their millions, praised for meager sacrifice. No martyrs, no soldiers, no one asked to give more than we would give for them.

And if anyone ever had to risk their lives, we would do everything to offer them safety, to act with the love we each deserve, and to listen to their stories when it is done.

What if, in the new world, there were no heroes? Just people helping people, in the best way they can. And the great men and their millions, were merely paying the price of admission to a world where everyone is seen, everyone is heard, and everyone is loved and fed.