You don’t need to be a superhero. You just need to get vaccinated.
By: Wajahat Ali
Tags: South Africa, Vaccines, Delta, Omicron

The authors two children, Nusayba and Ibrahim, posing after taking their second vaccine shot. Photo courtesy of the author.

I wish we were as obsessed with science, vaccines, and living as we are obsessed with superhero movies. I actually love comic books and still read them to this day, but thanks to Disney, which now owns everything, even I can’t keep up with the barrage of spandex content. Every week, there’s a new TV show or movie or remake of a comic book movie based on our favorite caped characters from the DC or Marvel universe. I haven’t had time to see Eternals, probably won’t have time to see the latest Spiderman movie, and was just reminded that two episodes of Hawkeye dropped earlier this week.

It’s getting a bit much.

I know you’re likely thinking, What does your rant have to do with vaccines and hate freedom, old man? I don’t hate freedom, but it’s a good question.

Popular culture reflects the hopes, dreams and fears of a society. Superheroes are our modern mythical heroes, and they make for fantastic escapism during a global pandemic, income inequality, the rise of fascism, and climate change, which is apparently a hoax according to Donald Trump and several GOP leaders. We live vicariously through the fictional characters’ heroic exploits. If only we had superpowers, we too could wear leotards and save the day.

I think superhero movies also work on another level in that they reflect our desire to outsource our problems to a singular hero, an unseen deity, or a powerful force that can snap its fingers, like a non-genocidal Thanos, and magically cure all our ailments.

The truth is that the Avengers and the Justice League aren’t coming. They aren’t real. We’re all that we have. We have to rely on ourselves and do our best with whatever tools and powers we have to save ourselves during a once-in-a-lifetime pandemic that has killed more than 5 million people and counting. After surviving this summer’s deadly delta variant, we now have to learn new Greek letters thanks to the emergence of Omicron. This variant sounds like Unicron, the planet-eating villain from Transformers: The Movie. (I’ve been waiting since 1986 to make that reference, and it was so, so worth it.)

Although President Biden reassured Americans earlier this week that the variant is “a cause of concern, not a cause for panic,” the World Health Organization warned the new risk posed by Omicron was still “very high.” Obviously, we don’t know what we don’t know, however South Africa, to its credit, identified the variant and made its findings public last week. This only meant that some people would result in knee-jerk demonization and name Omicron the “South African variant,” even though coronavirus doesn’t have a zip code, ethnicity, gender, or religion. There are also travel bans in place against South Africa, even as Omicron has spread to Europe, resulting in the foreign ministry suggesting the country is being unfairly punished.

(In part due to Trump’s branding of Covid-19 as the “China Virus” and “Kung Flu” in 2020, the Stop AAPI Hate group recorded more than 3,000 incidents of hate and assault against Asian Americans, who were unfairly smeared and blamed for a virus. The FBI data revealed anti-Asian hate crimes jumped 73% in 2020. Hopefully, we don’t repeat this tragedy against those from African countries.)

The emergence of Omicron should force us to finally acknowledge that we are all in this together. Our border walls, expensive zip codes, industrialized status and ridiculously expensive water bottles won’t seal us off or give us protection. Developed countries have been stingy with giving out vaccines and medical resources to other countries in desperate need of vaccines, while a significant minority around the world is radicalized and misled by misinformation and taking horse dewormers instead.

One would assume that if Matt Damon needed to be saved, or if there was an alien invasion, the world would unite much like in science fiction movies, but the disjointed global response to Covid-19 revealed that it’s just a Hollywood fantasy.

In the past two years, we have at least learned the following:

Covid-19 is real and dangerous

More than 5 million have died from the virus

We might be done with Covid-19, but it certainly isn’t done with us. If it’s a trilogy, then we’re most likely in COVID 2: COVID HARDER

Vaccines work, save lives, and they don’t implant chips in your head that allows Bill Gates to track your every move while he’s busy playing Jenga with the Deep State

Those who are unvaccinated are at an 11 times higher risk of dying, being hospitalized, getting sick and passing on the virus, which then mutates and evolves into new Greek letters

This all brings me back to superheroes. It is overwhelming to reflect on the multitude of problems that are currently facing the globe, humanity, and our respective communities. In the end, we can only be responsible for our own intentions and actions. In the U.S., this means we have the choice to get vaccines, which are free and readily available, as a means of protecting ourselves, our loved ones, and also those who are vulnerable. This includes people like my 5-year-old daughter Nusayba, who is an immuno-suppressed cancer survivor with a liver transplant.

For more than two years, our family has had to be in quarantine to protect Nusayba. This means her older brother, Ibrahim, is also in virtual school, because the risk of him going to school in person and bringing the virus home is too high. We also have a pandemic baby, Khadija, who is now 2 years old and this abnormal reality is the only normal she’s ever known. Still, my children are thoughtful, patient and responsible. They know to wear masks in public. They always wash and sanitize their hands. They are aware of coronavirus and the risks it poses. For the past year, they’ve been patiently waiting to take the vaccine in the hopes of restarting a new normal. Let me repeat, they are ages 5 and 7. Those who refuse to follow basic life-saving precautions during this pandemic aren’t being “childish,” they are simply being selfish and reckless brats.

Earlier today, both of my kids received their second vaccine shots. Afterwards, they got their lollipops, thanked their nurse, and went home feeling like champions. We still don’t know if Nusayba will produce enough antibodies that will give her adequate protection, but we’re grateful she at least has a chance now. It was a glorious day, and we celebrated with pizza, Legos, and I even built them a sofa fort that they destroyed within five minutes.

If you’re still on the fence about getting the vaccine, think about your neighbors and community members who are immuno-suppressed, like my daughter and so many of our elders. You get vaccinated for others, not just yourself.

The reason we admire Spiderman, Wonder Woman and Superman is because they use their power and privileges to help people in need. Sometimes, ordinary people without superpowers can do the most extraordinary things. You don’t have to fly in the sky or climb on walls to save lives. You just have to get a vaccine.

You can be a hero, and you don’t even need to wear a cape.