There is one interest of mine that I never thought would be integrated with my love of God and my role as a Seton Teaching Fellow: Superheroes. Particularly, Batman movies and comics. I know, I know! Bear with me for a moment while I integrate Batman, my Fellow year, and my faith. After all, integration has been a huge emphasis of my formation as a fellow. Anything can be redemptive and point to Jesus. Certainly, the lessons of my Fellow year – and their remarkable parallels to my favorite superhero – can too!
Lean into the Pain
Perhaps the most well known thing about Batman is how hard he pushes himself to be the best at everything at all times. Unlike many other superheroes in the DC universe, Batman has no powers. He was driven to his mission by the pain of losing his parents. Now, his body is battered not just by the villains he fights, but by his own intense training rituals. His pain, however, is not pointless. He harnesses it to make himself stronger, every single day.
Just like Batman, this mission will tax you. It will batter your body with the long hours, your mind with the constant flow of information and deliverables, and your soul with the brokenness around you. You might be so wounded you consider giving up the Fellow Year entirely. When that happens, be like Batman. Lean into the pain. Use it to make yourself stronger. Because while you may not always feel like the teacher these kids deserve, you are the one they have right now, so fight for them.
Let Your Light Shine
“When that light hits the sky, it’s not just a call, it’s a warning.” The bat signal is a well known accessory to the Dark Knight. In every comic, Commissioner Gordon turns it on when he wants to have a chat with his elusive friend. Sometimes, though, he turns it on just to let the city know that Batman is out and about. It works as a scare tactic and a preventative measure.
Batman cannot know how many people he has saved, for the amount of crime prevented by his light is impossible to know. In the same way, my presence in the Bronx touches more people than you can ever know. I teach my disciples the Catechism, but presence as an STF touches more than that. You offer a face of Christ to your co-workers, the kids you teach during the day, and even the people whom you walk past on the street.
Everyone in my second grade class knows I teach the faith, and many of the kids are curious about it, even those who don’t attend our school’s optional El Camino program! Even if you never see any conversions from your labour, you never know who is touched by the love you give every single day. Christ once said, “In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven (Matthew 5:16).” Just as Batman doesn’t know who he has vicariously saved through the bat symbol, you can never know who you have helped vicariously through living your mission year fully.
Don’t Fight Alone
Where would Batman be without his trusty butler Alfred? Or Robin? Or Commissioner Gordon? Batman requires these physical and moral supports to continue his mission. Sometimes he pushes these people away, insisting he can work alone, but he always falls back on them. In the same way, you are never alone. You have your formators, your ECPL, your principal, and your instructional coach. They are here to help you. Do not pretend, as Batman often does, that you are completely independent. You are not. But neither is Batman.
You Can’t Control Every Outcome
Batman can do everything he can to help, but he must face up to the fact that ultimately, he cannot save Gotham’s soul. That is up to the good people of Gotham that he strives to protect. In the same way, ultimately, the souls of your children and coworkers are not in your hands. Their souls are up to them and to God. There is a powerful scene in The Dark Knight Rises where Batman and the Joker are locked in the heat of battle. However, the real fight, the fight for Gotham’s soul, takes place on two ferry ships miles away.
In one scene from the movie, the people on the ferries have a difficult collective choice to make: blow up the other ferry, or have their own ship blown up. The Joker has essentially given them the choice to protect themselves, or protect others at the risk of their own lives. Batman, miles away and in a stalemate with the Joker, can do nothing to protect them. Still, even without his intervention, both ferries choose to let the other live, thereby risking their own destruction. Similarly, you can fight for the souls of the people around you, but you cannot guarantee their salvation. It is up to them. You can only lead the way.
Something Better than Batman
Batman has hope. Nobody would fight so hard for a place so broken unless he had hope that he could actually change something. But where does Batman’s hope lie? In an agnostic storyline, Batman’s hope falls on his own shoulders. His hope is fully wrapped up in his own abilities and willpower. When those fail—as we see in “No Man’s Land,” a lesser-known comic from the 1980s—Batman’s hope is gone. He gives up and leaves Gotham to its own devices until he can build himself back up again.
In our reality, as soldiers for Christ we rest our hope on something more eternal than our own willpower. Our hope rests in Christ and His eternal plan. When the days are too much, or the children don’t seem to be learning, or even when it seems unlikely that we will ever make an impact on their eternal destination, we can rest our hope in Christ and keep going. Ultimately, He is the One in control.
God loves your students more than you ever could. Nothing you can dream of will be greater than His plan for them, known and set into motion from eternity. The psalmist says: “Be still and know that I am God.” God has it in control. Just be yourself. And maybe consider a few parallels to Batman as well.
Cecilia Alvarez, Cohort 11, is from Thousand Oaks, California, and attended Thomas Aquinas College. She served at Brilla Pax Elementary in the North Bronx as a Seton Teaching Fellow, and will return to this school again as a Second-Year Fellow.
