Table of contents |
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Defining Heroes |
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False Heroes |
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Tokyo |
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Danger |
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Young Heroes |
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Supporting Young Carers |
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Superheroes |
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Stan Lee’s Superheroes |
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Enviros |
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In a thought-provoking exploration titled "Modern Heroes," Arundhati Adiga delves into society’s fascination with heroism, tracing its roots and questioning its modern manifestations. The term “hero” originates from ancient Greek, meaning “defender”—someone who shields others from harm. This essence persists today, as seen in acts like a woman rescuing people from a burning building or a man sacrificing himself to save another. Yet, Adiga probes whether celebrities, sportspeople, or musicians qualify as heroes. Nearly 3,000 years ago, Homer’s epic poem depicted Odysseus, a soldier enduring a decade-long odyssey home, battling monsters and divine trials with bravery and determination—qualities the Greeks revered. Modern heroes, Adiga suggests, confront contemporary “monsters” like war and poverty. Soldiers are lauded for their willingness to die for their country, while figures like Martin Luther King and Sojourner Truth are celebrated for championing equality against discrimination. Medical researchers and environmental campaigners also earn heroic status, striving to cure diseases or save the planet. Research identifies six core heroic traits: leadership, loyalty, determination, bravery, selflessness, and risk-taking. When people admire a hero, they see an ideal reflection of qualities they aspire to embody, revealing as much about the admirer as the hero themselves.
In a forceful argument titled “The Age of False Heroes,” the writer challenges the notion that celebrities deserve heroic status, asserting that society worships “false heroes” driven by selfish motives. When asked to name a hero, young people often cite celebrities—figures famous merely for being famous—rather than explorers or medical pioneers. While celebrities may exhibit motivation, their drive is rooted in a desire for wealth and adulation, not selflessness, unlike true heroes who act without personal gain. Even charitable acts by celebrities are dismissed as publicity stunts, timed to coincide with music or film releases to boost their careers. The writer argues that celebrities contribute little to society, offering mere entertainment, with some, like certain rappers, promoting boastful, offensive, or aggressive messages far removed from heroism. True heroes, in contrast, are unselfish, brave, and willing to sacrifice their lives for others, motivated by values beyond fame and fortune. The article’s sharp critique calls for a reevaluation of who we elevate as heroes, urging admiration for those who embody genuine, altruistic courage.
In Graham Marks’ novel *Tokyo*, young Adam grapples with the daunting challenge of finding his missing sister, Charlie, in the chaotic, neon-lit streets of Asakusa. The night-time city overwhelms him, its sky devoid of stars, replaced by a dazzling array of flashing neon signs in every bold color, punctuated by cryptic symbols and occasional English words that deepen his confusion. Surrounded by people engrossed in phone calls or texting, Adam feels utterly disoriented, questioning his decision to come to this “madhouse.” Standing on a street corner, he weighs returning home or pressing on, knowing inaction will leave him paralyzed. Consulting a city map under a streetlight, he plots a subway journey to Roppongi, where Charlie was last seen at the Bar Belle. Underground, the clean, orderly subway contrasts with the chaotic surface, but buying a ticket proves frustrating until a kind stranger helps. The journey to Roppongi is straightforward, yet back in the neon-drenched crossroads, Adam faces the daunting task of locating the elusive Bar Belle, with no clear leads and a growing sense of uncertainty.
Adam’s quest in *Tokyo* takes a tense turn as he navigates Roppongi’s vibrant streets, seeking the Bar Belle. Approaching a friendly-looking man distributing flyers, he inquires about the bar, offering a ¥1,000 note for directions. The man, speaking in a lively, non-standard dialect, instructs Adam to cross the street and take the second right, where the bar is located several floors up, marked by a sign. Following the tip, Adam ventures into an alley, only to freeze when he spots a silhouetted figure at the entrance, seemingly watching him. Fearing a setup, he scans the shadows for a weapon, finding none, and considers makeshift defenses like coins between his fingers, a tactic he dismisses as futile. Bracing for confrontation, he walks toward the figure, planning to rush past to the crowded street. As he nears, he realizes the man is elderly, facing away, oblivious to him. Relief washes over Adam, tinged with embarrassment at his paranoia, and with an odd sense of anticlimax, he returns to the subway, his search for Charlie unresolved but his resolve intact.
In a poignant newspaper article, Kate Hilpern shines a light on Sarah Thomas, an 18-year-old who has been a young carer for her mother, who suffers from multiple sclerosis, since early childhood, and later for her father as well. Far from harboring resentment for the childhood experiences she missed, Sarah embraces her role, viewing it as an integral part of her identity. Her daily tasks range from household chores to administering medication, providing physical support, and handling paperwork. This responsibility has forged her into a remarkably independent individual, surpassing her peers in confidence, assertiveness, empathy, and optimism. Her bond with her parents is marked by a unique blend of ease and honesty. Despite assumptions that young carers miss out on vacations or suffer academically, Sarah counters that her family took three trips annually, and she excelled in her GCSEs, now thriving in a health and social care course at college. However, bullying has been a harsh reality, as peers targeted her for maturing faster than them. At eight, Sarah co-founded a local young carers’ group, a vital space where she could reclaim moments of childhood through play, underscoring the resilience and strength that define her young heroism.
Liz Burton’s online article offers British teachers practical guidance on supporting young carers in schools, recognizing their unique challenges and potential. Teachers, Burton emphasizes, are ideally placed to provide academic assistance, facilitate access to social support, or simply offer a listening ear. One key approach is inviting students to share their concerns, particularly quieter ones whose silence may stem from exhaustion or worry, while ensuring inclusivity to avoid jealousy among classmates. Academically, young carers need tailored support to keep pace with peers, such as lunchtime catch-up classes to review homework or clarify concepts, permission to use phones during breaks to check on loved ones, and leniency for issues like tardiness or missed assignments. Burton also urges teachers to connect young carers with external resources, such as mental and physical health services through school nurses or counselors, and social clubs run by organizations like The Children’s Society, where they can bond with peers facing similar responsibilities. By proactively recognizing and addressing these students’ needs, teachers can significantly enhance the lives of young carers and those they care for, fostering a more fulfilling educational and personal experience.
Superhero films, as explored in the article “A Super-Real Type of Film,” captivate audiences with their exaggerated, fantastical narratives that stretch far beyond realism, yet remain irresistibly entertaining. These stories hinge on predictable yet appealing conventions: ordinary individuals with secret identities transform into extraordinary crime-fighters, donning vibrant costumes to battle supervillains over the fate of the world. The stark contrast between their mundane and heroic personas is a hallmark, though their disguises often seem comically transparent to viewers, if not to other characters. Superpowers typically stem from dramatic origins, like Spider-Man’s accidental radioactive bite or Batman’s resolve forged by his parents’ murder. Yet, embracing these powers is fraught with struggle, often depicted in moments of solitude in a secret lair, as heroes grapple with their dual lives. The narrative crescendos in a clash with a formidable supervillain, where the hero’s triumph is all but assured, occasionally complicated by a romantic interest oblivious to their true identity. This playful, larger-than-life genre thrives on its ability to thrill and entertain, inviting audiences to revel in the spectacle of good prevailing over evil.
Stan Lee, the legendary comic-book creator, left an indelible mark with his iconic characters, as highlighted in two articles about his lesser-known superheroes. His final creation, Jewel, is a Chinese female superhero introduced as a world-touring pop star who moonlights as a crime-fighter. While her specific superpowers remained undefined at Lee’s passing, her dual life echoes the classic superhero trope of balancing fame with secrecy. Earlier, in the 1960s, Lee crafted The Mandarin, a supervillain of Chinese-English descent in *Tales of Suspense*, who aimed to devastate China’s rice crops but was thwarted by Iron Man, marking an early foray into Chinese characters. In 2011, Lee co-created Chakra: The Invincible, an Indian superhero with a desi flair. Raju Rai, a teenage tech genius, activates a blue jumpsuit that unleashes his body’s chakras, granting him powers to protect Mumbai. Blending elements of Spider-Man’s origin and Iron Man’s tech-savvy, Chakra’s story infuses cultural specificity into the superhero mold, showcasing Lee’s knack for crafting diverse, compelling heroes who resonate across borders.
The superhero film *Enviros* introduces Chun-hei, a disillusioned schoolgirl in a profit-obsessed town, burdened by a world indifferent to its dying planet. As an infant, she received a mysterious gemstone that grants her a unique connection to nature, enabling her to predict and avert natural disasters as Enviros. Clad in a green costume, she wields extraordinary speed, strength, and the ability to fly. Her greatest foe is Ron Punch, alias Arco, a ruthless corporate magnate plotting to sell Earth’s resources to an alien planet before destroying it. In a gripping scene, Chun-hei, distracted in class as a purple sky and fierce winds signal impending danger, rushes to the sports hall to transform. Meanwhile, Punch, in his opulent skyscraper office, schemes to abandon Earth, his pet snake slithering across his desk. Enviros confronts him, sliding down his building’s facade to face him through a glass window, setting the stage for a high-stakes battle to save the planet from his destructive ambitions.
9 docs|9 tests
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1. What are the challenges faced by young carers in their daily lives? | ![]() |
2. How can communities better support young carers? | ![]() |
3. What is the impact of superhero movies on young audiences? | ![]() |
4. How did Stan Lee influence the superhero genre? | ![]() |
5. What is a 'super-real' type of film? | ![]() |