Superpowers-Tights, Tricksters and Tradition

Header image by Amy Taylor of canva.com

This personal essay about superpowers doesn’t contain any kink. Instead, it is a short inside look at where I live and a former part of my life. I do mention penises and periods though, if that’s your thing.

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I know humans don’t have superpowers. They can’t leap over buildings in a single bound or run faster than a speeding train. Humans can’t see through walls or hear a pin drop miles away. But we’d be a whole lot cooler if we could. At least we think so.

We’re really quite ordinary, and yet we gravitate towards the mystical, the unknown, and the supernatural. The idea that there could be those who have superhuman strength, or telekinesis, fills many story books; is layered throughout human history, and is worth an estimated 27.8 billion dollars today. That number is predicted to grow to unfathomable amounts in the next ten years.

But there’s more to the tales of superpowers than simply power. There’re lessons and guidance, and places of honor to be had.

The part of Canada in which I live is no stranger to the Superpower Theme.

Besides being an inherent part of the First Nations legends of our area, 178 movies have been filmed in and around where I call home. Titles like Inception, Jumanji, X-men and The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, are only a few.

Taking a drive to the small town of High River, you’ll come to the Museum of the Highwood. There you can find props and displays for every movie ever made in our little piece of paradise. Most famous is likely Superman, which is why the museum opened in the first place, as the town itself was the set of Smallville, Superman’s hometown. Another thirty minutes north, you’ll find Calgary, the setting for Metropolis- where Clark Kent worked as a journalist. The original Superman, starring Christopher Reeve, was released in 1978; the second sequel (Superman III), filmed on the plains of Alberta, the year I was born.

As a small girl, I loved Superman.

This was most likely because he was a big deal and the adults talked animatedly about him. But also, because the movies were clean mouthed and wholesome entertainment, so I could watch them too. But really, what was there not to love about the Man of Steel? Besides being a writer- something I aspired to even all those years ago- Superman is kind, generous, and down to earth (errrr… Krypton?). Faster than a speeding train, he still took time to slow down and find love (although perhaps someone should have a chat with Lois Lane about consent).

Stronger than any man, he was caring and gentle, until he couldn’t be. He’s handsome, smart, and has good morals. He’s the guy every mother and more than a few fathers want their daughter to bring home. Which is exactly why at around 11 or 12, I noticed superheroes of the more rough-around-the-edges variety as I was introduced to Wolverine, Batman and Thor (I have a thing for brooding, mysterious men, okay? Although, I’d prefer them without the tights 😉).

It was also around this age that I moved to the home of an aboriginal woman.

Yes, this is an oddity in Canada. While a large portion of First Nations children are placed in foster care (this still has more to do with racism and the whitewashed ways of Christianity than perceived abuse or neglect), it is almost unheard of for Caucasian kids to be placed in an Aboriginal home. My foster mother was a well-educated woman, though, and so was considered a viable resource.

Even if our time together was short-lived, being in her care was one of the best occasions for learning in my entire life. I spent many weekends with her on the Blood Reserve (a Reservation under Treaty 7), taking part in sweat lodges, Sun Dances and speaking with the Blackfoot Confederation peoples. I was often called “blue eyes” and “whitey”, and although those names sound like they also hold a hint of racism, it was mostly in good fun (the Blackfoot like to laugh, sometimes at the expense of others). Even as the butt of jokes, I know I was being given a unique experience. I got an up close and personal look at a culture and history that many first nations’ children have never been taught or allowed to be a part of. I think of it as a blessing.

Story telling is a pastime of most civilizations and the Blackfoot are no different.

Around campfires, under the stars, legends of old would be told by the tribal elders. Each a lesson to teach the younger generations the values and beliefs of the people, using the tales of their quasi-creator: N’api- The Old Man of the Blackfoot.

It is said that no one made the Old Man (N’api). He was created from the mist, experimenting and toying with his own form until he learned to shape shift. As he likes to take the shape of a human man most often, one well known description of N’api is that his penis was like a lariat, in that it could grow to unimaginable size, as needed (I do wonder when that would be). And could even be used as a lasso to harness storms. Today we call this a rainbow-to which the Blackfoot will laugh in hysterics, as they believe you’re talking about N’api’s cock (it is kinda’ funny when you put it like that).

When he was first testing his desired shape, he tried to place his penis and testicles on his head but found them to be awkward and cumbersome (gee, you think?). He eventually decided that they were safest between the legs, where not only would they be close to him, but he would also have full control over them when they were needed (and now you know….)

The histories of the Blackfoot people aren’t all fun and games, though.

They discuss serious topics during story time, like famine, murder, and rape. Using the stories to teach why it’s important to not do certain things or act in certain ways.

Unlike in Christianity, where God is revered, N’api is not. Yes, the Blackfoot hold a form of high regard for him, but it cannot be called respect. For who could respect a creator (or quasi-creator) that brings deformed babies into the world, or lets the prairies burn, roasting all plants and animals in sight. N’api is not considered to be a benevolent God, but a trickster. He has superpowers that allow him to create, but he tampers with his creations, creating havoc and misfortune. Cunning and clever, he was also deceptive and skilled at illusion. He deceived everyone he encountered, frustrating them, confusing them, and sometimes even killing them.

I must say I appreciate that the Blackfoot don’t think of N’api as an all-powerful God, just an entity with superpowers. They show well the two sides of all things. We often see the battle of good vs. evil, but rarely do we get to take in the villain’s perspective.

I was lucky enough to be a part of the Blackfoot community when I got my first period.

Other girls my age had already gotten their first moon time, although they didn’t give it such an inspiring name. I had heard it called a “rag”, “that time of month” and many other coarse, cruel and callous things. Most girls I knew thought it was dirty, not to be talked about, and felt shunned. When I saw those first spots on my panties, I cringed, knowing that they would think me of as the innocent girl I once was.

I informed my foster mother, who instead of making me feel like I was dirty or tainted, held me in high esteem. I had gotten my power, she said, the power to create life. She called all her female friends and together they held a huge party for me, celebrating the superpower of becoming a woman. The Blackfoot people believe that woman should be held in high regard, not only because they care for the men, but because only they can create new life, and that is the highest power one can be granted (cool, hey?).

But we get more than stories and celebrations from the tales of superpowers.

They also teach us valuable lessons. Superman taught us that no matter where you are, it’s who you’re with that makes each day worthwhile. And perhaps more importantly, that doing what is right is rarely easy, but doing what is easy is rarely right.

And N’api, well, he taught us not to trust blindly, to question when things don’t seem right. But also, when you feel like your testicles are on your head, things can always be changed and corrected.

Tales of superpowers teach us how to have pride, how to persevere and achieve our goals. How to grow and improve, and above all else, how to be comfortable with our own powers, whether or not they’re super.

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To see who else is writing about Superpowers, flip the 4 Thoughts page.

For more about MrsK and life as she knows it, see here.

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