My Quiet Superhero

What My Father Taught Me by Example

I’ve always felt like I can safely go on autopilot when my dad is around. Let me explain… my dad makes me feel at ease—like I can stow my hypervigilance away because he’s taking care of things. He’s capable, stays calm in emergencies, and knows how to fix things when they break. My dad has a quiet but larger-than-life presence that has revealed itself during key moments throughout my life.

The first time I saw his superhero side was when we were coming back from the state fair and stopped at a restaurant alongside the interstate. As we were eating lunch, an argument in the parking lot beside us escalated—suddenly, a boyfriend was physically pushing around his girlfriend. No one in the restaurant moved a muscle—except my dad. He called 911 and calmly walked outside toward the fight so the boyfriend would know help was coming. And that’s exactly what happened. The man stopped assaulting the woman and walked away. My dad and I stayed with her until the police arrived, then returned inside to finish eating—still the only ones who had moved to help. That moment taught me the power of taking swift action and standing up for what’s right, even when you’re the only one doing so.

People seem to instinctively know they can come to my dad for help—because they can tell he’s a good guy. One time, a woman flagged him down outside a coffee shop. She had lost her shirt in an incident and needed help until the police arrived. Without hesitation, my dad gave her an extra shirt he had in the back of his car. When he later told me what happened, it stuck with me: you help people who need it, even if they’re strangers who can never repay you. That’s just who he is. He’s the kind of person who’ll jump in to help someone set up a tent at a craft fair (we sold items at craft fairs for years for my nonprofit). He may be quiet, but he leaps into action and speaks up when it’s needed—even if no one asked him to. Those kinds of moments growing up taught me to do the same. Kindness is free, and don’t we all hope someone would do the same for us if the roles were reversed?

Another way my dad and I connected growing up was through karate. We bonded over learning techniques, sparring, and working hard to level up and earn our next belts (we both love learning!). At our studio, we were taught that we have a responsibility to protect those who cannot protect themselves—and to defend ourselves and our loved ones from harm. That mindset (paired with a little anxiety) has made me hyperaware of my surroundings, always scanning for potential threats. But when I’m with my dad, I can relax. I know he’s got that job covered. That feeling of safety—of being protected—turned my dad into a quiet but constant superhero in my life.

He also seemed like a superhero because he could fix anything. Growing up on a farm, my dad learned from his own father how to build and repair things because that’s just how it was. As a kid, I didn’t fully understand how cool it was to be that self-reliant—to make things from scratch or figure out how to fix something, often by teaching yourself along the way. But as an adult, I’ve grown to appreciate that generational knowledge. I’m grateful he had me help him as a kid, so I’d learn those skills too. Even now, I’m amazed each time he starts a new project or just seems to know how to do something.

I know my dad won’t always be here to make me feel safe or fix something I’ve broken. That awareness makes me treasure these moments all the more. His steady, quiet presence has allowed me to flourish into the person I am today. Because of him, I’ve learned the power of stepping up when no one else does. I’ve seen what calm bravery looks like—and how it can change the course of a moment. My dad didn’t just fix what was broken around me; he showed me how to live with integrity, compassion, and courage. I’m proud to call that fix-it-all superhero my dad.