May the Force be with you

It’s not often in a person’s life when he or she experiences news that becomes a flashbulb memory—the term in memory psychology for an exceptionally vivid snapshot of the time and place in which a piece of shocking, consequential news is heard. Countless people, for example, remember when and where they first watched Neil Armstrong walk on the moon. I’m sure many of you probably remember where and when you first heard you were accepted to Duke. This past Tuesday, Oct. 29, I experienced a flashbulb memory of my own. I heard there were going to be more “Star Wars” movies.

It’s safe to say I grew up watching, re-watching, analyzing and thinking about “Star Wars.” In fact, I have a bad feeling about this—but I’ll give it to you straight as the laser blast that Han shot first. I’ve perused wookieepedia.com on occasion. I’ve read quite a few “Star Wars” books (I own the official encyclopedia set and a George Lucas-signed “The Making of Star Wars Revenge of the Sith”). Back in my middle school years my friends and I would go out to the backyard woods and try to hit each other with sticks. We called this lightsaber fighting. My mom called it dangerous. But you get the point.

I learned lessons from “Star Wars.” From Darth Vader’s choke-inducing force powers I learned that might does not make right. From Yoda’s masterful monologues I learned that “size matters not”—that character and wisdom, rather than pre-conceived judgments and physical appearances, determine greatness. From Han Solo I learned that those with gruff personalities can still have hearts of gold. And from the band of misfits jumping to hyperspace aboard the Millennium Falcon, I learned that even a small group of dedicated, diverse individuals could oppose the tyranny of the Galactic Empire.

But the greatest lesson “Star Wars” taught me was also the simplest. Put quite simply, “Star Wars” helped me dream. It inspired me. It put me in the shoes of the characters on that Cloud City in Bespin or that Red Squadron X-Wing as it pivoted in to attack the Death Star. And for a second, if only for a second, I was taken out of this world. I faced down Darth Vader in the Emperor’s throne room. I learned from Yoda in the wet jungle swamp of Dagobah. I was Luke Sykwalker on the classic hero’s journey.

I don’t think this can be understated—the importance of helping a child learn to dream. This is one of the greatest gifts our schools and parents can give our children. Some might call this concept, along with this column, cliché and saccharine. But I have written before that dreams are fragile things, and I’ll say it again. There is tremendous power in a child watching a movie or picking up a book and feeling that he or she has entered a new world. These worlds might be fantasy or science fiction or fiction or non-fiction. But such exploration, such dream-fostering, teaches a child how to see our world not as it is but how it could be. And it inspires them to make it so.

I felt many emotions when I heard that George Lucas had sold Lucasfilm to Disney for $4 billion. I felt nostalgia, a reminder of the movies I had loved as a child and obviously still love to this day. I felt great pride in America that the son of a small-store owner could grow to be a billionaire from the creativity and beneficence of his intellectual property and individuality, one of many versions of the American Dream. I felt anticipation for Episode VII, soon to be released in 2015—and a touch of dread and worry that it might fail to do the original trilogy justice.

But above all I felt a new hope. Hope that new generations might one day experience what I experienced all those years ago when I first popped those VHS tapes in to my family’s old, living-room VCR. That children the world over, rich or poor, male or female, Christian, Muslim, Atheist or Jew, might one day experience the universal joy I knew. That through a future filled with “Star Wars,” they might also enter and discover the universe that I inhabited, dissected and explored. That they might dream big dreams in a galaxy far, far away—and dream even bigger dreams for their own futures.

Each generation, our world is made anew by the dreams of dreamers—the dreams of businessmen, teachers, artists, politicians and authors. And each generation, our world is made better by the creative genius of those like George Lucas, who help foster those dreams. “Star Wars,” at its heart, is more than just entertainment. It is a source of inspiration. I hope the future generation of movies will inspire as many dreams as the original trilogy of the past. And from one dreamer to future ones I say: May the Force be with you.