Stories of origin are where we get our ideas about good and evil, discover how we should conduct themselves in the world,
Diane Douglas Willard, right, demonstrates with her daughter, Gianna Willard, both Haida tribal members from Ketchikan, Alaska, during a Native American protest against Columbus Day, Monday, Oct. 10, 2011, in Seattle. (AP Photo/Elaine Thompson)
and find out where we fit into our cultural lineage. That the United States celebrates Columbus Day despite the well-known concerns about Columbus’ part in the genocide on Hispaniola, indicates that to the Americans he is a hero. Once such a person is appointed a hero, then the word hero becomes associated with their behaviour and suddenly his genocide looks heroic.
An example which makes this tendency more explicit is that of the film Superman Two from 1980, in which 
Superman has momentarily lost his powers and has no more strength than an ordinary man. His debility means that when he confronts a bully in a diner he is beaten up. At the end of the film, this heroic figure—who is universally agreed to be the epitome of the American hero—goes back to the diner and in a bizarre mock-comic confrontation, beats up the bully. Now that he has regained his strength, Superman has become the bully.
If a child were to view that film, and I’m sure that in 1980 many did, then their notion of hero would be expanded to include those who hit people weaker than themselves. To the child who watches their hero beat up a bully, despite the fact that Superman is thousands of times stronger than the bully, suddenly genocide looks heroic.
