How Movies Helped Me See the Bigger Picture

I love movies. Always have. There’s something about sitting in a darkened theater, surrounded by strangers, experiencing a story unfold together—it’s magic. My earliest memories of the big screen are The Land Before Time and The Sword in the Stone. I don’t remember which came first, but I do remember who took me. Erlene Daniels brought me to see The Land Before Time, and my father took me to The Sword in the Stone. From that moment on, I saw movies as something special—an event, an experience meant to be shared.

The first movie I ever watched on my own in a theater was Aladdin. When it ended, I snuck into a screening of Unforgiven where my father was on a date. And, in true cinematic fashion, my first kiss? Toy Story.

It wasn’t until The Matrix that I understood the power of film on a deeper level. That movie didn’t just entertain me—it altered how I saw the world. Suddenly, movies weren’t just stories; they were conversations, ideas, and reflections of something bigger than myself.

Growing up, I got a small taste of the industry. My father worked as a background actor in Austin, Texas, and when we needed extra money, I did the same. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was a glimpse into something I had always admired.

Movies are special to me.

The last film I saw in theaters before the pandemic was Big Trouble in Little China. I love John Carpenter—the way he weaves satire and suspense into his films. But these days, I don’t get to watch as many movies as I’d like. I’m a dad, a husband, and constantly grinding to provide.

But this weekend, I’m making time.

The Importance of Captain America

Captain America: Brave New World is coming out, and I’m excited. I’ve seen every Marvel movie. My friends and I have long-winded text debates about everything from Daredevil’s legal troubles to the moral contradictions of Tony Stark. We analyze, we theorize, we argue over who’s stronger and who’s more righteous. And in doing so, we do what millions of fans around the world do—interact with something we love.

But Captain America isn’t just another superhero. He’s different.

Steve Rogers wasn’t the strongest, the fastest, or the smartest. He wasn’t born into power or privilege. What made him worthy of that shield wasn’t just his ability to throw a punch—it was his unwavering belief in doing what was right, even when it was hard, even when the system told him to stand down. "I don't like bullies," he famously said in The First Avenger. "I don't care where they're from."

Captain America is about standing up for principles, not power.

And that’s why Brave New World matters.

I love this country, and like many, I see it teetering toward something dangerous—a government consolidating more control than the Founding Fathers ever intended. The Federalists, led by John Adams, pushed for strong centralized power, while Jefferson and Hamilton (yes, that Hamilton) fought for balance, for checks, for a system that would prevent tyranny. America was meant to be a nation of accountability, not consolidation.

Yet today, we see an erosion of that vision—speech suppressed, oversight stripped away, and power hoarded under the guise of “reducing government.” The ideal of democracy—true democracy—is slipping away, not because of external threats, but because of internal complacency. And if Captain America existed in the real world, he’d be ashamed of what we’ve become.

Not because of partisan politics. Not because of left or right.

But because of the lack of character in those we elect.

Because of the corruption, the self-interest, and the way division has become more valuable than unity.

This weekend, when Brave New World hits theaters, we’ll see the usual cycle of culture war nonsense. Sam Wilson, a Black man, wielding the shield will spark backlash from the same people who claim to love the character, yet fundamentally misunderstand him. They’ll call it “DEI America” or mockingly label him the “woke Cap.”

But here’s the truth—Sam Wilson earned that shield.

In the comics, he took up the mantle after Steve Rogers died. So did Bucky (Winter Soldier), and at one point, even the Punisher. But neither of them fully embodied what Captain America represents.

Because Captain America isn’t just a person.

It’s an idea.

It’s the belief that America is about more than bloodlines, more than inheritance, more than the weight of the past dictating the future. It’s about the possibility of what this country could be.

Sam Wilson carrying that shield is not about race, nor is it about replacing Steve Rogers. It’s about the very thing Steve stood for—that anyone, no matter their background, can rise to the occasion. That America, at its best, isn’t about gatekeeping greatness but aspiring to it.

And that’s why Captain America matters.

Because if we lose sight of the ideals he stands for—the belief that the strong should protect the weak, that truth should matter, that justice is not just for the powerful—then we’re not just losing a superhero.

We’re losing the very thing that makes this country worth fighting for.

The American Dream—A Warning and a Reminder

America isn’t just a place—it’s a concept. And for centuries, that concept has been built on the idea of possibility. The American Dream is not a tangible thing; it’s a belief, an aspiration, a guiding principle that says:

• If you work hard, you can achieve something greater.

• If you dedicate yourself, you can build a better future.

• If you stand for something, your voice will matter.

But what happens when that dream is intentionally eroded? When the very systems that were meant to safeguard opportunity instead work to hoard wealth, silence dissent, and restrict upward mobility?

We’re at a turning point. And not a subtle one.

Over the next few months, millions of American workers will be let go under the guise of “Making America Great Again.” That phrase, endlessly repeated as a slogan, has become detached from any real accountability. Because what does it actually mean to “make America great?” Does it mean fostering more economic opportunity? Increasing wages? Strengthening the middle class? Investing in infrastructure and innovation?

No.

In practice, “Making America Great Again” has largely translated into forced austerity, mass layoffs, and a government that is consolidating power while stripping away support systems. The American worker is being told to sacrifice, while billion-dollar corporations take home record profits.

And this is where Captain America would have something to say.

Because Steve Rogers wasn’t just about punching Nazis or throwing a shield. He was about fighting for the people who don’t have power. He was about standing up against corruption, not enabling it. He was about truth, not manufactured narratives designed to pit us against one another.

The Erosion of Opportunity

America is at risk of becoming a nation where the dream is no longer achievable for most people. Consider the economic reality:

• Real wages have stagnated for the majority of Americans since the late 1970s, while the cost of living—housing, healthcare, education—has skyrocketed.

• Unions have been dismantled, leaving workers with little negotiating power while corporations report record earnings.

• Government jobs are being cut, not to reduce inefficiency, but as a way to shift power away from public accountability and into private hands.

• Tech and automation are replacing jobs at a speed that outpaces retraining efforts, and instead of preparing for the future, those in power are actively ignoring the consequences.

• The wealth gap is at its highest level in modern history, with the top 1% owning more than the bottom 90% combined.

But somehow, when it’s time for budget cuts, it’s never the billionaires or corporations being asked to sacrifice—it’s always the middle and working class.

Government spending is not being reduced. It’s being reallocated.

Just look at where the money is actually going:

• $400 million spent on armored Teslas—vehicles known for their tendency to catch fire and malfunction.

• Billions in subsidies funneled to SpaceX, funding rockets that explode on launch pads while politicians cut food assistance programs.

• Massive defense budgets, ensuring that military contractors continue making record profits while public schools can’t even afford basic supplies.

The same people telling you that the government is too big are the ones making sure their wealthy donors keep getting government money.

Meanwhile, wages remain stagnant. Home ownership is becoming a luxury rather than an achievable goal. Basic healthcare is still out of reach for millions. And instead of addressing these core issues, our political leaders feed the public culture war nonsense—turning our frustrations against each other, rather than the real problem.

This is what they want. Division. Misdirection. A population too distracted arguing over identity politics to realize that we are being gutted economically, socially, and politically.

And this is where Captain America becomes more than just a character in a film.

The America That Could Be

Captain America is not a nationalist. He never was.

In the comics, Steve Rogers rejected nationalism, corruption, and blind loyalty to the government. He stood for people, not politicians. He questioned authority when it overreached. He fought for what was right, not what was convenient.

And now, Sam Wilson holds that shield.

And the same people who claim to love America, who claim to respect its traditions, are furious that a Black man represents its ideals. Why? Because they were never invested in what Captain America stood for. They liked the image of him, but not the substance. They liked the power of the shield, but not the responsibility that came with it.

The reality is that America was always meant to be a work in progress.

It was never supposed to be frozen in time, locked in a 1950s nostalgia that never actually existed. It was supposed to grow, evolve, and become better.

Captain America embodies that struggle—the fight to hold America to its highest ideals, rather than letting it collapse under the weight of its worst instincts.

And that’s why this movie matters.

Because as much as people want to pretend otherwise, the American Dream is not dead. It’s being suffocated—by greed, by corruption, by political apathy.

But dreams don’t die if people keep fighting for them.

We are not powerless. We are not helpless. And we do not have to accept the version of America that the wealthy and powerful want to sell us.

This weekend, I’ll watch Captain America: Brave New World.

Not just because I love movies. Not just because I’m a fan of Marvel.

But because I need the reminder.

Because we all need the reminder.

The real fight isn’t in a movie theater. It’s in our communities, in our workplaces, in our voices, in our choices.

And that fight isn’t over yet.

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It’s available on Amazon for Kindle, Paperback, and Hardcover.