My father used to sing a song, "You have to learn to hate, when you're 6, 7 and 8.
Once when I played little league, a 10 year old on the other team was hispanic and one parent was shouting racial insults at him. I looked at the umpires, the coaches, the other parents, and saw they did nothing. I remember wishing my dad was there. A few minutes later, apparently my father got there from work, and he was holding that asshole off the ground with one hand.

That was the first time I saw how strong he was, and it was an act of compassion. He taught me that my Mom was a genius, and taught me to treat woman with respect. I was incredibly lucky.

Comic books taught me to read.