In elementary school, my friends and I often debated who was the greatest superhero of all time. While my fellow eleven-year-olds fervently argued that the likes of Batman or Superman were unbeatable, I sat back knowing a singular truth: Charlie Brown could take them. Charlie Brown as the greatest superhero ever? It sounds strange, but I’m confident he’s special. I’ll return to what makes him unique in a moment. First, let me explain how I was introduced to this comic strip icon.

When I was seven, an oncologist named Dr. Wiltsie knelt down beside me and told me I had Stage Four cancer, and that there was a cantaloupe-sized tumor in my left kidney. After bursting into tears, I eventually managed to ask my parents what kidneys were.

For the next year, I drifted between Roswell Park Cancer Institute’s surgical and pediatric wards, an IV perpetually in my rum.

It was then that I discovered Charlie Brown. During long chemo sessions, when I wasn’t telling my dad I looked better bald than he did, I read. Comics were a favorite, and although laughing hurt, I couldn’t resist the exploits of a fellow bald kid and the Peanuts gang.

That was when I began to recognize what I’ve dubbed the “Charlie Brown Mentality.” Although we see this cartoon defeatist as the epitome of melancholy and pessimism, during my “studies” I realized he has a remarkable approach to life.

First, there’s Charlie Brown’s resilience. Even after repeatedly failing, he never quits. Although he knows Lucy will pull the football away, he still runs at it. While his kites always end up in trees, he won’t stop flying them. He knows that he’ll get a rock when he goes trick-or-treating, but he still goes anyway.

My own resilience began in the pediatric ward. I wondered how to continue, how to face another round of chemo. But I’d think about Charlie Brown, and realize if he didn’t abandon his dream of kicking the football, I couldn’t give up on mine of becoming cancer-free. While relearning to walk or, years later, fine-tuning school newspaper articles, I turned to the boy from Peanuts whenever I felt like quitting.

Then there’s Charlie Brown’s empathy. As an underdog himself, he knows what it’s like to struggle. When Snoopy is upset about the Red Baron destroying his doghouse, or Linus is teased about his blanket, Charlie Brown steps up for them-because he understands.

His empathy has served as a blueprint for my own. Talking to other patients, I learned of multi-year battles and families who couldn’t afford treatment. These interactions opened my eyes, reminding me that as bad as things seem for me, they’re often worse for others. Just like Charlie Brown’s empathy drives him to stand up for Linus, mine compels me to volunteer and share my story – efforts that have raised over $10,000 to fight cancer.

Finally, there’s perspective. Because Charlie Brown has been down so often, he recognizes and appreciates the good times. While Snoopy sometimes gets on his nerves, he’s always grateful for his beagle.

My own perspective came after treatment. Reflecting on my journey, I realize how lucky I am to have the chances I do. At Roswell, I met kids-friends-who lost their battles. Their stories give me not just an appreciation for life, but a determination to make the most of it.

Whether I’m on the tennis court or studying late, I think of them and feel pushed to maximize every opportunity. That awareness – that even life isn’t guaranteed – drives me to give my best in everything I do.

Cancer hasn’t defined me, but I do believe that it has made me a better person. Without it, I wouldn’t have learned and adopted Charlie Brown’s lessons.

So yes, maybe Charlie Brown isn’t the most impressive superhero. But he’s been the most influential one in my life, and I hope to continue living by his teachings. One day Charlie Brown will kick his football. And I’ll be there, kicking mine.