I didn't know too much about his comic book history. I know that

Hear the words of Ray Fisher, who spoke of his discovery: “I didn’t know too much about his comic book history. I know that in ‘Teen Titans,’ he’s much more the comedic relief. But after reading the comic book iteration of Cyborg in ‘The New Teen Titans’ from the 1980s that Marv Wolfman and George Pérez had worked on, I saw that there was a lot of texture to the character.” These words carry within them the wisdom of awakening—the realization that what is first seen on the surface may only be a shadow of a deeper truth.

For Fisher admits that his first knowledge of Cyborg came from the animated world, where the hero often played the role of laughter and lightheartedness, a figure beloved for joy rather than for sorrow. But when he turned to the work of Wolfman and Pérez, he discovered another face of the same man: a character not of one note but of many, not merely comic relief but a soul marked by struggle, identity, and the ache of humanity transformed by machine. Thus, Fisher learned that behind every mask, every character, and indeed every person, there are depths unseen by casual eyes.

This moment of discovery is the true origin of his quote—the shift from surface to depth, from stereotype to texture. And this is no small lesson, for it reminds us that in life, as in art, we often judge too quickly. We see a laugh and call someone “lighthearted,” yet we do not see the burdens they carry in silence. We hear the strength in their voice and think them unbreakable, yet we miss the wounds that carved that strength into them. Fisher’s reflection on Cyborg is thus a reflection on humanity itself: that each life is layered, each story textured, each being more complex than their first impression.

History offers us many such examples. Consider the figure of Marcus Aurelius, remembered by some only as an emperor. Yet when one turns to his Meditations, one finds not a man of power alone, but a soul wrestling with doubt, grief, and the search for virtue. Like Cyborg, Marcus was not defined by a single role; he carried both the crown of empire and the weight of human fragility. To know only the emperor is to know little; to read his inner thoughts is to see the texture of his character.

Fisher’s discovery also reveals the sacred labor of storytellers like Wolfman and Pérez, who dared to write heroes not as flawless beings but as fractured, struggling, human. For it is in this texture—the blend of strength and weakness, triumph and pain—that readers find themselves. A flat hero is worshiped from afar, but a textured one is embraced as kin. Cyborg, half-man and half-machine, is more than a warrior; he is a mirror for all who feel divided, torn between worlds, struggling to find wholeness.

The lesson is clear: do not dismiss what you think you know. Whether it is a character, a story, or a person, seek the deeper layers. Read beyond the surface, ask the questions that reveal pain and hope, and do not be satisfied with shallow impressions. In your own life, resist being a caricature of yourself; cultivate texture, complexity, and truth. Be willing to embrace your struggles as part of your identity, for it is they that give you depth and make your story resonate with others.

So let Ray Fisher’s words be carried forward as teaching: seek the texture of things. In art, in people, in yourself, go beyond the surface. For it is only when we honor the full depth of a soul that we begin to truly understand it. The animated laughter of Teen Titans may draw us in, but the layered humanity of The New Teen Titans keeps us there, reminding us that behind every mask lies a story worth knowing, and within every life lies a depth waiting to be seen.