Harrison Bergeron rebelled in the eponymously titled Kurt Vonnegut story to literally and figuratively throw off the chains of mediocrity slapped on him by the Handicapper General and a society that demands equality by reducing each individual to a lowest common denominator. 

Literally, Harrison was greater than the rest of society. He was bigger ("He was exactly seven feet tall"). and had "outgrown his hindrances faster than the g-e men could think them up." In addition, Harrison was more handsome than the rest of society and had to "wear at all times a red rubber ball for a nose, keep his eyebrows shaved off, and cover his even white teeth with black caps at snaggle-tooth random." And, finally, he was more intelligent and had to, "Instead of a little ear radio for a mental handicap, he wore a tremendous pair of earphones."

But these handicaps did little for keeping Harrison's desire to show his greatness aside. Instead of him being okay with wearing his handicaps, like his father is, Harrison snaps off his handicaps "like celery" and leaps so high that he kisses the ceiling. 

Harrison represents the desire to rip off the social constrictions placed by a society that rewards conformity, which, by its definition, is a reduction of the self.