Years ago, I stocked a retail display of mysterious merchandise in celestial packaging. Someone had written a book about a wizard, and a movie was coming out. I found out it was a woman writing under her initials, presumably to conceal her identity since many readers shun women authors, and of course the main character was a boy because books about girls are for girls but books about boys are for everyone (according to people other than me). I hadn’t known about the circumstances she overcame and dismissed her as a sell-out (as an aside, my parents named me Alexandra so I could apply for jobs as Alex).
Years later I followed J.K. Rowling online because she sometimes had insightful things to say. One day somebody responded to a tweet about feminism with a nasty attack on her private life. I had some awareness of her past trauma and I knew others with similar stories. With them in mind, I called him out for being rude. I didn’t expect Rowling to see it, but she thanked me for my kindness. Someone said I only did it because she was famous. I said I would have done it for anyone. I decided to read Harry Potter. The beginning was great, but it wasn’t until the third or fourth book that I really enjoyed them. Then characters entered their teen years, and things got awkward.
Girls buying love spells?
Surely Hogwarts had rules against it! Er, no. No, they did not. When one character almost died from a love spell gone wrong, the perpetrator didn’t get in trouble because she didn’t know the spell was tainted. The violation was otherwise fine. The books always courted controversy for fear they’d lead children to the bad influence of paganism. The irony is that if you asked a real world practitioner for a love spell, they’d likely tell you: 1) you can do things to attract love, but you can’t interfere with free will, and 2) even if you could interfere with free will, it’s wrong.
Then I got to the part about Voldemort’s mother using magic on his father. Dumbledore asks Harry not to judge her too harshly, but I judged her very harshly indeed. I was starting to wonder about Rowling, too. Yes, characters are rarely a reflection of authors, but it’s Dumbledore. When Rowling’s anti-trans views came to light, it started making sense. A lot of like-minded people minimize sexual assault when the victim is male. And it’s not just that she views trans women as men, but that she views men as inherently dangerous. Yet she allies with provocateurs like Matt Walsh who accuse feminists of male bashing to bully others.
Scapegoating the trans community intensified after the US Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade. If you want to prevent people from challenging your authority, you make them fight each other (similar to people instigating conflict between minorities to deflect from discussions of white supremacy). Overturning Roe v. Wade may be intended as an attack on women, but the consequences of denying bodily autonomy extend to everyone. Similarly, the consequences of attacking the trans community hurt us all and disproportionately impact minorities.
And how, after all we learned about the sexual abuse of US gymnasts, did Ohio decide the best way to protect girls is subjecting them to more invasive exams? Honestly!
People who treat us like pieces of meat are not on our side. I’m reminded of the vitriol toward a woman who had a preventative mastectomy back in the day. Someone asked how she expected to find a man, assuming she even wanted one. Reducing our identities to our body parts is dehumanizing.
