I call this entry "Dumbledore Revisited" because about ten years ago, when I was 15, I was on a panel of teenagers that my local newspaper printed, called "Truth of Youth," in which we answered questions put forth by our editor or the readers. I was asked what I thought of the then-recent announcement of Professor Dumbledore from the Harry Potter series being gay.
Back then, I was confused about what I thought, or should think, about LGBTQ issues, but desperately wanted to believe that God was not someone who burned people in hell for something that harmed no one and gave people love and happiness. I desperately wanted to be a Christian, too, but I just couldn't see how I could ever read my bible or pray any more. It was not a good time in my life.
I also had conservative relatives who read my entries faithfully, and I was not at all ready for the religious onslaught that would await me if I dared to voice my hopes about God aloud; or my uncertainty that homophobia was right at all; or my own confusion in this matter. I just wanted to figure this out for myself, and not be told what to believe or what was true (according to them). And I wasn't ready to give this issue much thought at all, because it was so emotional to think about--much less to say these things aloud. I didn't want to serve a sexist and homophobic God, who had more rules for women than for men, and who insisted on his own way, even at the expense of others' love and happiness. And most of all, I didn't want to believe God was like that. This issue was all wrapped up in the issue of my own faith, and the crisis I was going through at the time (and still am, sometimes).
I did not know what to do. I was stuck. I thought it was annoying, that Rowling had simply made that announcement without actually putting it in the text. I thought she was just trying to get more attention and therefore sell more books. But I secretly wanted to be gay-affirming. I did not know any gay people at the time (that I know of, of course--and other than my mom's lesbian coworker, who was fired shortly after Mom started working there). It was so foreign to me, the experience of being gay. (My, how times have changed!)
But I liked to read about other people's experiences, which I think saved me from being indoctrinated by my Christian school, even after I started homoschooling (I left that typo in, because it actually seems to make my point even clearer). And it was hard to imagine growing up gay in a conservative or homophobic home. (Boy, was I clueless! Bisexuality must be the most confusing sexuality, because your straight side fools you for so long.)
But I felt compassion for these people, even if I couldn't imagine their struggles and feelings. And I hoped that God would not punish love (or femaleness).
This must be part of why LGBT issues are so personal and dear to me--because in addition to affecting me and those I love, it also reminds me of this struggling, uncertain time in my life. Even just writing about this is more emotional for me than I thought it would be.
What I said back then was, "Well, I don't know who Dumbledore even is, but if he's gay and happy with himself, more power to him! His lifestyle doesn't affect my life, so why should I care what he is?"
It was the shortest answer I had ever given. They wanted us to typically keep our answers around 150 words.
I meant it, too. I thought Rowling was trying to sell more books, and she may have been. But I hated Christians' efforts to change or pester gay people. I wished that they would leave them alone. I wished a lot of things. This was before I discovered the very freeing fact that bible scholars had different theories for how God inspired the bible, and not all of them were literal! My life changed, the day I read that in a very conservative (A-beka) Christian curriculum. I was finally free! I knew that no good god would ever inspire homophobia and sexism, after all.
But this was before I read that interesting little fact...so I quietly, secretly disagreed with the bible, and with God, if he inspired it. I couldn't help being born female, after all, and so shouldn't have additional rules, restrictions, and burdens. And the gays were harming no one, so why shouldn't they be allowed to simply live their own lives?
Now I am about halfway through the sixth book in the Harry Potter series, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. And the only indication, so far, that I have seen of Dumbledore's sexuality is based on a stereotype. Through magical memory peering, Harry sees a much younger Dumbledore, wearing a "flamboyantly cut" plum velvet suit. Now, I get the appeal, since I own a pair of plum velvet overalls. But I doubt that a straight man would have the courage to wear a suit of such material, though straight wizards may dress like Oscar Wilde all the time.
And though I'm glad that Rowling took a stand in favor of...acknowledging that gay people exist and can be good, I guess?...and I did not appreciate at the time how hard it might be to do so--I can't help but be disappointed. This isn't exactly representation. This isn't exactly having two young wizards or witches cuddling up and holding hands in Hogsmeade (a nearby village to the magic school, which the older students take trips into) on Valentine's Day. This isn't exactly a trans-wizard or trans-witch going to St Mungo's (a magical hospital) for magical gender reassignment. This isn't exactly a student feeling like a witch one day, a wizard the next, and acting or looking accordingly.
Everything about this is so frustrating! I have no idea how much control Rowling really had over her writing, especially when it became successful and was picked up by Scholastic Publishing. But this is not enough!
For goodness' sake, I shouldn't have to be grateful for the scraps of recognition we get, that aren't even in print. I know this was ten years ago, but LGBTQ representation is still woefully lacking--even magical LGBTQ representation!
I cannot believe how my feelings about this have changed. I used to think that people were forcing gay or trans characters into media, in order to win points with certain people. But now I see the controversy whenever any character is even hinted to be LGBTQ.
Now, when there is an LGBTQ character or gay romance or coming out story, I eat that shit up. I specifically seek out entertainment with these storylines. I write about Buzz and Woody as a couple, and Bo and Jessie as a couple, and gay and transgender superheroes. I can't get enough of it.
I get so sick of most straight couples in media, who have practically no chemistry except for being in close proximity to each other, and maybe hating each other (yeah, that's healthy!). And nothing brings out my lesbian side more than straight women in movies and tv whining or talking all about guys. And now that I know I'm not straight, I know how much I'm erased.
And I consume all of the real and fictional coming out and romance stories that I can, because I want to learn as much as I can about this subject. I have only known I was bisexual for about two years now. And I have a feeling that this is a subject that one may never stop learning about. The more I learn, the more I want to learn.
And I want all of the media I consume to have characters like me. I don't want to be left out of love stories, or any stories. I want to be represented, or have people similar to me represented.
And in one of my now-favorite series, there is not one indication save for dressing like a typical wizard--Lockhart in the second book was more stereotypically "gay." (With his flamboyant dress and his flirtations with his hordes of middle-aged female fans, he was probably based on Liberace, in fact--my own theory.)
Not one throwaway line about a man Dumbledore was in love with or something. And his time is running out--I know our ONE single gay character out of hundreds, who is apparently supposed to represent transgender people too, bites it at the end of the book I'm reading.
So I changed my mind--I DO care about the announcement that Dumbledore is gay. And I hate it!
I hate it--because it had to be an announcement. It is almost-inclusion. And almost-inclusion is simply not good enough. It's not even almost good enough.
This is so very frustrating!
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