Why J.K. Rowling's Words Hurt So Much

It always takes me forever to find the right words for something like this, but I think I finally have.

Last summer, fans of the Wizarding World of Harry Potter turned on its creator. 

J.K. Rowling

J.K. Rowling released a series of tweets, which to the eyes and minds of many, appeared to be "transphobic". This, of course, led to an onslaught of accusations against her on Twitter over the succeeding months. The peak of the outrage crescendo, however, arrived when that open letter appeared in the Atlantic Monthly calling out so-called "cancel culture" and urging renewed advocacy of Free Speech, and Rowling's name stood among the signatories. 

Now, I'm not here to defend her, nor will I condemn her. I've read her tweets, and I can see fully why those who accuse her of transphobia might well do so. There was an implication of it, certainly, but the tweets, were not as on-the-nose as say, Germaine Greer saying that, "Trans women aren't women." (I'd advise you to read them if you haven't so as to make an informed opinion.)

Whether or not she is or isn't transphobic (I believe the proper term is TERF, meaning Trans-Exclusive Radical Feminist), is up for her to deny or clarify. I don't know the woman and won't claim to know her mind. 

However, I can claim to understand why even the possibility of her holding these views and expressing such views with her powerful, public voice hurts a great deal.

Let me state this from the outset. I love the Harry Potter books. They have their flaws, absolutely, but they're still a fun read to this day.

I, like many children across the world who grew up as the books appeared on the shelves, grew up reading and loving the Harry Potter books. Each new installment was a new adventure with this cast of characters who I came to know so well, as if they were neighbors or old friends. The books, and the film adaptations, were a true keystone of my childhood and adolescence. I go so far as to say, they helped me survive the emotional turbulence of my adolescence, and that, without them, I might not be here now.

To understand the outrage, one must understand the place from where it stems. In this case, it stems from a place of heartbreak. 

The story of Harry Potter is, on a thematic level, a story about inclusivity, diversity, and accepting of difference. The villains of the story are Death Eaters--basically wizard, white supremacists, who believe that their ability to use magic makes them better and superior to both Muggle-born wizards (that's Wizards born of non-magical parents), and non-magical people (i.e. Muggles), period. More so, even within the magical world, those who have "pure blood," meaning those who are of families with no Muggle ancestry are considered the best of the best.

THESE ARE THE BAD GUYS. 

Meanwhile, the characters we root for are this ragtag group of different "blood statuses" and backgrounds, and they TRIUMPH over the wizard Nazis.

It's a classic story of good winning over evil, and love and inclusivity winning over prejudice and bigotry.

Readers of all identities growing up (because you're never fully aware of these things as a kid), subliminally responding to this. Not only that, we found refuge in this world where, no matter "what you were" so to speak, you could find a place for yourself within it. 

So, the idea that the author, the person who wrote that story, is bigoted against any group of people, let alone the group within the LGBTQIA+ conglomerate who has taken the worst political and social bashing of all (I'm talking about Trans-people), over the last 4 years, is simply shattering. 

It's not just shattering; it's discombobulating. It's a cause of cognitive dissonance within the mind and heart of every childhood fan of these books. How could she, who wrote that, be like that?

If those who can't seem to stop from defending her words, or saying that she has a right to speak her mind (which she does, but I'm not arguing that point), can't understand the outrage that arose from seeing things this way, then I don't know how else to possibly explain it.

Many people who refuse to believe Rowling is indeed transphobic have pushed the argument that the art and the artist are two different things. It's one thing, however, to say that when the author is dead; it's another when they're still alive and micromanaging their creation via a massive Wiki-like website and new film projects. Again, I'm not certain she is, but there's plenty of evidence to suggest it in her words. 

People who struggle, not just within themselves, but within their society's norms, to claim their identity, the one they know to be truly reflective of who they are, always have a chip on their shoulder. Once they've figured out who they are and what they are, they'll suffer no fools who dare have the gumption to tell them otherwise. 

That they're "going through a phase". 

That they're "misunderstood". 

That who and what they are is an abomination or a distortion of reality. 

Woe unto you if you make this mistake, regardless of your fame or fortune. If you have the audacity to tell someone what their identity is "non-existent," "invalid," or "wrong," good luck cleaning the shit off your cloths after it hits the fan and splatters over you.

Everyone, has the freedom to hold and express whatever views they wish, but it doesn't mean they're free from critique. Other people have the right to express their disagreement and their outrage at what you put into the world. And when you mix freedom of speech with heartbreak and anger, you get a powerful cocktail of outrage. 

Still, there's always hope. Hope for change and hope for understanding. The opportunity is never truly lost until your sojourn through this vale of tears is over. 

Maybe Rowling--if the accusations are true--will take the chance to change; only she, though, can make that decision and try to understand. Only with understanding can forgiveness be possible, but that's on her shoulders to undertake.