Thank You, Patty Jenkins and Gal Gadot

Wonder Woman

This, for the most part, is a Magic and Judging blog.  That is why I started, those items are the ones I talk about the most, and this is the place that I process the things that happen at judging events.

But something magical happened in an entirely different way last night and I need to talk about it.

I finally got the female led super hero movie I have needed my entire life.

For whatever reason, as I’ve traveled through my 3o years on this planet, I’ve always been drawn to what a large portion of the population refer to as ‘male’ hobbies.  I’m an avid video gamer when the time allows, always enjoyed science fiction movies, was huge into Batman once I discovered the animated series when I was ten (still, easily, the best animated serial about any super hero ever), and obviously fell into playing this game who’s player base is largely male, white, and straight.

This demographic majority often means that a lot of the things I enjoy are seen through the eyes of someone of that race and gender which translates to a lot of women or women characters used as objects, or prizes, or tropes, or props to build up a man’s confidence.  We only see them or their story used in a way that betters the lead male character.  Or, in the case of video games and some cards games (though not current Magic art ❤ ) we get objectified women characters that are only their for the enticement of the male gaze.  I lost count of how many times I heard from a male player in the MMO World of Warcraft who was only playing a female character because, ‘If I’m going to stare at someone’s ass for hours on end I’d rather it be a chick’s.” *  I’ve recently finished Horizon Zero Dawn and I was so happy about playing a non-sexualized female video game lead that I often had the sniffles during the play through.

In the most recent decade of my life superheroes have gone from being part of a subculture to blasting into pop culture fame.  We’ve had absolutely fantastic superhero movies that have kept you on the edge of your seat while also pulling at your heart strings.  The Winter Soldier is a personal favorite because of how much in touch with his feelings Steve Rogers gets.  Shockingly (can you sense my sarcasm?), these movies were very male centric, with both (hey at least there were two!) female characters playing supportive roles as well as love interests.  And don’t get me started with Black Widow’s treatment in Age of Ultron.

Fun fact, being unable to bear children sure as shit doesn’t make you some kind of monster.  We’re not simply baby factories.

Despite the problematic treatment of female super heroes in major movies, I was still hopeful that we would get a female superhero movie where things wouldn’t be as bad.  I waited for Marvel to give me a Black Widow movie after the success the Avengers as they were clearly in the lead for successful big screen super hero adaptations. (Instead they produced toys that excluded Black Widow from their toy line, citing that girl’s don’t care about super heroes or some other pedantic bullshit.)

Then there were rumblings that the Batman Versus Superman movie was going to have a cameo that would make me happy.  I still remember the goosebumps I felt when she I watched the first trailer with Wonder Woman in it. After being subjected to that movie, myself and most of the people I knew, decided that Wonder Woman was the best part of the movie and by not a small margin.

Then we got the news: a Wonder Woman solo movie had been green lit.  I was filled with both joy and despair.  Finally, someone had decided to listen to the female (and non-binary and in a smaller percentage, the male) fans who had been clamoring for a female centered movie for ages.

However…

Historically female characters have not been handled well.  I’ve already mentioned my dislike of Whedon’s handling of Black Widow.  Most superhero movies where female heroes even make an appearance, they’re put there to fulfill the ‘badass strong female character’ check mark, and nothing more.  They’re rarely offered as much depth as their male counterparts and a lot of times it feels like they just get added so the studio can claim diversity without actually practicing what the preach.  (I cannot wait for the Black Panther movie for all the same reasons; superhero fans are not just white so neither should their superhero movies be all white either.)  There was a large chance my hero was going to be sexualized and transformed into something for men to oogle more than the strong superhero I had read so much about.

Enter Patty Jenkins.  My hype increased ten-fold.  Not only was I getting a female led super hero movie but a woman was also directing it?  Sign me the fuck up.  Now I knew, regardless of the initial reviews, I was going to see it opening weekend, if only to support their decision to place a woman at the helm of a superhero movie.  Overall, Hollywood is still an old boy’s club in a lot of aspects so any chance to support at not (old) white guy I’ll take.  (A great example of this recently was ‘Get Out’ which was directed by Jordan Peele, one of the few horror movies I’ve actively enjoyed and overall a great movie.)

Fast forward to release weekend and the reviews start to trickle in.  The whisper permeating social media that it’s good starts to build into a dull roar and then it’s revealed that Wonder Woman has achieved the coveted above 90 rating on Rotten Tomatoes. (At the time of writing this, the rating was still at 93%.)  My excitement was growing and my friends were returning from the theater with exultations of joy.

That’s how I felt once the credits started rolling: joyful, ecstatic, and emotional.  I had cried during the movie and I cried once it was over.  You may be wondering I was so emotional and I myself couldn’t really put my finger on it until this morning.

Wonder Woman was not a superhero movie designed for a man; Wonder Woman was a superhero movie designed for us all.

It portrayed her as, if nothing else, human.  She was herself.  She was not there as some love interest for a man (though there was love in the movie, that was not her sole purpose for existing).  She was not there as someone’s mother, or sister, or cousin.  She did not have to be tied to a man in order to be found worthy.  She was strong and powerful but was not simply given martial prowess to fulfill some rule that all superhero movies have a ‘strong, female character’ but because it was her cultural heritage.  There was no gratuitous but shot; no super low-cut or cut out costume to show cleavage that defies physics.

The Amazons themselves were all different body types and no less strong.  They were scarred, and aged, and not just white (though the movie as a whole could’ve had a more diverse cast as much Hollywood blockbusters can).  They made no excuse for their strength, but reveled in it in a way that was refreshing.  They were not strong because that might interest a man but strong because they wanted to be strong.

That’s why Wonder Woman was so important: she was not made for men alone.  She was not there to be a sexual object for a man but more as an inspiration for woman.

I shared a picture recently on Facebook of a small girl in a Wonder Woman tiara and shirt with a pink tutu who is staring up at Wonder Woman on a cardboard advertisement for the Justice League.  She is why this movie matters so much; so that the girls and young women who see this movie see a heroine who’s not just in the movie as the final prize for the male superhero, but is instead there because she can save the world her own damn self; that she is not just an accessory to boost the male hero’s ego.

It wasn’t perfect; I had some issues with how the female villain was handled (THOUGH THANK THE GODS SHE WAS NOT THE VILLAIN BECAUSE WONDER WOMAN STOLE HER MAN OR SOMETHING. FILMMAKERS, THAT TROPE SHOULD BE DEAD AND BURIED) and I wasn’t so keen on the casting of Ares, though I won’t reveal who that was for the sack of spoilers.

At the end of the day, though, its positive attributes outweigh its flaws by one hundred percent.

Thank you Gal Gadot for portraying the kind of Wonder Woman I have always pictured in my mind.  Thank you for giving her fire, and courage, and anger, and emotion.

And thank you so much Patty Jenkins for directing a movie that left me in tears; that reminded me to not give up the fight for diversity and representation in mainstream culture.  Thank you for giving me both Princess Diana, Princess of Themyscira and Wonder Woman, two different sides of this heroine who has moved past her questionable origins to being a representation of female self-empowerment.

Thank you so much for giving me the woman led super hero movie I wanted but didn’t know that I, and women everywhere, needed so much.

*This was paraphrased and pieced together from the multiple ways I heard it.

**Big shout out to Big Hero Vince for letting me use his Wonder Woman image!  Check out his amazing cosplay and prop making on Instagram!

Keep Your Thoughts and Prayers

Trigger warning: violence, gun violence

I sat down yesterday and tried to write.  I organized an amazing charity tournament at my local game store for the animal shelter nearby.  We raised a bunch of money and donated a mountain of supplies that filled and then spilled over their donation boxes.  The volunteers and staff members were full of bright shining smiles and thanks for our efforts.  But no matter how many times I started to write, I couldn’t seem to get the words out.

Which is why this post is about something else entirely.  These are going to be non-Magic waters we’re treading in.

I figured out why I can’t write about the amazing things my players did on Sunday.

I’m angry.  In fact, I am seething.

Unless you’re living under a rock, you’ve heard of the heart wrenching tragedy in Orlando.  Fifty lives were taken away from us.  Fifty futures cut short by a bigot with too much access to firearms.  Fifty of my brothers and sisters shot down while they were celebrating their lives.  ‘The worst mass shooting in United States history’ they’re calling it.

Because an angry man with an agenda had access to weapons no civilian should be able to get their hands on.

It has stricken me to my core.

I’m bisexual, a fact not widely known, and in my world, who a person loves is the business of the person and their lover.  Period.  Now I feel like if I ever found the woman of my dreams, we could get shot on the street for holding hands, for holding hands, because someone decides that their personal feelings outweigh the sanctity of my life.

That’s exactly what this was:  a hate crime. A man decided that his view of the world is more important than the happiness of others.  His entitlement led to these murders and whatever ties he may or may not have with terrorist organizations notwithstanding.  His was an agenda of fear and hatred, one which is working.  The vitriol I have seen flowing out of the people’s mouths about individuals following the Muslim faith makes angry and sick.  By focusing on that, you are taking away the real root of the problem: homophobia and way too much access to guns.

I wish I could say that this is the first shooting to affect me on a personal level, but it’s not.  And that makes me even angrier.

I remember sitting on the floor of my babysitter’s house as the news covered the tragedy at Columbine.  The image of the student climbing out of a second story window with bloodied jeans will stay with me until I die.  I was too young to process the fear and sadness I felt.  School was a safe place, school was a place for learning but now I would never look at school the same way.

I was scared to go my school for a week.

I was attending classes at Virginia Tech in the spring of 2007.  My idyllic college experience was shattered when another individual (I refuse to name the shooter), who had no business with a gun, stole the lives of 32 Hokies.  So many lives cut short before really finding themselves, professors who guided and inspired.  I remember the fear of not knowing where my friends were, of messages sent but not replied to, of phone calls that would ring and go to voice mail.  Even typing these words, the pain and panic comes back.

That was supposed to be the end. It was the worst mass shooting in America’s history at the time. This was the event that was supposed push this issue to the forefront of Congress and something was going to done.  After all, we read and heard ‘our thoughts and prayers are with Virginia Tech’ and ‘Today, we are all Virginia Tech’ so that had to mean changes were coming, right

Weeks passed, and we still hurt but the world slowly moved on and the politicians who gained publicity from our grief were now conspicuously silent.  We have continued to mourn for nine long years and nothing has changed.

In fact, it has gotten worse.

My second year teaching we had a lockdown at my middle school. A sixth grader noticed one of his fellow students place a gun in a locker and ran to tell security.  The fear and pain came back as I sat with my middle schoolers against the wall and under desks, my body between them and the door, ready and waiting to spring up if needed.  ‘Are we going to be the next sad headline?’ shot through my head as we waited.

That student saved the life of every person in school that day, but that should not be the reality we live in, where an 11-year-old can find a gun that easily.

Then Sandy Hook happened.  Someone broke the news to me while I was teaching conjugations to my eighth graders and I had to step out of the room to compose myself.  Later that night I read the accounts of teachers who saved and tried to save their students and my heart bled again.  These too were my people and they were taken from me too soon.  Children, who are the future of the world, snatched away by a man wielding semi-automatic weapons he should have had no access to.

This time, I thought.  These were children!  Young children, who no one could blame from existing.  Young teachers had lost their lives in a career where that should never be a threat.  Now, we’ll see those thoughts and prayers turned into actions.

I remember the anger, the sadness, the shouts for change.  I remember them fading away as time went on and nothing changing.

Today, June 14th, is the 166th day of the year.  We have had more mass shootings than days in the year, the number sitting at 179 as of 11am. No other first world country has this problem.  Period.  You can do the research yourself and discover this fact easily.  Why is it here of all countries that changes never happen?  I know why, but I am one voice who can’t compete with the pockets being lined by the NRA.

I don’t want your fucking prayers.  I don’t want your fucking thoughts.  I don’t want any one-shot statuses on Facebook only to forget next week.  I don’t want one more moment of silence.  I don’t want to see another vigil.  I don’t want to watch another president give a speech about this kind of tragedy.

I don’t want to be murdered for my job, where I go to school, who I love.

Keep your thoughts and prayers and moments of silence and give me a world where I don’t have to live in fear of being part of the next mass shooting headline.