Sunday, June 11, 2017

On Wonder Woman.

I got lucky as a kid.

I got lucky as a kid because when I was in preschool, one of my teachers told my parents that they should never think of me as bossy, because I wasn't bossy. I had leadership skills, and minimizing that by calling me bossy wasn't something that anyone should ever do.

I got lucky as a kid because when I was eight, my mother stumbled across a book in Barnes and Noble and bought it for me because it had a red-headed girl and a cat and a horse on the cover. I got lucky as a kid because when I read that book a few months later, I met Alanna of Trebond. I got lucky as a kid because I met Alanna of Trebond and she introduced me to Veralidaine Sarrasri and Keladry of Mindelan and I learned that the world couldn't stop me from the things I put my mind to just because I was a girl.

I got lucky as a kid because I met Sabriel and Lirael and Lyssa and Menolly and learned that the world should never underestimate the power of a teenage girl. I got lucky as a kid because I watched Eowyn over and over again, because I didn't know what it meant at the time but I learned that "I am no man" is a battle cry, not something to be ashamed of.

I got lucky as a kid because I had my female heroes, because even as I read books and watched movies with boys at their helm, I had Alanna and Daine and Kel there to remind me that I didn't have to be a boy to do great things. I had Sabriel and Lirael to remind me that teenage girls can face incredible evils and win against them. I had Eowyn to remind me that being a woman doesn't make me weak—it makes me dangerous.

I grew up with high expectations, most of which I've set for myself. That which I deem just "good enough" is many people's version of "better than expected." It gets me into a spot of trouble every now and then—it's hard to remain relaxed about what's going on in your life when your version of acceptable is bordering on unnecessary—but it's served me well so far, and it's never been based on being better than those around me.

It's never been based on proving I was good enough to anyone else. To be perfectly honest, the only thing I've really had trouble with is proving that I'm good enough to myself.

I went to training for work in Cleveland this past week, and spent the weekend and the first half of the week being unable to take a deep breath. My anxiety is such that I suffer from a very real case of impostor syndrome, which manifests itself through my breathing most of the time even if I feel like it isn't bothering me. My expectations for myself are so high that I frequently feel like I'll never be able to match them, and that makes me forget that I don't have to meet those expectations in order for other people to be perfectly satisfied by what I'm doing.

I've gotten into plenty of stressful situations because of this tendency, but there are things that I do when it puts in an appearance (typically around midterms or finals, or other big life events like my internship). As I've mentioned before, I watch The Lord of the Rings, but I also reach for some books on my bookshelf, books that have been taped back together because of how tattered they are, books that contain notes from their authors on the title pages to remind me that yes, girls do rule, and yes, I can do this.

I met Tamora Pierce at the library in September of 2012, almost five years ago, now. I was sixteen years old and I went to hear her speak and we were told that we could bring up to four books for her to sign afterward, so I did. I couldn't bring some of my favorites, though, because one of them literally has duct tape covering the spine to hold the book together after I split it in two from reading it so much, and another's cover is Scotch-taped from where I accidentally ripped it during one of the many times that I was carrying it around in my bag.

I confessed that to her when I met her, that I hadn't brought the books that I really wanted to bring, and I won't forget what she told me—she loves seeing books that are like that, because that's how she knows that their readers really, truly love them. That's how she knows that they mean something.

I've all but destroyed those books because they've always been there to remind me that I can get through anything, that I should never be discouraged just because I'm a girl, that I may have to fight harder or work longer or have a hundred times more belief in myself, but no one can stop me from doing things just because I'm not a man.

Today I saw Wonder Woman, and while I cried at the end for story-related reasons (no spoilers!!), there were several moments during the movie where I either did cry or almost cried simply because of what I was watching. I cried when I saw Robin Wright on screen as a badass general and not the princess of my childhood, because I adore The Princess Bride but it meant so much more to see a leader and a fighter instead of a tied-up blonde.

I cried multiple times watching Diana fight, and even just when I was watching her make decisions and refuse to take no for an answer, because I had my female heroes as a kid, but not like that. Not on such a large scale. Not headlining their own blockbuster Hollywood movie. There are a lot of people in the world who love Tamora Pierce's books, and plenty who love Sabriel and Lirael and the Old Kingdom series, but those things have never been on a scale like this (much as I wish they were).

I was crying because I didn't get to see my heroes like that, but there are eight-year-old girls now who will. There are little girls who have walked and are going to walk into that movie theater and come out having watched a movie with the female protagonist that they deserve, one who isn't the butt of jokes or made out to be some jerk's fantasy, but instead one who kicks ass and takes charge and stands on her own without having to let go of being in love and being a person in the process.

There are little girls who get to see their hero on an international stage, and the movie industry can no longer pretend to nobody wants to watch movies with female heroes. The movie industry can no longer pretend that it's enough to push us to the background, to make us side characters, to not give us full narratives because "it won't sell."

Well, guess what?

We just got a movie with a female lead and a female director. We just got a movie that has made over $400 million dollars worldwide (and counting), a movie certified 93% fresh on Rotten Tomatoes, a movie that was humor and inspiration and sadness and brilliance all rolled into one, a movie that girls will be watching over and over again in the way that I've reread my books and repeatedly watched Eowyn slay the Witch King of Angmar, because it's a reminder that girls really are unstoppable.

Wonder Woman was the hero we needed, but more than that, she was hands down, 100%, absolutely, truly the hero that so many girls have deserved.

I'm glad that we aren't waiting for her anymore.