Being a Trans Harry Potter Fan in 2020 (and the harm JK Rowling’s Tweets have that not enough people are explaining)
As an autistic kid, getting me to focus on reading was as “simple” as finding a book I would hyper focus on and just letting me be— to say, I was pretty picky. Harry Potter gave me a freedom and a passion I hadn’t really felt to that point. I was the kid prancing around my grandparent’s house in robes made out of garbage bags and wearing uniform style vests to elementary school even though my Canadian school was far from having uniforms. For the first book and the last three books I can tell you exactly how I got my hands on them; and I have strong memories of seeing each of the movies in theatres. My books were flagged to my favourite quotes and important passages for “research” and I spent a large enough portion of my pre-teen and teen years on Harry Potter forums and role playing sites that my father mentioned it in his toast at my wedding years later.
For a kid who spent everyday being bullied, Harry getting to escape from the Dursley’s into a world where the things that were different about him made sense was definitely appealing. And while it took me years to identify myself as trans non-binary, these books got me through some very tough times— the pages of my copies still slightly stained with tears from terrible days, chocolate for comfort, carrot fingerprints from days that that carrot was all I ate and in places where my self harm and compulsive behaviours took over, my own blood. I held onto the idea that I was strong but that I was also young with so much darkness against me and I’ll never stop being grateful for how those stories got me through nights I had nothing else.
I don’t think I can quite explain the pain I experience each time JK Rowling posts a transphobic Tweet. Am I angry at myself for intertwining so much of my life with these stories? Am I frustrated that she doesn’t see the harm she’s doing by spreading misinformation around trans issues? Do I feel sorry for her because I can see the fear clutching tight to internalized misogyny that tells her the validity of her experience as a woman begins and ends with the genitals she was born with? Do I dare to feel hope when she says things about how trans people and women having similar experiences when it comes to facing male violence — because she’s so close to getting it?
I am a non binary trans person who menstruates. You may have no idea how important it is for companies, charities and society to recognize that “women” and “people who menstruate” when put on a Venn Diagram are not a circle. Not only are there men and non binary people who do menstruate, but there are also many women who don’t— whether it be trans women, women post menopause, women pre puberty, women with hormonal irregularities, women who have had hysterectomies, women who were born intersex and countless others, and those women are still valid as women too! The original tweet from JK Rowling this week was actively harmful because it was attacking a post with inclusive language, showing her between 14 and 15 million followers and anyone else who saw it that she feels that that distinction is laughable. This is already a distinction that so many people don’t understand, and this has amplified (amongst other things) the misogyny that validates womanhood based on menstruation and fertility.
JK Rowling spoke in subsequent Tweets about how she supported trans people but found sex an important part of describing her lived experience. She is a woman who has experienced descrimination because she is female and has a vagina; and honestly, that is valid. But I don’t see how being a non binary person with a vagina, and the intersections of oppressions I face, invalidates that. Or how a woman with a penis experiencing her life, oppressions and reality invalidates that either. I share experiences with others who were raised women, I share experiences with other trans people, I share experiences with people who menstruate and I share experiences with other non binary people; but that doesn’t mean that my experience of those intersections means that people who were raised women but aren’t trans aren’t valid or people who are non binary but don’t menstruate aren’t valid— they are just different experiences. And in case it needs to be made abundantly clear, trans women and cis women have some shared experiences, JK Rowling even touched on some of those herself.
As a light, it gave me the hope and strength I needed to keep going to see responses by Mara Wilson, Daniel Radcliffe, Scott Bryan and others validating some of my feelings. That trans women are definitely women. That it’s okay if we’re feeling let down, unheard, harmed and invalidated by JK Rowling. That it’s okay if we still hold onto Harry Potter as something that got us through the dark times. That it’s cool if we still think about how Tonks represents gender fluidity or how much it makes sense that Xenophilius and Pandora Lovegood were both trans. That it’s okay we still wear our house patches and scarfs (as an adult I am a Hufflepuff— it’s the house for the rest of us and those who value justice). Because the reality is that I love these stories and wouldn’t have made it to adulthood without them— but everytime I’m reminded that the author sees my existence as a threat to her womanhood my heart breaks a little more and my books get a little more tear stained.
