Falling Out of Love with the Harry Potter Fandom

(TW: Transphobia. I was thinking about writing this after my Anime Pride Month posts are done, but it’s fresh in my mind and I just wanted to say something now when people still might actually care about it.)

When I was in third grade, I did my first book report on Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. I was the first kid in my school to even read the damn thing and I couldn’t stop talking about how amazing it was. The world of mystery and magic sucked me in, and I related a lot to the main trio of Harry, Ron and especially Hermione. They were three misfit kids who didn’t fit in in the “real” world, but found a place where they could be themselves and have adventures with people who were just like them.

From childhood to my late teens, I was a Harry Potter obsessive. I read each book the day it came out, saw all the movies, and even went to the theme park at Universal Studios Florida. Like so many of my generation, Harry Potter made me fall in love with reading, gave me something to bond over in my tumultuous teenage years, and helped me become a more worldly and compassionate person.

As I got older, though, the magic of Harry Potter lost its sparkle. Compared to the earlier books, the later ones felt bloated and full of unnecessary romantic drama. Morally questionable plot points, like the house elves being so chill about slavery or the goblins being anti-Semitic stereotypes, became more apparent over time. “Expanded universe” stories like the Fantastic Beasts films did nothing for me (even if Newt Scamander is a surprisingly decent autistic character). But the thing that made me fall out of love with the Harry Potter fandom, more than anything else, was actually author J.K. Rowling herself.

Most Potterheads are familiar with ol’ Jo’s Twitter obsession. Over the years, she’s made a bunch of weird retcons to her already-finished story, like saying that Dumbledore was gay, Hermione is actually black, wizards used magic to get rid of their poop, and Donald Trump is more evil than Voldemort. (OK, that last one is probably true.)

But her support of TERFs (Transphobic, Evil, Reactionary Fart-heads) on social media has flown under the radar until recently. Her public support of Maya Forester, a tax account who was fired for her own transphobic tweets, got some notoriety last year. But it didn’t make front page news until last week, when she wrote a long, confusing, and weirdly self-congratulatory essay on her website, explaining her inexplicable position. It illuminated the ugly truth that trans Potter fans have known for a long time: J.K. Rowling hates trans people, because transphobia is a huge part of feminism and political culture in the U.K.

Part of me hates even talking about this. I don’t use social media. I don’t normally care if a celebrity does something dumb or offensive. And I do believe in “separating the art from the artist” to some extent. But it’s hard to just look the other way when it’s coming from someone you used to greatly admire, saying hateful things about a group that you personally identify with.

Still, there is a lot to admire about Harry Potter and J.K. Rowling’s life in general. She started writing the books as a single mother in a coffee shop in Edinburgh. She overcame poverty, an abusive ex-husband, and her own depression to become the most successful female author ever. And even though I have issues with the books on a story level, I still support the general message; that hatred is corrosive and that our differences are what make us stronger in the end.

Honestly, this whole thing is baffling to me. How can someone who’s struggled through so much, who believes so strongly in love and inclusivity, still lack the humanity to accept people who are different? A lot of Harry Potter fans are trans, and used the books to help them understand their own identity when they were younger. Rowling could have tried to understand or connect with us, but instead, she’s alienated us, for no reason other than her own prejudice and ego.

So I’ve broken up with my Harry Potter fandom. I love the happy childhood memories the series gave me, but I also acknowledge my tastes have changed since then. And I don’t want to support an author who uses her massive wealth and fame to spread hate and disinformation about my community. I have to deal with too much of that shit in my life as it is. I mean, just last Friday, the Trump administration got rid of protections from discrimination based on gender identity in a medical setting. (Happy Pride Month everybody!)

If you still like Harry Potter, we can still be friends. Obviously. I’ve tried to give the series and Rowling credit for what they’ve done, which is more than they have for people like me. But I’ve moved on. I’ll take the good parts of Harry Potter with me – the magic, the messages of hope and inclusivity, the timeless story of young people fighting oppression and changing the world. J.K. Rowling can keep all the stereotypes, fear, and hatred for herself.