It’s been a weird couple of weeks, friends. Between the death of Queen Elizabeth II and the release of the controversial new Little Mermaid trailer, the Internet has been busier than usual fighting with itself. It’s hard not to see parallels between (1) the rage against those pointing out that the British monarchy has done great harm to much of the non-European world (with a side note of “any guesses as to why the British press hate Meghan Markle so much?”) and (2) the rage against those who are excited to see a Black woman play the live-action Ariel.
Let’s break those down.
I’m a bit of a royal-watcher, I confess. I thought King Charles III seemed absolutely shattered, Princess Charlotte looked like an adorable Edwardian orphan in her flat black hat and coat, and it was bittersweet that Her Majesty passed away in the place where she loved to relax. The Queen did her duty to her country, for so many decades, unflaggingly and with flashes of humour that humanized and endeared her. She meant something to an awful lot of people, who have been grieving her loss as if she were their own grandmother or at least a dear family friend. I don’t wish to belittle those feelings.
At the same time, she carried on an institution — the British monarchy — that has done immeasurable harm. The Queen is invoked and commemorated in various ways all over Canada, she is (was) the head of state, she appears on our coins. Ceremonial? Without any formal political power? Sure, but what did she do to hasten the independence of Commonwealth countries or remediate the harm that was done to people of colour by her forebears or in her name? (For example, residential schools were created by the Canadian government, and the last school didn’t close until 1996, 44 years after Elizabeth became queen.) To be apolitical, as she famously was, is to uphold the status quo. As noted above, she had immense power to influence, if she had chosen to wield it.
Here’s the part that many people don’t seem to understand: Both of the above paragraphs can be true at the same time.
Now for Ariel. I’m a redhead who grew up in the 80s and 90s, so Ariel was certainly an influence, although my Disney princess alter ego was obviously Belle, she who loves libraries and comes to live in a Gothic story. I didn’t imprint on any of the princesses, in fact. (My favourite Disney movie at the time was The Lion King, and my favourite literary redheads were Anne of Green Gables and Pippi Longstocking. But I digress.)
One story I did imprint on, though, was Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time (and its sequels, especially A Wind in the Door and A Swiftly Tilting Planet). I too was an older sister struggling with norms at school, wanting to find my courage and do the right things.
When the movie came out a few years ago, it was made by a renowned Black director (Ava DuVernay) and featured a biracial family. Was it the way I had pictured them? No, it was clearly filtered through DuVernay’s vision. But I enjoyed watching the film and thinking about the choices that DuVernay made — not just the ones related to Blackness, of course, but the visuals of the adventures, the plot and pacing tweaks, and so on. And the books were, and are, still there to be enjoyed separately.
I wish I could say I don’t understand where the rage against the Little Mermaid remake is coming from…but I do. It’s people who can’t bear to see their childhood stories changed, particularly not in a way that lets someone different see herself in those visuals. Instead of engaging in self-reflection, they’re latching onto the change in colour and lashing out in a way approved by (some parts of) society. Instead of listening to the voice in the trailer (have you heard that voice?) they’re looking at her Black skin and her red locs — while accusing others of making everything about colour.
Because alas, everything is about colour on some level. The sooner we realize that, sit with it and own it, learn and listen, the sooner we can start uplifting and celebrating peoples of all colours, instead of fighting to stay on top, celebrating some while denigrating others.
To quote a credo from something else I imprinted on — Star Trek — we can start celebrating Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.