Molly and Me

I was listening to the book Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix today while cleaning my house. (Shout out to Libby and the Public Library System!). I was in my kitchen finishing when I came to the scene where Molly Weasley is trying to get rid of a boggart. Quick note: a boggart is a shape shifter that turns into whatever the person is most afraid of. Molly is cleaning the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, the meeting place for those opposed to the evil Lord Voldemort. But I digress, Molly is trying to get rid of a boggart.

​Molly begins to sob as the boggart transforms into her worst fear. First, she sees her son Ron, dead on the carpet before her, then one after another, all of her children and then her husband and finally her “good as” son Harry, all of them lie before her, taken out of her life by the evil Voldemort. By the time Harry is seen dead on the floor, Molly is sobbing uncontrollably, and tears are falling down my cheeks as I stand at the sink in my kitchen.

​This has been a difficult week for me. The election was upsetting in November, but to have the red hatted orange man back in office, right down the street from me has provoked a visceral response. I am sick with worry over how things will turn out for our family and friends.

​I have a transgender son and other family members and friends who are part of the LGBTQ community. I have many neighbors and friends in the African American community. I am Molly Weasley on many days, seeing first my son, and then my other precious people dead before me on the floor. And I know what you are going to say, because Lupin and Sirius said it to Molly, “You are overreacting!” “It won’t be as bad as last time!” “Everything is going to be ok.” 

​You may not be able to see it, but I do. Hate is a trickle-down phenomenon. It seethes from its source and spreads down, out of sight of its origin. On the day after the last election, I saw a white child at a park chasing and yelling at a Mexican American child to go back where he came from. The second child called back to say that he was born here. The first boy yelled that Trump said he should go back to where he came from. It was highly disturbing, an unfortunate harbinger.

When our leaders run on hateful propaganda and villainize minority groups, using them to gain power by preying on the fears of ordinary people, they can get elected to office. What the gentlemen in charge and the voters do not get to experience is the after-effects of their choices. There is a tremendous sense of unease in the communities where my family lives, and for good reason. The gloves are off, and the powers that be seem intent on making a show of spreading chaos and fear. When this happens, the followers feel emboldened, as did the child at the park, and life becomes even more miserable and uncertain for those standing at the sharp end.

​Molly Weasley begins to doubt herself as the males try to cheer her up with their platitudes. She ends up asking them not to tell her husband that she got so worked up and adds, “I was just being silly.” I know that a few books later, in the final fight of the good witches and wizards against Lord Voldemort that Molly actually does lose one of her sons, Fred. She realizes the risks they are taking, making a stand against the enemy.

Someone recently accused me of being dramatic because I have strong feelings about this election and the ramifications of the orange man occupying our highest office. I did not call myself silly, as Molly was bullied into doing. I know that we will be losing some very good people, and I have every right to be afraid of the boggart hiding in my closet.  

*Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix was written by J. K. Rowling, who incidentally has done her fair share of damage to the transgender community…but that is an issue for another post.