An Open Letter to Dreamworks from an LGBT Woman of Color
To Dreamworks,
I am the young, LGBT woman of color who lost hope in my story because of your story.
In a life situation where who I am is looked down upon, Voltron was something of an escape for me. And that’s what stories are meant to be — Escape from everyday life. Especially stories meant for people my age. I saw myself in your characters, as I am sure you intended.
I saw myself in Shiro, as an LGBT person who struggles with depression. He taught me that I, too, could be a hero.
I saw myself in Allura, a beautiful, powerful woman of color, a leader, a shining beacon of hope and of good.
I saw myself in Hunk and Lance, as an immigrant, they taught me the importance of family, both found and of blood.
I saw myself in Pidge, as a woman looking to excel in STEM, she taught me that I could be smart without being ashamed.
Not all the places I saw myself were good, and that’s ok too. I saw myself in Lotor, as a victim of abuse. I saw myself in Keith, through my experiences with racism.
Stories can be sad. Not all stories have to be happy. But they should at least end in a place that leaves your audience at peace. The story doesn’t have to end happy for people to walk away happy for having experienced it. It should leave a lesson with your audience that prepares them for the future. Voltron used to have such good lessons, about family and bravery, and the cautionary tale of how easily power can corrupt.
But the lessons that the final season of Voltron tried to leave with me, the ones it will now be remembered for, they’re not ones any of us wanted to learn.
Shiro was revealed to be LGBT in Voltron Season 7. In Season 8, he is little more than a cardboard cutout of his former self. Rather than the brave and loving survivor I had known, who lead from the front lines by example, he was relegated to a console where he shouted orders at others. His meaningful relationships with the other paladins were gone. Shiro suddenly gives up his dreams of exploring the stars, a dream he left a previous relationship over, to settle down with a nameless character. He’s married to said nameless character in an obvious last minute attempt to score representation points.
In season 8, Shiro taught me that if I come out, I’ll lose everything. I’ll lose all my close friendships, especially if they’re my same gender — Shiro’s friendship with Keith is non-existent in season 8, after being a major focus in prior seasons, because two men aren’t allowed have a close friendship where one of them is gay. I’ll lose my dreams because scoring headlines for you is more important. Season 8 taught me that if I come out, my story will be gutted. I’ll be moved to the background and mischaracterized, and then at the very last minute, I’ll marry a random person to make a mark on a representation checklist. Season 8 taught me that queer people like me don’t get thought out and meaningful love stories, and that I’m supposed to celebrate even being allowed to kiss a stranger on screen because who I am is still too taboo to be worthy of development. You told me that love stories matter, that you would not stick in a random one in just for the sake of it, and then you told me that I do not deserve one. Season 8 taught me that I do not matter to you except as a representation scapegoat. Somehow, Dreamworks, you’ve managed to achieve an LGBT wedding in the most homophobic way possible.
Allura was an incredible character. She was a beacon of good, even after everything that she had been through. She was a role model to little girls of color everywhere. And then Season 8 mischaracterized her so completely that I barely recognized her, and then slaughtered her needlessly. Season 8 taught me that my place as a brave woman of color is to give and give to the universe, and give everything of myself to correct the mistakes of others, up to and including giving my life. My happiness does not matter. My personality does not matter, everything I have done up until this point does not matter, even if my actions would be extremely uncharacteristic of me. It taught me that to you, it is ok if I become evil as long as in the end, I defeat a worse evil. It taught me that you see women of color as storytelling tools of little importance who can easily become fodder for male tragedy porn. Allura dies for nothing, to further the story of her male counterparts. Even worse, the villain gets her happy ending, a happy reunion with her family. Allura gets death. And then you have the audacity to push merchandise with her on it after slaughtering her. You have taught me that my purpose as a woman of color is to make you money and then die when necessary to benefit the story of men.
In Season 8, Zarkon and Honerva both receive redemption arcs, while their son, Lotor, does not. You taught me that abusers deserve to be redeemed, but not their victims, despite evidence that the damage their victims have caused has been because of the abuse they suffered. Honerva nearly destroys all of existence and yet gets a redemption and a happy ending, while Lotor is still painted as a genocidal power hungry maniac. While I acquiesce that an abuse victim’s actions are still their own, and they are still responsible for them, that you decided that the abusers, and not the abused, are the ones deserving of a redemption arc teaches me that I am at fault for the abuse I have experienced. That I should forgive those that have hurt me because they felt bad about it, and that I, as a victim of abuse, am doomed to repeat the cycle forever.
Voltron was supposed to be about family. The power of family, both of blood and found. Yet the end of the show finds the paladins fragmented, catching up once a year at their friend’s memorial.
I’ve seen good shows end badly before, but never before have I seen a show that seemed so singlehandedly determined to, in its final season, attempt to ruin everything it had created before it.
This is a show I drew so much strength from, and it became something that sucked life out of me.
In a story that was supposed to inspire and bring hope, you stole all of mine.
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