Seven of Nine — A Galactic Queer Icon
Her attempts to fit into a world that despised her made her an LGBT cult hero. Star Trek: Picard just made it offical.
As a gay man interested in sci-fi, gaming and comics, I’ve faced my fair share of tokenism.
First comes my raised eyebrow as massive production companies toy with the idea of including LGBTQI representatives into their stories. What follows is predictable. Diehard fans argue how the ‘PC culture’ of the world is ruining these organic storylines.
They argue that in world’s full of aliens and spaceships and magic, the least realistic thing going is a gay character. How these characters are ‘made gay’ just to suit a current political climate (as opposed to you know, representing all walks of life?)
Gay people then read such commentary and we’re back to point 1 — raised eyebrow…what was it all for? Small gestures such as a gay character having a boyfriend is now ruined. Instead of it being comforting to LGBT fans, it’s weaponized. Demonized.
And as fans of these shows, it’s hard to then appreciate these small gestures for what they could be — a beginning — a turning point for more queer content going into the mainstream stratus. More often than not, sadly, it’s an ending.
It’s a win-win scenario for the makers though, as the shock-factor of making someone gay gets them lots of eyes on the product, regardless of the fall-out.
And yet, on the closing scene of Episode 12 of Star Trek’s Picard, I could not help but be moved by a simple gesture, and its’ beginning.
Seven of Nine
‘You claim to respect my individuality, but in fact you are frightened by it’
Seven of Nine has always been a role-model to me growing up. Played by the iconic Jeri Ryan, she is the quintessential reason Voyager was, and still is, my favourite Star Trek.
A former Borg drone, Seven’s attempts to reengage with her humanity across space was equal parts humorous, fascinating and relatable.
Her attempt to fit into a world which does not accept her made her a stand-out LGBTQI icon.
Seven has made several appearances through-out the latest Star Trek series, Picard, doning long hair and a more humane-tone. I was beyond excited each scene she was a part of — waiting for the stoic, elequant delivery of every line.
While still retaining Borg assimilated parts and her dry-wit humour, this new Annika had a new sense of compassion and resolve — a perfect blend of nostalgia and ‘newness’ to the character.
In a world full of aliens and spaceships, for some fans the least realistic thing going can be a gay character. But I’m appreciating this monumental shotuout.
Spoilers — The End Scene of Picard.
And so brings me to that last scene in the finale episode..(I could of coruse talk for hours on Seven’s storylines, from her original appearance saving Picard to her inner battle with morality in seeking revenge. Another time, perhaps.).
When the whole team reunites at the end, the first noticable thing you’ll spot is how Agnes is seemingly absolved of murder and is now hooking up with pilot Rios. OK, perfectly normal, given the circumstances I guess.
Picard is incredibly OK with the idea of being a synthetic. All perfectly normal.
And as the camera pans through the ship in the most subtle of ways, we see Seven giggling with Raffi, played by the heavenly Michelle Hurd.
Innocently enough, I let out an audible “Awwww” as they seem to be having the banters together. It’s cute. It’s also nice to see two alpha-females getting along, who otherwise shared very little screen time together.
And then…. the hand embrace. That hand embrace — when the fingers interlock and they stare at each other longer than is needed, smiling all the while. And my gay brain explodes.
Seven of Nine never needed to be gay to be a role-model to the LGBTQI community. She was a quintessential icon already, based off of fan assumptions,apart from some romances on the Voyager series many assumed Seven was pretty queer to begin with.
Was the hand embrace in the final scene an attempt at tokenism?
Perhaps.
And my mind did go to that place, already thinking of the backlash or uproar a simple gesture might make. Or trying to justify how or why it happened then. But then I stopped myself.
Does it matter this time?
Not. One. Bit.
Should it matter the next time, and the time after that? Not to the same degree.
I now refuse to let other people’s inability to explore this new side of Seven, and other LGBTQ characters in this fashion anymore. If it’s tokenism, and your mission is to alert other fans of this — check yourself. For many it’s a gentle sign, a symbol, that characters like you exsist.
We’d all love the love storyline between Seven and Raffi have it’s own scene, it’s own episode, heck it’s own season. But it was a hand grasp.
It’s the beginning of a new story for an old fan-favourite. I can’t wait to see how it ends.
