Being a Feminist Star Wars Fan is… Complicated

The newest Star Wars movie, The Force Awakens, will come out this Thursday to massive anticipation. You’ll see lot of people reminiscing how much Star Wars means to them, so this feminist just can’t resist.

To be fair, nostalgia is embedded in the heart of Star Wars’s premise, what with its perennial first four words (“A long time ago”) which sets the series in an ancient, galactic past. At the same time, there are strong futuristic yearning themes, represented by high tech spaceships and light speed travel. To be a Star Wars fan means reflecting on this fictional past while dreaming of remarkable utopias — a practice that feminists frequently rely on while envisioning more just worlds.

So weirdly, Star Wars has been really important to my feminist consciousness. You know, the other Force.

Princess Leia was the first woman leader I saw on the big screen. She is a diplomat, a fighter, and takes little shit from mansplainers, characteristics that I frequently use to describe my feminist heroes. By playing Princess Leia in the playground, I was able to practice these bad-ass traits with the neighborhood gaggle of other young Star Wars fans. She let me push against gender expectations; yeah she’s a princess but she also knows how to program droids and keep her cool under pressure.

Obviously, there are complicated aspects of Princess Leia’s portrayal (#redbikini), but I am still so grateful for her role in Star Wars. She was my first example of an uppity boss-lady who gets things done in the face of some mediocre dudes.

But as I grew up, identifying a Star Wars fan became more complicated. If lightsabers, aliens, Wookies, and fantastical hair designs can exist in this fictional universe, why has it been so hard to incorporate women, people of color, and LGBTQ folks? Princess Leia is a rockstar yet all of the original trilogies fail the Bechdel Test. And, let’s be honest, Episodes 1- 3 were complete disasters with racist tropes and horrible plots

I would bring these questions up with fans. I’d get into arguments that people of color couldn’t threaten the film’s “authenticity”: wasn’t it all fake anyways? Why would there need to be more women in the movies?  Would women really fight for the Rebellion anyways? Being a feminist Star Wars fan meant getting into conversations about inclusion, gender, and power at an early age and feeling increasingly alienated from this community and culture that I otherwise loved. When I heard that there would be a new movie, it was hard for me to really unleash my full enthusiasm. Would things be better this time?

It turns out that Star War feminist fans have already made their voices heard in shaping this galactic universe. As Jos reported last week, Star Wars added its first female villain in response to public outcry from feminists angered by an initial cast photo with very few female characters.

At the same time, it’s frustrating as hell to hear “fans” decry even the presence of non-white dudes in the film what with the creation of the #BoycottStarWarsVII hashtag as a result of seeing non-white faces (number of non-white faces = 2). At the same time, the incredible Lupita Nyong’o is rumored to have an important role in the film, but it seems that the film’s creators are more comfortable showing the face of a CGI alien rather than showing the face of a woman of color. Princess Leia has reportedly upgraded to General Leia, but reporters keep asking Carrie Fisher, the actress who plays Leia, questions about her weight loss. While the films feature flight in light-speed, it seems that we still can’t escape the racism and sexism surrounding our environments.

In the original trilogy, the ever-wise Yoda reveals his hope for the continuation of the Jedis (the protagonists, for non-Star Wars fans). He says pensively, “There is another.” This statement’s significance has been widely interpreted as the untapped potential of Princess Leia, suggesting that she too will become a Jedi.

But what if Yoda wasn’t referring just to the power of one already privileged white rich lady but to characters of color? What if Star Wars showed characters tackling racism, sexism, homophobia, and transphobia? What if Star Wars fans, who already concede to the idea of planet destroyers and sounds in space, welcomed new voices and perspectives? What if Star Wars, rather than reinforcing gender stereotypes in the toy aisle, had a non-gender-binary character?

We still don’t know what “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” will include. But in these last cautiously optimistic days, I know that even if Star Wars isn’t perfect, it’s given me an opportunity to find my voice in its flaws. It’s given me and fans around the world the tools to dream of the unexpected and to find adventure in our collective imagination. See you all in the theaters, and may the bad-ass feminist Force be with you.

Featured image: The author as Princess Leia circa 1998.