Target Audience

Vi looked at her hands, at their scars. [] She just felt so powerless. Maybe her moment of need wasn’t quite as dire as Leia’s had been, [] but she was definitely in a dark place without a clear path. Her cargo was out of reach, her collaborator was challenging, and her own task seemed insurmountable. Her first attempt at recruitment had ended in a round of public laughter. Everything had gone wrong. She felt lost and unsure, which was not her usual state.

If she reached deep inside herself, what would she find? Not the Force, of course. But there was something there—an iron core. Determination. Tenacity. Stubborn persistence. She’d gotten herself out of that First Order interrogation chair, after all. She just had to live through one moment, and then the next, and then the next.

She just had to keep going—until she had a better hand.

~

With "Turning Red" on the pages of many newspapers, mostly for very wrong reasons, I was forced to reflect, once again, on identification and representation.

[Gracefully, the sexist and racist CinemaBlend review was turned down]

For the majority of my life, I was painfully not intended as the "target audience" of the movies, tv shows, or books I enjoyed.

Worst, just astonishingly few women represented *me* in mass-media productions.

Generally, they were not looking like me, sound like me, and, especially, act like me.

So, as an old pop culture consumer, I become quite used to being intrigued by stories and characters that were "other."

As Reath Silas, Padme, and, yes, Obi-Wan, Vi Moradi is not a protagonist that I feel particularly related to.

She is, in many ways, the very opposite of me.

But how limiting would be thinking that imaginary tales are invalid or uninteresting just because we could not identify with them?

Sure, I miss the representation, sometimes.

But fiction is a way to acknowledge and appreciate narratives that are utterly diverse and, therefore, precious.

Learning from Vi.

Her frank acceptance of her weaknesses.

Her honest admission of her failures.

Pain, lostness.

Without giving up.

So human, so real.

[Photo: beautiful pin by @armstrongoutpost on my adored Vi mouse ears by @poppourrico]