Finding Your Inner Gryffindor

Fiction is detrimental to your child.

Fantasy destroys your kid's ability to accept reality.

Fairy tales are a way of lying to your child.

Bah, Humbug. Most reasonably sane and intelligent people understand that this is far from true.

In fact, it's kind of funny how a fantasy series can help you on your journey of self-discovery. Of course, when I say "journey of self-discovery" what I mean is "you learn things that you didn't know before about yourself and what you find important".

You know, the kind of things that protagonists always discover in the midst of affliction, and they never would have known it about themselves if they hadn't been thrown into life-threatening situations.

-Katniss realizes that she'd give her life up to protect her sister.
-Jake discovers that he's a natural born leader.
-Draco discovers that he isn't a cold-blooded murderer after all.
-Elphaba realizes that she values freedom and decency a lot more than power, fame, and being accepted.

Etc, etc...

The best part of this is that we can learn those kinds of things without having to actually be in dire straights ourselves. The way you react to the hero's dilemmas and choices shows a lot about your own personality.

(And sometimes that includes exercising a great deal of self-control in not subjecting the book to imminent destruction.)

This is the story of one such learning experience.

How I Found My Inner Gryffindor

Ever since my initiation into the HP world (which was a relatively short time ago, compared to most die-hard HP fans) I've been a Ravenclaw supporter.

I have a Ravenclaw poster that I made. And Ravenclaw quidditch robes. And a ravenclaw colors bracelet. And half a scarf. (I never did finish it...)

I didn't want to be Gryffindor, because it was the popular one. All the bandwaggoners picked Gryffindor. And obviously I wasn't a Slytherin, by any means. And no one is quite sure exactly what it is that Hufflepuffs are supposed to be known for...

(I once, very inadvertently, used the word hufflepuff as an expletive while insulting a computer character who beat me at a game.)

I was a Ravenclaw. Naturally. It was the only way. The most obvious. The most logical. Everything fit. (It helps that I liked the Ravenclaw colors better than any others.)

And when I signed up for pottermore, I expected to be sorted into Ravenclaw as a matter of course. (Admittedly, I did have a slight fear of being put in hufflepuff.)

But I wasn't.

(I admit, though, that this one looks by far the most comfy and me-esque of all the common rooms)

Needless to say, I was flabbergasted. If I'd been put in Slytherin, I wouldn't have been very much more surprised. It bordered on disappointment. 


But this is Rowling's official sorting test. Rowling's word is law. You can not dispute it. I had to find a way to be okay with getting sorted into Gryffindor.

The funny thing was, after the surprise wore off it seemed... right. Somehow. I wasn't sure just why, and I needed to figure it out. I don't do well with unsolved mysteries.

So, a fan-site for a fantasy book series forced me to evaluate myself. It made me pay attention to what I valued. I looked at all the book characters I loved. I thought about which of their choices I liked, and which I hated, and why.

You know those times in a mystery novel where you turn the page, the detective reveals all, and suddenly everything makes sense. The signs were there the whole time, and now that you know the answer, you can see them clear as day. But along the way, you had no idea what they meant, or what to do with them.

That is what happened. I gradually became aware of certain values that I prized more than others. And one of them was guts. Determination. Chutzpah. Being daring enough to do something, even though you're deathly afraid of doing it. All things that "set gryffindors apart".

Go figure.

It was there the whole time, and I never even knew.

I still have some difficulties. It's hard for me to see everyone and their dog wear gryffindor colors just because it's the popular one. None of them really belong there.

And it's hard for me to have people think that I'm just a bandwaggoner myself.

(Also, I hate maroon too. You and me, Ron, see eye to eye. Gryffindor colors are SCARLET and gold. Scarlet is not maroon. That is all.)


In general, though, I've come to terms with the gryffindor thing. Enough to wear the colors without shame.

And it's been extremely helpful. Not only in knowing and understanding myself, but in knowing and understanding other people and other book characters.

In summary: fiction makes reality richer.