Growing up, I wanted to know who I was. At the age of nine, I would stand and stare into the mirror in my bathroom and ask myself, “Who am I?” Was I destined to be the nerd? Was I going to become an athletic powerhouse or a humble engineer working the 9-5 grind? And, most importantly to me, how would others see me? I wanted to describe myself in the eyes of those around me, to know what they would say or think of me.
Amid this confusion, I fell in love with a show that I vowed to never watch. Whether it be mere happenstance or destiny, I gave Avatar: The Last Airbender a shot. I’d seen the promotions for the show before and I thought it looked annoying. As a kid, I had the habit of refusing change of any kind. I had my favorite shows that I was introduced to at a young age and those were good enough for me. If they weren’t on, I would fill my house with paper planes and annoy my family with annoying questions and ideas.
That fateful day, Avatar flashed on the screen and I reached for the remote. I wish I could opine on some introspective epiphany that I had, but there was none. The remote was too far away and I didn’t feel like moving much so I let it play. Within minutes, my heart and mind were captured by truly artistic characters and writing. At the time, I didn’t understand the deeper arguments of the show but my understanding wasn’t face value either. I began to watch it at any chance I could get, I would piece together the story. Though it was typically played in order, I would often miss episodes here and there.
At this point, I want to issue a warning. There will be spoilers here. If you haven’t watched the show in its entirety, I would advise that you do. It may be a show produced for an audience of children, but I would argue that the script was written for everyone. Is everyone good? Ight. When I had gotten to the final episodes, I couldn’t help but feel weird. The ending was artistic and truly captivating. Every moment had me guessing what was going to happen. The mix of red and blue, the fight between good and evil was such a powerful concept to me at the time. When the next show came on, I was left with heartache. I wanted more but I was content with how it ended.
Something else stuck with me, though. Something that went far beyond the feel-good entertainment of the main show. The tales of Zuko and Iroh, individually, and their interactions as a team shaped my view on the ideas of good and evil. Iroh’s teachings shaped my perceptions of those around me and what it means to be evil.
Over the next few posts, I’ll be reviewing my favorite episodes and explaining the teachings I got. Some of these posts will deal with psychology and others, philosophy. By the end of this series, I hope to show how a show can change someone, and how art can influence culture in all the right ways.