Of Muggles and Mudbloods

While my friends and family were busy being disgusted and frustrated with J.K. Rowling for pushing Dumbledore out of the closet, I was silenty grateful. At the time I was still very ashamed of my attractions for men, and though I felt very guilty for how appealing Dumbledore and Grindelwald's relationship was to me, it felt relieving to have a character I trusted (okay, perhaps fictional characters become a bit too real to me at times) be the same as me. When the topic came up in conversations, I would always argue that far from ruining the character, the knowledge of Dumbledore's sexuality added greatly to his depth. People were often surprised by me, and I went to great lengths to hide my own sexuality and would condemn homosexuality, but point out that Dumbledore never acted on his feelings.

I'm glad those days are over. I love what Marry Griffith, mother of Bobby, a gay man who committed suicide, once said, "I would rather be branded a heretic while helping a child of God out of the gutters of this world, where the church and I have thrown them, than to pass by on the other side muttering under our breath, 'the wages of win are death.'" I no longer believe that LGBT people who have same sex partners are awful, bad people living in sin. As I've ceased muttering of sin and death, I've been able to see the good in these relationships. I recently met with my cousin and his fiancée, another man, and talked with them about their relationship. As my cousin's partner described the pain he had been through in his life and how being with my cousin was the first time he had ever felt loved and had ever been truly happy, tears came to my eyes and I felt that familiar feeling of God in my heart, and I felt deeply that He was here, too, in their supposedly sinful relationship.

I had another moment of tears two days ago, albeit a significantly more silly one. I was watching part one of the Deathly Hallows movie with my family, and there was a part where you see a pamphlet describing the dangers about Mudbloods and the threat they posed to the wizarding world. My thoughts returned to the abolition movement, and the supposed dangers that abolishing slavery posed to the world. And to the women's suffrage movement, and the arguments that their right to vote would put society in danger. And then to the civil rights movement, and how LDS leaders like Mark E. Peterson taught that it was dangerous because ending segregation could lead to an increase of inter racial marriage, which posed a danger to society. And how Ezra Taft Benson decried the dangers of the civil rights movement as part of a communist movement in America. And I remembered how from Hitler and the holocaust to George Q Cannon positing that all homosexuals should be destroyed as to rid the world of their contagion in a generation, justifications of dehumanization and all of the world's worst atrocities have been justified in fear and promulgated in arguments of fictitious harms presented to society because of one group or another. One of the biggest arguments against gay marriage is that same argument. It will destroy the family, and lead to the crumbling of society. It's still a poor argument.

And so yes, I cried over Muggles and Mudbloods.

I'm happy J.K. Rowling brought Dumbledore out of the closet. It was brave of her, and it helped me at the time. I'm at home for Christmas, and I know that I need to come out to my dad soon. I don't know if it will be while I'm here. I've thought of writing a letter instead, because it would be much easier. But I'm grateful that I'm no longer ashamed. That makes a big difference.

(Side note: I don't mean to sound too negative about the church's past, and I want to clarify that while I find our history as a people and as a church extremely important to my own understanding of which parts of the doctrine to accept, I still love the church and find much divinity in its teachings.)