Ten years ago today, Alastair Alexander and I launched a boycott that would eventually redefine the Harry Potter fan world and its relationship with Warner Brothers.
On February 22, 2001, DADA/PotterWar went live. The boycott began and my life changed forever.
It’s now ten years later. And yet given all that time, you’d think I’d have something a little more substantial to say. But here I am, drawing a blank. So forgive me if this is a bit rambly. I’m flying by the seat of my pants. Whatever will pour out of my head, my heart, and my fingers, well, so be it.
I learned a lot from PotterWar, as it has since come to be remembered. (Sorry, Al, I should have listened to you. Your name was infinitely better, more accessible, and definitely more memorable than ‘Defense Against the Dark Arts’.) I learned so much, in fact, I don’t even know where to start. I learned valuable skills such as how to write a decent press release, how to carry on a debate live via satellite on national television, how to debate with people in positions of power over you, how to work with others, but most importantly in that arena, how to manipulate public opinion in your favor.
Wait, that just sounds evil… Hehe.
So scratch that, because in the end, none of that is really what’s most important to me. Ten years on, I’m nowhere near where I thought I would be. My life is nothing like what I’d imagined, planned, or hoped for. Life had other plans for me, plans far less shining and bright. And I’m still trying to come to terms with that, tearing up in the process. It’s hard, feeling so much promise for yourself and your future, then ten years later coming to the hard realization that you’re not only stuck right where you were as a child, but maybe even a few steps behind.
Everything else about PotterWar, its progression, the mark it left on the world, that’s already been covered. If you want to read about it, check out textbooks from MIT and Stanford Law.) It’s all there, thanks to the work of Dr. Henry Jenkins and Lawrence Lessig, two men I’ve been honored to meet. Or I suppose you could watch ‘We Are Wizards’ (if you dare…) But that’s the side of the story everyone else has heard. Ten years later, let’s talk about the side you might not have heard. The personal side of PotterWar.
2001 was a year of extremes, in each direction. It started out so positive, so grand. The preparation for PotterWar began in December of 2000, when I first heard from my friend Lindsey that she’d received the now infamous threatening letter from Warner’s lawyers. The preparations originally began between myself and four other adolescent fan site owners. One by one, each other webmaster bowed out under pressure from their concerned parents. I found myself alone, facing a major multinational corporation all on my lonesome. At the time, Congress was holding hearings about the merger between AOL and Time Warner. The fact that they couldn’t even bring that company to its knees was – to put it lightly – intimidating as hell. And there I was, trying to build a case against them alone, a single fifteen year old daring to try and do something even the most powerful government in the world couldn’t accomplish.
To put it bluntly, I had balls. I still have no clue where that hubris came from. But I at least had enough humility to know that I couldn’t do it alone. Although my reasons weren’t quite what you’d think. At that age, I had my head in the clouds enough to think I could do anything. I could take them on, sure. I didn’t need anyone…
Except at that moment, that year, I did. All of my preparations had been made from the confines of my bed. That December I was recovering from the third and final operation to try and conquer a bone infection in my foot that I’d been battling for four years. I knew it was my last chance before I’d have to face amputation, or worse. I was dealing with emotional and physical pain I wish no child would ever have to deal with, and yet there I was with the overwhelming confidence to think I could manage a massive boycott at the same time.
Given those circumstances, I knew I needed someone. It turned out I was right, but for reasons I couldn’t possibly foresee.
Clearly, my nature is to be overly confident. But I’m not always so confident to believe that God is directing the minute details of my life. I think so much of our lives are happenstance, chance, or worse, the circumstances of our lives are the consequences of some other poor sap’s decisions, good or otherwise.
But what happened next, that was God cutting me a break. I don’t doubt it for a minute. That was God giving me exactly what I needed, not only then, but throughout the rest of my life.
He gave me Alastair. The strangest, most unexpected friend a sweet-faced, innocent little 15-year-old girl could ever have. But in God’s wisdom, he was perfect.
I found Alastair entirely by accident, in an interview in some random off-beat online newspaper based out of London. He was being interviewed about a girl in Ipswich who was being taken to court by Warner Brothers for daring to operate a Harry Potter fan site. That girl was Claire Field, her solicitor was Matthew Rippon, and it was her case that led to Alastair Alexander – then a City Councilman – creating a small website purely to help spread the word about what was happening to Claire.
Once I’d read that interview, once I saw PotterWar.org.uk, I knew I’d found the perfect partner to launch this boycott. But of course, I couldn’t have realized I’d also found a lifelong friend. I ended up sending him the most ridiculous, over-wrought email I think I’ve ever written. I honestly wish I still had a copy, because it was just embarrassingly bad. It was chock full of as many military metaphors my little drug-addled adolescent mind could think of. I was convinced that because of my age, I had to pull out every stop to convince this intelligent, powerful, experienced adult that I could be believed, that I could be trusted; that I could truly handle what I was proposing. An international boycott against one of the world’s most powerful media companies.
I sent the email and held my breath, praying for a response. It came soon enough, but it wasn’t quite what I expected. Again, I wish I had a copy of it, but the general gist was that he thought what I’d written was hilarious, so why the hell not? Let’s give it a shot. I’ve loved him ever since, hehe.
I won’t regurgitate the rest of the story of DADA/PotterWar. Like I said, that’s been told. A full decade later, the boycott itself isn’t even exactly what I’m celebrating on this tenth anniversary. It’s the people.
It’s Lindsey, it’s all the kids who reached out to us to tell us they’d received threatening letters. It’s all of the support from the children of the Daily Prophet. It’s Claire, it’s Matthew. It’s Matthew’s family, his beautiful wife and son. The memories of the day we met for the first time at a train station near Ipswich. The baby gifts, hauling a big jug of Vermont maple syrup across the ocean because Matthew’s wife was dying to have real, authentic pancakes with proper syrup.
But most of all, it’s Alastair. Ten years of memories that I wouldn’t trade for anything. Meeting for the first time at the London Underground station in Harrow. (I was four hours late – thank you, train delays, for all the stress and guilt I felt that day! Holy cripes…) The late night tour of Soho when he thought I was 18 (his reaction when he found out I was only 16 still makes me laugh), the road trips to Scotland, the driving lesson on the Queen’s estate at Balmoral, accidentally falling asleep in his bed, meeting his family, listening to his Mother’s unbelievably awesome laugh, having his Father read an outrageously stupid tea towel about ‘The Story of Heather’ in his beautiful thick Scottish brogue, being attacked by his niece and nephew during play time, cuddling on the couch with his toddler son as we watched Futurama for hours on end.
For being able to call him in a panic on a Sunday night, knowing I had to leave the country immediately due to threats against my life. Knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt he’d take care of me. And he did – I was there on Tuesday. Within a moment’s notice he took me in when I had nowhere else to go. He welcomed me into his life for an entire month, never complaining, never for one second making me feel unwelcome. Dealing with my stress, my anxiety, my screams whenever I saw something unexpectedly flinch out of the corner of my eye. He saved my life when a stalker threatened my safety.
Literally thousands of emails back and forth. Twice as many giggles and scoops of ice cream. When he travels with me, he may not get drunk, but sorry, we both do gain weight… hehe.
To me, the legacy of PotterWar doesn’t even have much to do with Harry Potter anymore. Even the traumatic memories are starting to fade about the frightening circumstances under which the boycott ended, when that bone infection I’d been fighting spread to my brain. Ten years later, all of those memories of debates, demands, boycotts, and interviews have faded in comparison to the people behind it who have changed and enriched my life. No one has done that for me more than Alastair. For that, I’ll always be eternally grateful, both to Warner Brothers for being bastards enough to warrant that boycott, and to God for pointing me in the right direction, so that I could find the closest friend I’ve ever had.
Thank you for ten wonderful years, Alastair. And here’s to ten more of the most unexpected friendship of seeming opposites I think the world might have ever seen.