The opinions expressed in this piece are those of the author and don’t necessarily reflect the views of We Got This Covered, and its parent company, GAMURS. The author’s identity has been kept anonymous, per their request.
Confession time: I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to navigate the quote-unquote culture wars.
As a South Asian who grew up in Canada but now resides in the U.S., I’ve gotten quite used to being an invisible minority of sorts. Yes, we got our brief moment in the sun when Slumdog Millionaire became the indie darling of the late 2000s, but other than a small handful of instances like these, I became quite familiar with existing in the background — like that one guy who shows up to every party, but always hanging out in the corner, half out-of-sight. You can always tell a Milford man, I guess.
When Hogwarts Legacy rolled around this week, the internet, unsurprisingly, became a bit of a nightmare to navigate, especially if you mostly find yourself reading up on and discussing games. As both an avid gamer and a full-time game dev, I live for this kind of discourse, but at the same time, the discussion surrounding Hogwarts Legacy seems, at least to an outside observer, to be dominated by a mostly white audience. I’m absolutely sure there are vocal BIPOC figures out there who are weighing in on Warner Bros.’ latest release, but, after years of being conditioned, not to mention being indirectly told that the issues you might face are pretty low on the totem pole, I wasn’t about to go swimming in shark-infested waters.
If you’re reading this, wondering exactly what I’m referring to, I can think of a no better example than everyone’s favorite convenience store owner, Apu Nahasapeemapetilon (for the record, no, that’s not a real South Asian surname). On the surface, this beloved Simpsons character seems pretty harmless, and for the most part, he is. In fact, he’s a pretty likable guy, and chances are, during Apu’s heyday, most South Asian Americans would have given him a thumbs up or two. With the approval of both white and Indian viewers, what’s not to like?
…right?
To be completely honest with you, this is the sort of trap that American culture falls into at an alarmingly frequent rate. 2016’s Ghost in the Shell comes to mind. Leading up to the film’s release, you wouldn’t have to look far to find stories and articles explaining why Scarlett Johansson’s casting is perfectly fine, with some outlets going so far as to insinuate that if Japanese fans aren’t outraged, why should you be?
This, right here, marks the great divide when looking at Asian diasporas. While the older generation — specifically, the ones who immigrated to America — (typically) have little in the way of expectations when it comes to being represented in the cultural sphere, first-generation Asian Americans are a bit more vocal when it comes to having a seat at the table, though in the late ’80s all the way through the 2000s, we didn’t have much in the way of a soapbox.
Tying back into The Simpsons and Apu, this tapered our expectations… a lot. On a personal level, I learned very quickly that I shouldn’t expect much in the way of visibility in the pop culture scene. It should come as no surprise then that I learned to take the good with the bad, and I’m sure many of my Asian brothers and sisters did much the same, latching onto the bits of culture that resonated with us, even if we felt a bit outsider-ish for enjoying it. For me, that was learning to enjoy hearing Hank Azaria voice Apu, or watching Peter Sellers make a fool out of himself in brownface. It wasn’t much, but it was all we had.
You can probably see where I’m going with this. Yes, I find J.K. Rowling’s views to be incredibly problematic, and frankly, it’s very clear, to me at least, that she’s purposefully trying to poke the bear when she hits that Send button. But, after decades of putting up with the good, the bad, and the ugly of Asian American representation, I’ve become pretty neutral when it comes to calls to action and boycotts. I mean, I’m absolutely supportive of anyone who takes issue with a piece of media (or its creators) and wants to discuss its problematic existence, but I’ve adopted a rather laissez-faire policy when it comes to everyone’s personal purchasing decisions. “You do you” might sound like a cliché at this point, but for me, it’s become a survival mechanism, a necessity if I didn’t want to shut everyone out of my life just because they engaged with something that I found problematic.
So, Hogwarts Legacy. Is it good? Bad? Middling? I’m sure most of you will come to your own conclusions one way or another, and frankly, I didn’t spend nearly 800 words providing context and waxing poetic just to distill it down into a few back-of-the-box bullet points and a slapped-on score. What I am trying to explain is that I found myself pleasantly surprised by Hogwarts Legacy, not as a gamer, but as a brown gamer.
While the gaming industry still has a lot of work to do, I can’t deny that representation has gotten a lot better (and that goes for film and TV, too). Still, it’s been pretty rare to see South Asians front and center in the triple-A scene, a trend that Hogwarts Legacy proudly bucks. Of course, it all starts with the character creator. It’s pretty rare for me to stumble across a game that lets you create believable Asian characters, but somehow, Hogwarts Legacy has pulled it off. In fact, another writer here at We Got This Covered modeled the playable character off of their real-life girlfriend, and I’ve been told they were able to recreate the likeness fairly well. Other marginalized and oft-neglected groups have also praised the character creator, with specific attention paid to the numerous authentic hairstyles.
What I wasn’t prepared for were the other Hogwarts students who, you know, actually look and sound like my family and friends. Take Amit Thakkar, a fellow fifth-year with an affinity for astronomy and a dislike of anything that veers into the realm of danger. You befriend Amit pretty early on in the story, and I was pleased to hear that, unlike other South Asian males from other games, Amit sports what I would call a fairly authentic, natural accent; one that I associate with someone who might have immigrated at a young age. While there are plenty of examples to choose from with respect to Western media treating South Asian accents as fodder for ridicule, you won’t see (or rather, hear) that in Hogwarts Legacy.
And then there’s Satyavati Shah, the astronomy professor. Admittedly, she doesn’t have a ton of screentime, but what stood out to me was not only her physical appearance (South Asians are not a monolith, and can have a wide range of skin tones) but her professional attire. Someone(s) at Avalanche Software clearly took the time to model a rather detailed sari, which I couldn’t help but note looks distinctly astronomy-themed. Color me impressed.
Some might not find these additions all that surprising, especially those who are familiar with the Indian diaspora and Britain’s ethnic makeup. While the United Kingdom as a whole has become noticeably more diverse over the past 20 or so years, it’s worth noting that Hogwarts Legacy takes place in 1890. Concrete stats from this time are hard to come by, though some estimate that in the mid-19th century, the number of Indians living in the UK was around 40,000 or so — a fraction of the million-plus that reside there today. Sure, while Hogwarts Legacy might take place over 100 years ago, its developers have made a conscious decision to feature a diverse group of students and professors that more closely resemble modern Britain, with some hailing from East Asia and the Pacific Islands.
I’m quite certain that a number of people who take the time to read this article will undoubtedly characterize it as a puff piece, one designed to draw attention away from the Wizarding World’s creator, her problematic behavior, and how she singlehandedly tarnished a beloved franchise. I’m not entirely sure there’s anything else I can say that would convince you otherwise, but I’ll take this opportunity and circle back to something else that’s worth considering.
It’s difficult to come up with tangible numbers, but given how popular Hogwarts Legacy has been in its early access period, it’s incredibly likely that it’ll go on to sell like gangbusters, and it’s equally likely that the vocal opposition to the game is coming from a relatively small number. This goes without saying, but even if that second prediction turns out to be true, that shouldn’t, and doesn’t, discredit any of the legitimate complaints raised against the game and franchise as a whole.
The danger comes in assuming that the vocal minority and the communities that are affected by Rowling’s actions are a monolith, or that any prevailing opinion or seemingly-clear choice wasn’t shaped by a privileged majority. The fact of the matter is, whether you’re looking at games media, game developers, or most things associated with gaming as a whole, it’s a largely white-dominated space.
I for one, am hopeful that things will change, and I’m happy (and willing) to be a part of that change. What I’m asking you, the reader, to consider, is pretty simple. Before you make a decision and draw a firm line in the sand, please, make sure everyone’s had the chance to step up to the mic and say their piece.
