I’m not sure if you know this, but I have deep love for all things Harry Potter. As I look back on this space of mine, I’m not sure I’ve written about that too much, and today, on Harry’s 35th birthday, well, now seems a good time.
Harry is real, y’all.
Our generation grew up with the Golden Trio. If I may be so bold, I might liken them to our teenage bibles. Through them we learned about right and wrong, darkness and light, good and evil, and we learned them side by side Harry, Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the beloved characters. We learned about bullying, about sacrifice, about love, about human nature.
Never has a series of books so deeply impacted so many children and teenagers and adults.
The Sorcerer’s Stone was first released in the US in fall 1998, and I first got my hands on it the next year, when I was 10, in 5th grade. I was hooked from page one. In fact, every time I re-read the series, page one makes me cry as a flood of emotions flows through me. Chamber of Secrets and Prisoner of Azkaban had already been released by that time as well, so I quickly gobbled them up, and anxiously awaited the release of Goblet of Fire.
I loved all the books, and when the movies started coming out, I couldn’t wait.
Perhaps the most special book, and moment, to me, was the release of book number seven, the Deathly Hallows, in the summer of 2007. I was 17, I had just graduated from high school, I was about to go out and take on the world. And in that book, Harry is 17, in what would have been his 7th year (his senior year, if you will) and was quickly thrust out into the world, away from the comforts of home and school.
I could relate to Harry. I understood Harry. I knew where he was coming from. I was there, too. We all were.
So thanks, Harry, for being our best friend as we battled through adolesence. And thanks, Jo, for working magic in the lives of so many girls and boys.
