The Harry Potter Alliance (HPA) is an organisation of Harry Potter fans who put their "faith" (love of the Harry Potter books and the ideals expressed therein) into action through creative activism. The "Not in Harry's Name" (NIHN) campaign demands that Warner Brothers either prove that the Chocolate Frogs they sell with Harry's name on them are already being made using fair and ethical standards or take action to live up to their own "fair and ethical labor standards."
The NIHN campaign was originally launched a year ago as part of our much bigger "Deathly Hallows" campaign, and was re-launched and re-focused yesterday with three new actions for fans to take: buy the HPA's new fair trade chocolate frogs (which come with campaign information, too), create and send "Muggle Howlers" (YouTube videos expressing that we find WB's actions unacceptable), and, my personal favourite, mail WB cease and desist letters.
I love the HPA because it doesn't function at all like most other activist organisations. We are dead serious about what we do—none of our campaigns would have succeeded if we weren't—but the activism the HPA does is creative, unexpected, and fun. We kick off campaigns with parties, Quidditch matches, and all the sorts of "stupid" things for which Harry Potter fans so often get mocked and ridiculed. I imagine, at the risk of further infuriating every Christian who swears Harry Potter is the anti-Christ, that Harry Potter fans are currently holding onto whatever it was that possessed grown people who should have known better to defy both Roman authority and Jewish leaders and spread the Gospel.
Maybe the early Christians didn't play sports on broomsticks that couldn't fly; maybe they point sticks at each other and say funny words, knowing full well nothing would happen; maybe they didn't have costume contests and Jesus conventions—but they, like the HPA, seemed to believe that love really does win. They believed that they possessed the incontrovertible truth that love is too powerful to ever lose, and they believed that their hero, Jesus, lived on through them, just as Harry Potter's lost loved ones lived on through him. They believed in resurrection.
Christianity in the 21st century doesn't believe in these things, no matter which side of the political and theological divides on which you find yourself. Either the God of Wrath will spitefully wipe out and destroy the wicked, or the God of Forgiveness is just too passive to infringe upon the so-called "rights" of others to spew hate. The God who makes "justice roll on like a river and righteousness like an never-failing stream" (Amos 5:24, NIV) has been forgotten by the majority of Christianity.
Yesterday, as the NIHN campaign re-launched, I played an intense and muddy Quidditch match against a rival team in pouring rain. Our very presence at the park in which we played was an confession of faith: some of us had travelled for hours to get there, it was freezing, it was wet, and we were on broomsticks that didn't fly. Only radical faith could have possessed us to do something so seemingly pointless.
Both teams, our refs, and our spectators crossed the street to the nearest coffeeshop when the game ended. "Stand up and preach!" my captain told me, when the conversation turned to NIHN and some of those in attendance had yet to learn about it or the HPA. Somehow, the foolish act of travelling for hours just to playing a "fictional" sport in the pouring rain became an opportunity to work for justice in creative ways. Someone told me today that they already sent in their cease and desist letter, and another asked me for more information on how to get involved.
We have no reason to believe that fair trade chocolate frogs could change the world. We have no reason to believe that children can free slaves. We have no reason to believe that our small voices could ever make a difference, but we know that, like Harry, have "power the Dark Lord knows not": love.
Unethical labour practices are a pretty huge issue to tackle, but we carry with us the stories of Harry and his friends, stories of chocolate frogs which changed the world, of children freeing slaves, and of small voices making a difference. We carry with us the story that love wins, and that is what Christianity has forgotten. We have forgotten the stories which once fueled early Christians, but we only need return to our beloved tales to reclaim that power the darkness of our world knows not: love.
Maybe the early Christians didn't play sports on broomsticks that couldn't fly; maybe they point sticks at each other and say funny words, knowing full well nothing would happen; maybe they didn't have costume contests and Jesus conventions—but they, like the HPA, seemed to believe that love really does win. They believed that they possessed the incontrovertible truth that love is too powerful to ever lose, and they believed that their hero, Jesus, lived on through them, just as Harry Potter's lost loved ones lived on through him. They believed in resurrection.
Christianity in the 21st century doesn't believe in these things, no matter which side of the political and theological divides on which you find yourself. Either the God of Wrath will spitefully wipe out and destroy the wicked, or the God of Forgiveness is just too passive to infringe upon the so-called "rights" of others to spew hate. The God who makes "justice roll on like a river and righteousness like an never-failing stream" (Amos 5:24, NIV) has been forgotten by the majority of Christianity.
Yesterday, as the NIHN campaign re-launched, I played an intense and muddy Quidditch match against a rival team in pouring rain. Our very presence at the park in which we played was an confession of faith: some of us had travelled for hours to get there, it was freezing, it was wet, and we were on broomsticks that didn't fly. Only radical faith could have possessed us to do something so seemingly pointless.
Both teams, our refs, and our spectators crossed the street to the nearest coffeeshop when the game ended. "Stand up and preach!" my captain told me, when the conversation turned to NIHN and some of those in attendance had yet to learn about it or the HPA. Somehow, the foolish act of travelling for hours just to playing a "fictional" sport in the pouring rain became an opportunity to work for justice in creative ways. Someone told me today that they already sent in their cease and desist letter, and another asked me for more information on how to get involved.
We have no reason to believe that fair trade chocolate frogs could change the world. We have no reason to believe that children can free slaves. We have no reason to believe that our small voices could ever make a difference, but we know that, like Harry, have "power the Dark Lord knows not": love.
Unethical labour practices are a pretty huge issue to tackle, but we carry with us the stories of Harry and his friends, stories of chocolate frogs which changed the world, of children freeing slaves, and of small voices making a difference. We carry with us the story that love wins, and that is what Christianity has forgotten. We have forgotten the stories which once fueled early Christians, but we only need return to our beloved tales to reclaim that power the darkness of our world knows not: love.
