How inclusion in Avatar the Last Airbender raised Gen Z and late Millennials to start the next societal revolution

Nickelodeon

By Jennifer Iacobino

“Millennial” has become an increasingly derogatory term for young people in current talk pieces when discussing the ills of the modern world. I find myself at the end of the millennial marker, being born in 1992, and my brother at the beginning of Gen Z in 1998. Uniquely, in that six-year age gap, there was one thing that overlapped: “Avatar the Last Airbender”. Airing between 2005 and 2008, Last Airbender was part of the Nickelodeon lineup, an Anime-style serialized animation produced in Hollywood about a mystical world where special people could be born with the ability to bend the four elements: water, earth, fire, and air. The Avatar, a reincarnated deity type, can bend all four elements and bring balance to the force, -er, I mean the world. 

What was profound about this show seems normal now but at the time was revolutionary. Television shows, especially for kids, emanating from the western world of Hollywood did not take place anywhere but the mall, beach, school, or neighborhood, aside from a few outer space set shows. But Last Airbender wanted to break the mold. They not only wanted to show that kids were capable of handling deep themes and intricate storylines but teach this generation to see beyond their raised perspective. 

The Last Airbender adopted Eastern philosophy, culture and mythos to create their world and magic system. Each nation’s bending was crafted from a different style of martial arts, therefore Earthbending visually looks different than Waterbending. In a classic western world-view where all martial arts look the same, Last Airbender showed through the philosophies of each of the bending styles; how the creation myths of those bending styles and culture are tied together, influencing each other. We, Millennials and Gen Z, were taught through world-building that all cultures have meaning and purpose behind their traditions and unknowingly were taught the skill of tolerance. We were diverged from our world view and saw another culture as the prominent one, and we loved it. It's hard to generalize when you know better. It’s hard to nationalize when you’ve been globalized.

In addition to the magic system on a more elemental level (pun intended), Last Airbender populated its world as diversely as the real one we live in. Last Airbender was the first children’s show to have a main character have a “disability”. In season one it introduced Teo, an earth kingdom kid who was in a wheelchair, yet learned to parasail and fly because he was inspired by the Air nomads. This was typical - a one-episode appearance of a kid with disabilities to teach the main character and in turn the audience a lesson. But they understood that real representation comes from different characters having equal importance to the show - and who better to showcase that than Toph Befong. 

Toph is blind but more importantly, she is an earthbender. Her family treats her like she is helpless because of her disability; but to the contrary, she is a master. Her blindness is not a hindrance to her earthbending, it's an asset. Like Beethoven, who composed music after he lost his hearing, she adapted. She uses her earth bending to see - similar to sonar. This allows her not just to excel as a bender but allows her the ability to do what no one else could. She could see the earth minerals in metal and invented metal bending, something to be considered impossible. Last Airbender broke the stereotype that people who are not “able-bodied''  are inherently broken, nor that they want to be “fixed”. They taught kids through Teo, and more important Toph, that who you are determines your abilities, not your body. 

Toph not only was a blind character but one of the main characters featured in a wide cast of female characters. Each with rich backstories and world views creating a spectrum of females so that no one girl character had to represent “all girls”. Often, female characters (if any are showcased) get type-cast into a specific category. You probably know them - the tomboy, the priss, the weird one, the homely one that will become hot by the end, and if they are the antagonist, they’re just a flat line bitch. But in Last Airbender, there’s not a single stereotype I can put their female characters in. They are given so much depth and range that the stereotype is too limiting. Toph could be seen as a “tomboy” but in one episode where she goes to a spa with Katara she actually ends up enjoying it. She comes out with makeup, hair done and is happy. It’s only soured when a group of girls made fun of her and she is wounded. She explains that she doesn't care how she looks because she likes who she is, but wished other people saw her the way she sees herself. That vulnerability...it’s not tomboy-ish at all. Azula, one of the most terrifying antagonists, is presented as calculating and cold; everything you think a female antagonist would be. But by the end of the series, she is completely unhinged and we get to see how fragile and broken she is. 

They filled their world with varied, complex, and deep characters, and had the revolutionary idea, “hey - what if they were also girls”. Because Katara was outspoken, Yue could be soft spoken. Toph was masculine, so Ti-Li could be feminine; Suki could be honorable, and Azula mischievous. This not only gave a wide range of characters girls could look up to, but boys could as well. It created a perfect example of classic feminism, where boys and girls saw that they could be themselves and equal. You can be feminine and also brave, strong, selfless. You can be a masculine and still want to feel pretty and be vulnerable. It showcased that they are not opposing ideas but part of a spectrum, much like the current conversation this generation is discussing concerning gender and gender expression. 

Finally, they even trusted their audience with mental health and abuse. A character bares a scar from the physical abuse he received from his father and the emotional turmoil it created. Zuko, like so many victims of abuse, is conditioned to seek their abuser's love, acceptance, and approval. It is only when he finally gets those things that he finds they are hollow. During his emotional transformation, he has to let go of his anger, his pain, and free himself. A child watching that, seeing the cycle of abuse be broken through their own agency is powerful. It showed this generation of kids that it is possible to move forward from it, to not let it define you. 

Furthermore, Zuko isn’t the only one damaged from their abusive home - Azula is a perfect example of fragile privilege. She is second born. This became a cornerstone in Azula’s psyche, her existence is a competition. But through her adoption of ruthlessness and expert firebending, she rose to be the favorite - and what do people do once they gain a privilege? Secure it by keeping their rivals down. We see this often in our world, that people are conditioned to desire the approval of their perceived superiors to elevate their status. “I’m not like other girls,” “I’m one of the good ones,” a model minority. In patriarchal, hierarchical, or capitalist systems, it is people at the lower rungs that are pitted against each other. Some rise, some fall, but all are victims of the system. Being able to recognize the pain behind someone’s actions does not excuse it, but helps us understand the broken system that created them - and in turn, change it.

With these themes and images as the foundation of our world view, it’s a wonder why older generations are stumped by our political activism, our outspokenness about societal ills and injustice. We see a world that doesn't match the ideals we were raised on. This show gave us a roadmap of recognition, transformation, and redemption. Most notably, the notorious live-action remake of the original series that outraged fans because of a whitewashed cast. It was one of the first openly discussed controversies where young fans (early twenty-year-olds) engaged and pushed forward the topic of diversity in the media, which can be traced to current mainstream conversations.

We were raised on a story of empathy. We learned to listen and were shown storylines to prepare us for what our world is actually like, and show characters fighting to change it. Rather than hang our heads low until retirement, we picked up our signs and fought to protect the environment, for awareness of mental health, justice for the abused, humanity for the less fortunate, and equal rights of LGBTQ+, women, disabled, and all people of color. We see the Firelord in all the oppressive and corrupt entities of our world and we call them out. 

Avatar the Last Airbender was made to push boundaries and break the mold - and we, its audience, became no different. It makes sense that most of the older generations don’t understand where all this revolution is coming from and attempt to discredit us through cheeky remarks. We may not be the Avatar who will bring balance to the world, but maybe together we can be our world’s version of Team Avatar - using our individual strengths to accomplish a common goal, of righting a wrong and working to overcome each other’s injustices. After all, if a ragtag group of determined kids could save their world, maybe we can save ours.