Remembering What We Are Fighting For

My wife and I recently attended an event in Manassas, Virginia, to fulfill the birthday present I had given her the previous month. The gift was tickets to hear Rick Riordan and Mark Oshiro discuss their new book, The Court of the Dead: A Nico DiAngelo Story. It’s the second book in a spin-off series they’re co-writing, set in the Percy Jackson universe.

The entire universe is a playful take on the question: “What if the Greek gods from mythology were real, adapted to modern-day conventions, and had children who were half-mortal?” The main series and its sequel follow the story of Percy Jackson, who discovers at age twelve that he’s a child of Poseidon. It turns out his ADHD and dyslexia were actually signs of his demigod powers.

As such, the series has been widely loved by youth who feel different, outcast, or otherwise “not normal” by conventional standards. My wife—who also has ADHD and dyslexia—has long loved Percy Jackson and the other universes Riordan has either created or nurtured through his publishing imprint, Rick Riordan Presents. How could I let this opportunity pass us by?

As one might expect, the event was packed with middle and high school students clad in Percy Jackson attire, from cosplay to merchandise. But we were hardly the only adults without children in tow. Plenty of young adult fans (some also in cosplay) were there, along with a few adorable elderly couples, all crammed into a high school auditorium.

I expected a typical author talk, but Riordan and Oshiro know their audience. Instead of simply answering interview questions, they staged a play-esque show in which they were put “on trial.” They were defendants in their very own “court of the dead,” complete with a judge (wig, gavel, and all) interrogating them and an undead bailiff (a skeleton-costumed actor) demanding order in the court.

Through this whimsical setup, they tackled all the questions they likely would have been asked anyway, but presented them as “charges” they had to defend against. Some charges included “changing your career,” “changing your genre,” and even “changing your style.” The show even featured mildly embarrassing photos of the authors, which they had to explain.

The crowd laughed, clapped, and cheered throughout, especially when the authors revealed something about the new book or shared a challenge they’d overcome. At one point, Oshiro admitted they felt like “rock stars” because they’d never presented to such an excited crowd. The kids were so eager that Riordan and Oshiro often couldn’t finish their sentences.

The auditorium reached peak energy when Riordan and Oshiro spoke about why Nico DiAngelo’s story matters so much to them. DiAngelo is a gay Latino adolescent who has survived nearly insurmountable odds to begin building a life he loves—a life that includes his boyfriend, Will Solace.

When discussing these themes, Riordan and Oshiro said that now more than ever, we need stories about people of all kinds who experience the world in beautiful ways. Stories that center kindness and respect for differences. Stories that show intolerance doesn’t win. The room practically exploded in response.

As I listened to that eruption of joy from mainly young people, I was overcome by the sheer vibrancy of the space. This generation is often dismissed as detached, apathetic, or uncaring—and frankly, who can blame them? 

The United States isn’t investing in their futures. This administration is failing to ensure queer youth have access to the medicine and care they need. They’re not being given an economy that promises financial security.

These kids see the violence. They see the hate. They’re just as aware as we are of the state of affairs in this country.

But they also remind us of the world we’re fighting for. That night, I saw a glimpse of the world we could create:

A place where people are free to be their queer, nerdy selves.
A place where art and stories are celebrated.
A place where good triumphs and evil doesn’t get the final word.

To me, that sounds a lot like God’s kin-dom come on earth as it is in heaven.

In that auditorium, those kids reminded me why we’re expending so much energy right now: not just to imagine such a world, but to build and protect it.

I know it feels hopeless. Each day, the headlines grow darker. But as we continue fighting the threat of fascism at our doorstep, we must remember why we’re fighting.

If we’re fighting only for the sake of fighting, then we’ll lose. If we remember we’re fighting to preserve joy, then perhaps we’ll make it through. If the young people can hold onto joy, so can we.

Find your joy. Hold it tight. Don’t let the weight of this moment strip it away. 

Let it be your motivation to keep moving forward.