Principles or Nah

Point B

Dear Sami,

The last letter I wrote you, I hung around outside arenas for around twelve hours, because I wanted to hand it to you in person. There was a lot of emotion in that letter for me, and I wanted that personal touch.

That letters follows, so that this journey can be seen in its entirety.

This time, though, I’m writing to let you know that you kinda broke my heart.

I’m a trans nonbinary person. I grew up in North Carolina and wasn’t able to even admit it to myself until my 30s. So when I saw your segment with Bobby Lashly’s sisters on Raw, it was crushing. I couldn’t even finish watching it live.

You’re even more private than most people who work for that company, and so while I have been a massive fan, and donated to SAMS every payday, etc., I don’t really know anything about you. You seemed pretty liberal. You like punk music.

I made assumptions, and that was a mistake. I assumed you were on my side in the fight against those who would dehumanize me and lie about me. I assumed you had my back, because you’ve said supportive things about Laura Jane Grace.

So even if you were bothered about that segment, I’ll never know. I’ll never know what justification was used, by you or them--”Oh don’t worry, Sami will get his comeuppance!” or simply, “You like getting paid, right?”

All I know, all I am allowed to know, is that you performed this. Maybe you’re just incredibly ignorant of the ways black men have been played for laughs in history, maybe you’re somehow unaware of the bathroom bill and (in spite of the fact that it has literally never, ever happened) the assertion that men in dresses will trick and assault people…

Does that possibly sound familiar, Mr. Zayn? No, you know what, Mr. Sebei, because let’s be real with each other. You chose, submitted, whatever, to contribute to propaganda that directly affects my life, so I think I’ll feel free to use that name this once.

My friends and I have been trying to comfort each other. One person, who has written many excellent essays about your history and who deserves so much better, can’t even directly speak about it. You have earned the love of some of the kindest, most devoted, intelligent fans I’ve ever seen in my life, and you have shaken that love to its core. And in spite of that, so many of them assure me that I should give you another chance.

That we can’t know what affects a choice like that.

That you’re just a human and humans are a mess.

That the fact that this directly supports the assertions of this administration shouldn’t be held against you.

Sure. Okay. I can accept that, and I can accept that I’ll never know more than what I saw on TV.

I have a very, very hard time with the idea that you may be living your life unaware of what you’ve done to people who love you. Forget me, I mean people who *love* you, who do art for you, and research, and writing--I’m far more concerned for them than me. I can take it, I just don't want to.

WWE will never admit that it’s done harm, and they’ll never let you either. You certainly didn’t mean to, but you gave me the gift of music back in my life.

So this is me returning the favor: please accept this gift of the full and certain knowledge that you have hurt the minority with the highest risk of suicide in the US. You have hurt people who have devoted dozens of hours to promoting you and loving you and getting others to love you, too.

Oh, Sami. I am so unbearably disappointed in you. It was bad enough when you called Daniel Bryan a housewife as if it were an insult--at least then you went on Talk is Jericho and walked it back a little. Even if you did that this time, I wouldn’t believe you. I’d just be waiting for the next time you throw your fans under the bus.

Maybe I'm wrong, and this isn't part of the propaganda that precedes the horror. Wouldn't that be nice? I've read On Tyranny too, though. Perhaps you should read it again.

I really, foolishly, hope there's a happy ending for us here,

Autumn


Point ADear Rami,

I’m zealous enough about my own to respect your privacy. That said, you’re the one who deserves the thanks for the art, not Sami or Generico.

I’m a new fan. I’ve been watching wrestling for about a year--and I’m a little older than you. I was very wrong about wrestling for a long time. I thought it was rich white people bilking poor white people out of their money and time. Related: my husband and I decided that our family motto should be stultabimus iterum: we will dumb again.

The New Day broke that all down for me, and then I fell in love with wrestling hard. Once I figured out that it was commedia del’arte style theatre with live stunts, I was hooked. I’ve been obsessed with stories my whole life, and I’ve never met a character more joyful or delightful than El Generico. The closest I can think of is Cyrano de Bergerac. The way you move, then and now, makes me gasp, it’s so beautiful. It feels like you have a string tied straight to my heart.

I found wrestling when I badly needed an escape, something to spark my imagination and help me dream again. And it’s given me so much more than I could have hoped for: friends, a community, one of the very happiest days of my life...The New Day broke the door down, but Sami Zayn and El Generico took me by the hand and *showed* me how wonderful wrestling can be--how deep and charming and meaningful. I could never thank you enough. You’ve given me so much joy and heartbreak and more laughter than I had the whole year previous to this one. I’ve watched dozens of hours of PWG, I’ve been to my first wrestling shows, I was taunted (delightfully!) by Colt Cabana--it’s all thanks to you.

I always say that when I find an artist I trust, I’ll follow them down any dark metaphorical alley they want to explore. You are one of those artists. Look, I’m a fat, weird, queer person: there’s always going to be wide swaths of wrestling that want nothing to do with me. But somehow your work makes me feel included and safe. You follow the news: I’m certain you know exactly how rare it is to feel safe in this world.

I can never thank you enough, but I have to try.

PS: I named my (orange) cat La Generica. Ginny for short. She is the best and most affectionate cat I’ve ever seen, so I think she’s well-named.