This last Sunday, something happened that had never happened to me before. Something that, apart from putting me on the immediate defence, sent me down a soul-searching spiral.
I, Sabina Boyer, was accused of being… a Slytherin.
Shocking, I know.
Now, overall, I would say that I am not usually a touchy person. 99% of the time when someone teases or pokes at me, I have no problem at all letting it slide. I laugh it off or, depending on the person, I tease back (just ask Don Mink). But something about this nerdy accusation hit different. The moment it registered, I wasn’t thinking about how to joke back or laugh it off. Instead, all I could think was…
I really hope he’s wrong.
When J. K. Rowling made the four Hogwarts houses in the Harry Potter book series, she defined each by several key attributes. Gryffindors are brave and daring, Ravenclaws are wise learners and Hufflepuffs are trustworthy and hardworking. As for Slytherins… all their most notable traits can be summed up in one keyword: Ambitious.
That was the word that had me defensive Sunday night. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be associated with the villains that came from the Slytherin house (they are, after all, some of the best characters). It wasn’t that I didn’t like the house mascot or colors. Instead, it was the simple, honest fact that I had been accused of being ambitious… and that made me feel dirty.
Ambition has a weird place in our culture. On one hand, we look up to those whose ambition has led them to do great things. We see movie stars, innovators and Olympians and can’t help but admire their drive: the way that they have pushed themselves to the very highest level. We praise that spark that drove them to do what we feel like we could never do. Yet, we don’t use the word ambition very much when it comes to them. Endurance, maybe, or dedication, but not ‘ambition.’
No, we save ‘ambition’ for negative examples.
Over and over again in modern storytelling, we are shown that ambition is the lesser choice. Whether it is the family-friendly film that highlights how much happier people are settling down than making millions or the edgy biopic that demonstrates how ambition leads to self-destruction, the message is clear: ambition is the trap that pulls you away from the truly important things in life. It’s the lesser choice. The attribute that shows you have the potential to fall from grace.
It’s the thing to be ashamed of when someone calls you a Slytherin.
Some of the greatest people you will ever meet in this world are the ones who never did anything ambitious with their lives. They are the old woman at your church who bakes for every function. The mechanic who volunteers on the weekend. The nurse who holds the hands of the dying. They are the ordinary heroes spreading kindness in a thousand little ways.
But what if they aren’t the only heroes?
Martin Luther King Jr. Mother Teresa. Isaac Newton. William Shakespeare. There is a reason they are some of the most well-known names in human history, and it wasn’t because they were corrupted by the evils of being Slytherin. They were ambitious. They made the decision to dedicate themselves to something they cared about. They changed the world.
And that didn’t make them bad people.
There is no doubt that ambitions can turn into idols. When all someone desires is success, it is not surprising that they get a tragic biopic. But one thing we can forget is that there is a difference between worshipping success and striving for it. Being ambitious is not the same as living for our aspirations, and choosing to dedicate our lives to something we care about does not ban us from still showing love and kindness along the way.
There can be an idea in Christian circles that living a good life and living a simple life must be the same thing. We grow up thinking that a small life is a noble sacrifice, but Jesus did not have a small life. He traveled. He grew in influence. He taught His disciples to be some of the greatest influencers in the history of mankind. So maybe, rather than demonizing ambition, we should look at it for what it is: not a temptation to the dark side, but a sign that we may be called to step into something greater than ourselves.
Even if that means being pegged a Slytherin.
