Migration in “Avatar: The Last Air Bender”

by Theodora Charalambous

Avatar: The Last Airbender (also referred to as ATLA, Avatar and Avatar: The Legend of Aang), is an animated television series produced by the Nickelodeon Animation Studio and first aired in 2005. The series is set in a fantasy world, heavily inspired by Asia cultures, in which “benders” can manipulate the four elements; air, fire, water and earth. The avatar, whose role is to maintain harmony among the four nations, is the only one capable of bending all four elements. The story follows Aang, the current avatar and last surviving air bender, together with his friends Katara, Sokka and Toph, in their quest to defeat Fire Lord Ozai and end the Fire Nation’s war, while avoiding capture from the exiled Fire Nation’s prince Zuko as he seeks to restore his lost honour. 

Despite ATLA being a children’s show, it has cultivated a fanbase of all ages and is described by many to be one of the greatest animated television series of all time. Blurring the lines between adult and youth entertainment by including adult themes, such as genocide, imperialism and war, contributed to the series wild success. 

In my blog post I will discuss how migration is portrayed in ATLA throughout the four Nations.

The Air Nomads 

The Air Nomads had no permanent home but rather they moved between the four air temples, that were located in each corner of the globe. Those who defied the pacifist and peaceful way of life of the Air Nomads were forced in exile and would often permanently settle in another nation. Such are the cases of the monk Kelsang and nun Jesa (The Rise of Kyoshi, 2019). 

After the Air Nomad Genocide caused by the Fire Nation, most air temples remained abandoned, while the Northern Air Temple became occupied by Earth Kingdom refugees. (ATLA S1, E17)

Aang lived most of his adult life traveling in order to fulfil his air Nomad duties. The Air Temple Island, which is located off the coast of Republic City in Yue Bay in Western Earth Kingdom, became the permanent home of his family and the place where his three children were raised. (The Legend of Korra S1, E1)

The Fire Nation

Fire Nation colonies were established in the Earth Kingdom far before the Air Nomad genocide, under the rule of Fire Lord Sozin. His plans were temporarily paused, after he was confronted by Avatar Roku, however the piece didn’t last long as the Fire Nation started expanding its colonies soon after the Air Nomad genocide took place.(ATLA S3, E6)

During the Hundred Year War, Fire Nation citizens were permitted to travel between the homeland and the colonies. Consequentially, many Fire Nationals decided to leave the Fire Nation and settled in the colonised territories in the Earth Kingdom. As seen in Season 3: Episode 2, “The Headband” the returnees were looked down upon by the homeland inhabitants and were considered to lack proper etiquette and education.

The Water Tribes 

The Water Tribe consists of the Northern and Southern Water Tribes, which reside near both poles. As migration between the two regions is very common, many tribe members have friends and family on the other side of the globe and the two tribes reunite during the New Moon Celebration. Additionally, Northern tribe women would often migrate to the Southern regions, in order to escape their tribe’s patriarchal social traditions, which prohibited women from learning water bending (ATLA S1,E18). During the Hundred Year War outbreak many Southern Water Tribe water benders were taken as prisoners  and were forcibly moved to the Fire Nation to be used as slaves.

Alongside the Northern and Southern Water Tribes exists the less known Froggy Swamp Tribe. This tribe consists of descendants of Southern Water Tribe members who migrated to the Froggy Swamp, a wetland in the southwestern Earth Kingdom, prior to the Hundred Year War. Due to the harsh environment of the swamp, the Froggy Water Tribe developed a new water bending style, swamp bending. Moreover, they are culturally distinct from the two other water tribes and their speech is often described as less sophisticated (ATLA S2, E4).

The Earth Kingdom

The most prominent example of immigration in ATLA finds itself in Book Two: Earth, the second season of the show. As previously mentioned, the Earth Kingdom was heavily colonised by the Fire Nation years before the Air Nomad genocide. A new wave of refugees seeking sanctuaries in other regions of the Earth Kingdom, predominantly the city of Ba Sing Se, ensued from the outbreak of the Hundred Year War. In order to provide transportation to safety for the refugees, hidden stations and transportation hubs such as the Full Moon Bay were established throughout the Nation. However, escaping the colonies was not an easy task for everyone, as the immigrant relief system had its own biases as to who is worthy enough to be saved. The national immigration officials would only allow those with official documents to board the ferries. Those of elite status were able to surpass the regulations and were immediately granted access on the ferries. The show illustrates this in episode 12 of season 2, when Toph was provided with not one but four tickets due to her elite status as a member of the Beifong family, one of the wealthiest families in the East Kingdom. Contrary to Toph’s special treatment Aang, who didn’t own a passport, was immediately refused a ticket. The officer proclaimed “If I gave away all the tickets there would be no more order, no more civilisation.”, once again revealing the systematic classism which the refugee transportation hubs and the city of Ba Sing Se operated under. Less fortunate refugees with no official documentation were neglected by the state and forced to travel through a dangerous route known as the Serpent’s Pass. The lucky few who survived this alternate route were granted asylum upon their arrival at Ba Sing Se. Refugees traveling by ferry had to undergo less than ideal circumstances themselves, having to sleep on dirt and provided with meals consisting of expired and rotten ingredients, while the captain was having lavish meals. Amongst those aboard the ferries, Zuko and his uncle Iroh were forced to flee in the Earth Kingdom disguised as refugees, after being labeled as traitors to the Fire Nation.

Despite the impenetrable walls of Ba Sing Se signifying hope for the refugees, the life they were offered was one of poor quality and discrimination. The inhabitants of Ba Sing Se were divided into three walled ring districts, based on their social and economical status. The Lower Ring consisted of the majority of the city’s population, those are mainly the poor classes, newcomers and the refugees. Due to the Lower Ring being the most dense populated the housings were very small and the crime rates significantly higher then the other two Rings. The Middle Ring housed the middle class population as well as contained the city’s shopping district, whereas the Upper Ring is the place of residence of the upper class including government and military officials. If granted permission citizens of the Lower Ring were allowed to travel to the Middle Ring, however lower class citizens had no access to the Upper Ring and therefore the poor were completely separated from the rich. In his attempt to conceal the war from Ba Sing Se, the Earth King employed Dai Li, an elite secret police force, to micro-surveillance all refugees and punish anyone who goes against the code of silence (ATLA S2, E14). 

Conclusion:

At a first glance migration may not seem to be a major theme in ATLA, nevertheless the series has done an excellent job at exploring the different reasons as to why people choose or are forced to migrate. ATLA reveals the very true and dark reality that many had and still have to experience due to war.

References: 

Avatar: The Last Airbender. Created by Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko. Nickelodeon Animation Studio. (February 21, 2005 – July 19, 2008)

Yee, F. C. (author), DiMartino, Michael Dante (author). (July 16, 2019). The Rise of Kyoshi. Amulet Books.

Hughes, Kiku (writer), Beck, Sam (artist), Ng, Killian (colorist), Betancourt, Jimmy; Starkings, Richard (letterer). “Clearing the Air” (August 14, 2021), Dark Horse Comics.

“Welcome to Republic City”. The Legend of Korra. Book One. Air. DiMartino, Michael Dante, Konietzko, Bryan (writers) & Dos Santos, Joaquim, Ryu, Ki Hyun (directors). Nickelodeon Animation Studio. (April 14, 2012).

Migration and Identity in Persepolis

The graphic novel “Persepolis” by Marjane Satrapi presents the theme of migration and identity in a funny yet thought-provoking manner. I had read the novel a long time ago, but I decided to give it another read after I left my own country, in pursuit of a better education, and a better life. I wasn’t surprised when I could relate more to Marjane and her experience as a foreigner in Austria, far away from home and everything she had found comfort in. The crisis of searching for one’s own identity and roots in an unknown land is portrayed light-heartedly, but those panels weigh more than what meets the eye.  

The novel follows the life of a young girl named Marjane as she navigates her way through a changing world, and the impact that migration has on her sense of self. The story begins with Marjane growing up in Tehran, Iran, during the 1970s, a time of relative stability and prosperity. However, as the political situation in Iran becomes more and more volatile, Marjane’s parents decide to send her to Austria to attend school. This decision represents a major turning point in Marjane’s life, as she is forced to confront the challenges of living in a foreign country and adapting to a new culture.

Marjane struggles to find a sense of belonging in Austria, as she feels alienated from both her Iranian heritage and her new Austrian surroundings. She faces racism and discrimination from her classmates, who view her as an outsider. We see how she was treated as an outsider and exploited even by people who she thought cared for her. Later, a panel shows her recalling how she was called a “dirty foreigner” by an old man in the metro. Marjane’s parents, on the other hand, try to maintain her connection to her Iranian roots by sending her care packages filled with traditional foods and clothing. This leads to a sense of confusion and dislocation for Marjane, as she struggles to reconcile her Iranian identity with her experiences in Austria.

As the story progresses, Marjane returns to Iran after the fall of the Shah and the establishment of the Islamic Republic. She is initially excited to be back in her home country, as she says “…and so much for my individual and social liberties… I needed so badly to go home”, but soon realises that Iran has changed in ways that she did not expect. The strict dress codes, the suppression of women’s rights, and the violence of the Iranian regime all contribute to Marjane’s growing disillusionment with her homeland. She becomes increasingly critical of the government and its policies, and begins to see herself as a rebel and a non-conformist.

Throughout “Persepolis,” Marjane’s experiences of migration and displacement shape her sense of self and her understanding of the world around her. Her story highlights the complex ways in which identity is constructed and negotiated in the context of migration. As Marjane moves between different cultures and contexts, she is forced to confront the limitations and possibilities of her own identity, and to negotiate the tensions and contradictions that arise from her experiences of migration and displacement.

 Marjane’s story highlights the challenges and opportunities that arise from migration, and the ways in which it can shape an individual’s sense of self and understanding of the world. By exploring these themes through the lens of a young girl’s experiences, Satrapi offers a unique perspective on the complexities of migration and identity, and the ways in which they intersect and shape one another.

Impressions and Review of Safdar Ahmed’s Graphic Novel Still Alive: Notes from Australia’s Immigration Detention System

by Angela Agelopoulou

I decided to analyze Safdar Ahmed’s Still Alive: Notes from Australia’s Immigration Detention System for the class “Migration in Visual Narratives”, which deals with the migration journey portrayed in various types of visual narratives.

Introduction

As I had already participated in a seminar that dealt with migration to Australia and the conditions in Australia’s detention centres, I was very interested to read Safdar Ahmed’s graphic novel. While the full graphic novel was published in 2021, a small part had already been published online as the webcomic Villawood: Notes from an immigration detention centre in 2015. I will make a close comparison between these two narratives in the following subpoint, however, I want to first summarize the plot of Still Alive briefly.  The graphic novel shows the stories and lives of refugees being kept in an immigration detention centre in Villawood, Sydney.  These people find themselves seeking asylum in Australia due to war and violence in their home countries. While it is the task of the Australian government to protect the refugees, the graphic novel shows the cruel reality of those needing protection: The refugees are faced with great challenges during their journey by boat but also upon arrival. All stories told in Still Alive are based on true events, as Ahmed ran art classes in Villawood and there met refugees willing to share their stories.

Impressions

Even though I do have some knowledge about Australia’s detention centres, going through Still Alive was a very heartbreaking experience for me, as I felt deep sorrow while reading and seeing the stories of the refugees. I was overwhelmed by a sad and sickening feeling while going through both, the graphic novel and the webcomic. One thing I found especially shocking was the slogan of Serco, being “people are our business”. The slogan emphasizes that asylum seekers are not seen as human beings but as objects. Furthermore, it was also horrifying to read about the terrible treatment of the refugees (being physically and mentally abused and not being allowed to mourn their loved ones). The webcomic and the graphic novel do have some minor differences, for example, the graphic novel, unlike the webcomic, does not make use of colors, further emphasizing the hopelessness of the refugees. Moreover, the graphic novel has considerably more panels that are clustered together (emphasizing the feeling of being trapped) and uses a horror aesthetic, which should make it easier to talk about difficult topics, such as trauma. While these two narratives differ from one another, the effect they have on their readers stays the same: engaging with the graphic novel and the webcomic takes an emotional toll on the readers and shows the cruel reality of the world we are living in.

Art as a way of coping with trauma

The asylum seekers arriving in the detention centre knew that their migration journey would be long and dangerous. They knew that they decided to go on a journey, where they might be abused, experience loss, or even die. What they didn’t know was that their struggles would continue once arriving in the country that should keep them safe. The conditions in Australia’s detention centres are beyond cruel. The refugees are being controlled 24/7 and moving is heavily restricted. Detention centres resemble high-security prisons, where the guards abuse those detained for no reason. They are also the reason for self-harm, depression, and anxiety. Still Alive shows how the refugees deal with these feelings by drawing out their experiences, their situation, and also their migration journey. One refugee’s drawing for example shows a chessboard surrounded by barbed wire, while another shows a Taliban soldier holding four heads with the title of the drawing being “Death”. Especially in detention centres, where recordings are strictly prohibited, drawing is an effective way of expressing one’s feelings. Moreover, it is a way for the refugees to be in control and also to experience freedom. In the graphic novel, Ahmed describes the importance of art as followes: “Art and storytelling allow trauma to be visualized, externalized, and re-embedded in its context, which provides a greater feeling of safety and distance from it over time.” (22)

Conclusion

Still Alive by Safdar Ahmed gives a voice to the people who don’t often have one. The drawings and photographs portrayed in the graphic novel remind the readers of the lives being abused in Villawood, but also in other detention centres. It is a call to rise up and support the refugees and reject Australia’s detention centres that do not recognize the refugees’ lives. 

Voyeuristic Curiosity: Thoughts on Safdar Ahmed’s “Villawood”

Safdar Ahmed’s Villawood: Notes from an Immigration Detention Center depicts the treatment of immigrants in Australian detention center, Villawood. Through his webcomic, Ahmed shares the stories of several refugees while also showcasing the center’s cruel conditions and unfair treatment of its residents. 

Voyeuristic Curiosity

In a particular poignant panel set, a woman asks a refugee about his past, wondering why he left and the traumas he endured. Instead of answering, the man turns the tables and demands the woman spill her worst trauma. In three simple panels, Ahmed shows the danger of entitlement to someone’s life story. Migrants are more than stories to be read. They are real people affected by their past and living in the present. They are not here to satiate someone’s morbid curiosity. Even Ahmed notes that he feels “like a prick for being so voyeuristic in the first place.” 

Humanizing the Human

Ahmed, then, is tasked with a difficult objective: he must humanize the Villawood residents without turning them into palpable packages of trauma for the average reader to consume and feel good about themselves. He must skirt the line of “trauma-porn” while also showcasing the cruel realities these migrants are subjected to. A webcomic like his attracts the morbid voyeur, so how can he tell a story that doesn’t serve to satiate the sadist in us and instead serves as a platform for the Villawood residents to unearth their experiences? Ahmed does this in several ways that, as a reader, I found both impactful and respectful. Through the use of voice and perspective, Ahmed allows specific individuals to tell their own stories. As they narrate, he gives us information on who they are and formats their experiences in webcomic form. His own perspective sits on the sideline. In this way, Villawood becomes neither a feel-good story or an onslaught of oppression and trauma. It transcends to something higher: a true story about true people told to highlight the oppressive system and the specific people it affects.

The Story of Villawood: Told from the Inside

In the first chapter, “First Impressions,” Ahmed sets the scene of Villawood’s strict rules and regulations. Ahmed begins the comic by stating what’s not allowed in Villawood: no phones, cameras, cash, or sharp objects. After being searched, Ahmed is thrust under the watchful eye of a security camera. The center reads more prison than safe haven. Tall fences and barbed wire. Handcuffs and guard dogs. With such harsh imagery, it’s easy to imagine the people there must also be cold and hardened. Ruthless criminals rather than refugees seeking safety.

While the chapter begins with Ahmed’s first impressions and his own perspective, it ends with artwork created by people Ahmed met in Villawood. Pencil drawings of their life before. We see they fled the threat of death and oppression for a prison of a different variety. They tell us this through their art, and they begin to take control of the narrative. Ahmed’s thoughts quickly give way to the voices of the people inside Villawood.

The second chapter, “Ahmad,” focuses on the specific experiences of Ahmad Ali Jafari, a Hazara refugee. Ahmed humanizes him by sharing specific traits of Ahmad’s in the beginning of the chapter. He is not a faceless name or a blanket character for the whole of the refugee experience to be thrust upon. He is a real person with individual quirks. An artist, a poet, and a victim of Villawood’s cold cruelty. Ahmed even includes a photo of Ahmad in the webcomic, putting substance to the man besides pencil drawings and cartoons. One important thing to note is that Ahmed uses a photo that Villawood residents hung up as a form of protest and call to action. The residents themselves want the truth of Ahmad’s death to be spread. The story is shared, not appropriated. 

In the third chapter, Ahmed continues to share their story. He follows specific people as they speak about education, loneliness, and mistreatment. The residents speak for themselves while Ahmed illustrates their experiences, a trend that seems to fill the majority of the webcomic. The difference between the voyeuristic woman demanding to know a man’s trauma is that she demanded answers while the residents take control of their own voice. The reader must trust that Ahmed only tells what the residents wanted to tell and that he only shares the artwork they wished to share.

What Next?

The final set of panels in the webcomic is especially telling. Refugee Haider Ali is granted release from Villawood. He is ecstatic while his caseworker tells him he can leave while his claims proceed. The caseworker, however, laments the extra load of paperwork on her part. The comic ends with Ali staring open-mouthed and shell-shocked, the phone still to his ear. He has endured the cruel conditions of the detention center, yet he is met with complete apathy when his situation changes. If someone as close to the system as a case worker cannot recognize Ali’s humanity and joy of escape, then what does that say not only about the system itself but how the rest of society treats migrants? Isn’t the burden of paperwork and overtime worth the goal of basic human decency and humane treatment?

The last panel suggests that Ali’s journey is not over. As a refugee, he will also be tainted by the knowledge the society in which he lives does not welcome him. He’s seen as a burden, unfairly throwing paperwork on someone who chose to make filling out that very same paperwork her profession. He escaped the Taliban only to be thrust into the hold of Villawood. And he has escaped Villawood only to be treated with apathy, his celebration cut short before it truly starts. In this way, Ahmed challenges our own role within the “refugee crisis,” questioning our presuppositions while also maintaining we have no right to demand these stories from these people. Any story we listen to must be freely given, and we cannot listen to the stories until we learn to humanize people like Ali—people who experience joy and pain. People whose victories must be celebrated, no matter what may come next. And, ultimately, we must take up the burden of paperwork—doing what must be done to reform the system and help the people it was designed to hurt.

My Impressions and Review of Trung Le Nguyen’s The Magic Fish

by Anne Schulzki

I decided to read Trung Le Nguyen’s The Magic Fish for week 5 of the class ‘Migration in Visual Narratives’, in which we talked about Migration in Digital Narratives / Vietnamese Refugee Tales in Graphic Novels.

Impressions

I had been interested in this graphic novel for quite a while but never got around to, and was thankfully not let down the least in any regard! I very much enjoyed reading this, especially because I found the use of colours in the narrative rather unique. The narrative has three parts: the present storyline, the fairytale, and some glimpses into the mother’s past and her journey from Vietnam to the US. The present is coloured in red/pink/magenta, the fairytale in dark blue/purple, and the mother’s past in yellow – which are the three primary colours. The colours not only clarify which panels belong to which part of the story, but by using them it also gave the story dimension. Sometimes, some panels are not coloured ‘correctly’, as one of Tien’s dreams is also represented in blue/purple like the fairytale narrative, possibly alluding to Tien’s belief that his dream will remain a dream – a fairytale – and will not become reality.

I loved that fairytales where interwoven in the narrative, used as a way for mother and son to bond, for the mother to learn English, but also seek help, advice, and communicate feelings and personal information by crossing the boundary of languages. The fairytale parts fitted the stories of Tien’s coming-out and his mother’s identity struggle, grief, and worries, and with that they gave them hope and answers. When they did not know how to communicate, or did not want to, they always grabbed the fairytale they were reading at that moment and continued, sometimes tweaking it a bit for it to fit their mood, struggles, worries, or emotions.

Migration in The Magic Fish

Migration as such is not the main focus of this story. Of course, Tien’s parents’ language barriers are mentioned and also illustrated within the narrative, but the aspect of the actual migration is only lightly touched upon (why his parents left Vietnam), but never their journey on its own. The aspect of migration that is most heavily touched on, however, concerns the feelings regarding leaving behind loved ones when leaving one’s home and not being able to see them for a long time. Tien’s mother was not able to go back to see her family once she left Vietnam, as it took her years to get hold of an American passport (because without it she could not have entered the US again). This feeling of hopelessness and remorse gnaws at his mother, especially after she receives bad news.

The other aspect of migration touched upon in this graphic novel is that of home. For Tien’s mother, home seems to have always been Vietnam, but after she went back, she felt as though she does not belong there anymore. So much has changed over the years (in Vietnam and she herself), that she is not all that familiar with her Vietnamese hometown anymore – which affects her. The other aspect of home – which is also dealt with in one of the fairytales – is that often times home seems to be supposed to be the place you come from, but that is a difficult concept when one has never been to ‘the place one came from’. This is often the case for second-generation immigrants who have never been to their ‘home country’ like Tien, and this has also been the case for Alera in the fairytale.

Finding oneself

And though these two aspects of migration are a big part in this story, the one that weaves through it all is Tien’s struggle to tell his parents about his sexuality – which is then again related to the struggles of migration. He does not know how to come out to his parents, as he does not know the correct words in Vietnamese, and he believes his parents will not understand him if he explains it in English. He researches at the library and talks to his friend about it, tries to find the right time to tell his parents/mother, but never succeeds. He is afraid of their reaction because of possible cultural differences, but in the end his coming-out is taken away from him. I will not go into any detail as to why and how (because of spoilers of course), but let me just say that it enraged me quite a bit.

Conclusion

All in all, I really enjoyed this graphic novel and its story. The art-style is beautiful, the use of colours and the interweaving of fairytales mesmerising, and it deals with many difficult topics in a very accessible and gentle way. To sum it up, it is a coming-of-age story filled with family, friendships, struggles, relationships, and fairytales.