Open Letter to Joss Whedon

Dear Joss Whedon;

You have broken my heart. I embraced you as a genius, a hero, a feminist. I invited you into my home, introduced my children to you. I brought you into my classroom, introduced my students to you. Used your speaking in my speech class, your stories as narrative examples. I was proud to be a fan, not just because of your creative gifts, but because of the beliefs you shared about women. Your strong female characters were an inspiration to me. You were a successful artist who not only created worlds I loved but lifted those around you. I noticed the actors who followed you from one series to another, and I respected your dedication to helping those artists grow. In my mind my dedication to your work was both noble and warranted. Revising my belief in you is acutely painful. It isn’t just painful watching you, who I idolized, fall from the throne where I placed you, but horrifying realizing what I did to keep you there.

When your ex-wife, Kai Cole, came forward and told her truth, I reacted much the way she did. “My brain could not fit [… your] deceit” with my belief in you.1 So, I didn’t. I set her well written, and heartfelt letter aside in my mind and continued to believe, “that [you were] one of the good guys, committed to fighting for women’s rights, […] and the women [you] worked with.” 2 Then Ray Fisher came out saying you created a “toxic work environment.”3 Again, I found excuses. I read articles about Ray that criticized him. Thus, allowing me to keep you on your throne.

Today, Charisma Carpenter wrote a truth I tried to ignore. As a writer you know, though, three is a magic number. You were cruel to her, you who were a genius, a feminist, a gift to science fiction and fantasy. As I read her letter, I tried to justify why her truth might not be universal. Her admission of crying while writing struck me as melodramatic. As I digested her letter and read responses from her peers, despite the fiction I had created about you, I could no longer ignore, no longer pretend, you are the man I believed in. You have been lying. You created a persona to benefit yourself, and I enabled you.

You may have hurt Ms. Cole and Mr. Fisher, but I owe them an apology. I should have taken their truth seriously. Though I am no one in their lives, or in yours, you are someone in mine. I allowed you leeway I would never allow someone for whom I am important. If these allegations had targeted someone in my life, I would have opened a conversation. I wouldn’t have ignored it. Even if the allegations hadn’t been correct, something must have happened to cause the situation. I would have dug to find out what, and how we could address it in a healthy way. But for you, I did something shameful, I betrayed my beliefs, and myself. I made excuses. No, I didn’t write mean things, or disparage them in response to their claims; no, I didn’t defend you publicly. But, I did defend you privately and in my own mind, I refused to give their claims credence.

And, though Ms. Carpenter’s admission of weeping struck me as odd, you should know I, too, am crying. As I write, edit, and rewrite these sentences, I am going through a pile of tissues. I don’t cry pretty. My shame is my own for not listening to those brave enough to come forward earlier. However, you had the power to be great, to bring change, to live the life you pretended to be living, and that you didn’t is your fault. And that you made that choice is a disappointment worthy of breaking a heart, as you have broken mine.

Timber Holmes

1&2.Cole, Kai, 2017. https://www.thewrap.com/joss-whedon-feminist-hypocrite-infidelity-affairs-ex-wife-kai-cole-says/

3. Vary, Adam B., 2020. https://variety.com/2020/film/news/ray-fisher-joss-whedon-justice-league-1234695831/