An unexpected splash of color appeared on and off the quidditch pitch in early December. I expect to see more of in the times ahead. The reason is simple: muggleborns need to be visible.
The muggleborn experience is unique. It is also traumatic, and stressful.
I grew up certain I knew how the world worked. That magic, dragons, and flying brooms were merely things of fiction. I thought myself lucky for falling and not breaking a bone, which looking back I now know was my magic manifesting.
Then at only 11-years-old, I was taken from my family, my friends, and everything I ever knew. I was brought into a world at war because people valued too greatly who my parents were - or weren’t in this case.
I did not choose to be muggleborn. I did not choose to wield magic. Yet, I could not deny that ability any more than I could stop my lungs from inhaling.
I came of age in a society that expected me to be ashamed of my family. I was bullied and teased for being a ‘mudblood.’ I was beaten. Too often I had to ignore or brush off the compliments about my accomplishments ‘despite my blood.’ And lest we forget, I spent nine months in Azkaban prison for ‘stealing magic.’
I wear pink because I am declaring that I proud of who I am. I am proud of my mother and father who have endlessly tried to understand what it means that I professionally dodge iron cannon balls dozens of feet in the air while trying to put a ball throw floating hoops.
I wear pink because I want every other muggleborn out there to know they are not alone. We are here. We share in your struggle.
I wear pink because there is not a day I am not aware of my blood status, and I wish to no longer be silent.
I wear pink because I must.
I wear pink as a promise that I will keep fighting for equality for all in the magical world.
I will keep wearing pink until we arrive at a point where it doesn’t matter the purity of our blood, but rather the strength of our character.