Aspiring Equal Oppertunity Feminist Granola girl.

Toph is highly emotionally intelligent but a lot of people don’t see it because we tend to associate empathy with femininity and Toph is an unfeminine girl who is unapologetic about who she is and what she wants and a lot of people will look at those types of characters and go “unfeeling murder child.”

I mean, she gives advice to Iroh about his relationship with Zuko, despite never having met zuko and despite Iroh being one of the wisest characters in the series who usually gives advice to others.

She cares deeply about her parents, despite knowing that they don’t understand her, and tries to live up to what they want from her and doesn’t want to worry them. WIth the money she was making in the earth rumble, she actually could have left on her own, but she obviously loves them and even after she runs away, she worries about causing them pain.

She was gutted when she couldn’t save Appa, and Aang accuses her of not caring but that’s clearly not true at all. She holds herself accountable for not being able to save everyone and spent most of that episode blaming herself for him getting taken.

She makes an effort to enjoy the spa day with Katara even though it wasn’t what she wanted to do because Katara is her friend and that was what Katara wanted to do.

She takes a “tough love” approach to teaching Aang earthbending but also tries to build up his confidence and is super excited for him when he finally gets it.

Her face when Iroh is hurt

and Jet

The way that she quickly forms emotional bonds with every single member of the gaang and gives them ridiculous affectionate nicknames.

“Do you really think friendships can last more than one lifetime?”

The way that she is the first one to believe in Zuko’s sincerity and defends him multiple times to the gaang even though he burned her because she knows it was an accident.

The way that she comforts Zuko and reassures him that Iroh still cares about him.

The way that she does rely on Katara as a motherly figure but also reassures Katara that she can still be a kid, too.

The way that she clings to Sokka, the guy who wants to be needed and feels like he needs to be the protector of this group of kids, but also has playful banter with him and can rival him for sarcasm.

The way that she gave up her comfortable life to join a fight that she wasn’t even involved in because other people needed her.

Yes, she can be rude and crude (and often does so on purpose), but she also deeply cares about people and forms strong bonds with every member of the gaang. She also has a deep understanding of other people that goes beyond just being able to detect when they’re lying through earthbending. She is really good at assessing people’s flaws and strengths. She sees no problem with cheating a cheater or pummeling some jerks into the dirt, and ignores stuffy social conventions if she sees no value in them, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have morals and doesn’t care about people.

cherripeachpop

You’re welcome! I do think book three somewhat dropped the ball on her development but Toph does have a lot of depth and one of my favorite things about her is that she’s a kind person but still fierce and independent, she isn’t just a meathead!

If Toph were just a meathead she wouldn’t steal absolutely every single scene she is in. Crude, rude, crass, and she does it all on purpose to find out exactly what kind of person she is dealing with by forcing a reaction, and in doing it that way she makes sure no one else can understand her back unless she wants them to.

Toph grew up in a highly successful merchants house. She would be fully aware of the power that comes from knowing what someone wants and them not knowing what you want in turn. She just figures it out through blunt force so no one even notices the finesse with which she is ending them until it’s happening. 

Heck I realized another thing thanks to that weird post about Aang’s arc

It’s that Aang’s arc should really be everyone’s ideal arc in real life. To be raised with good and sane principles and while we get confronted by the hostility in the world we never abandon the good core that we were raised with and makes us good people. Meaning we were as lucky as to grow up in a kind, loving, accepting environment that taught us to be like that, and no matter what shit we get thrown at by life, we stay kind and loving and accepting and we never stop caring or extending a hand in friendship where it’s needed.

And the fact that too many people don’t resonate with Aang and don’t recognize his character for the beacon it is meant to be really speaks volumes

This is the perfect time and place to post my Chief Kya theory. 😈

Chief Kya:

I know chief Kya is a popular headcanon amongst a fraction of the Zutara community and probably the atla community. But I have yet to see a post talking about the evidence of this idea being a reality. sooooo I’m going to do it!

Preface:

Exhibit A: Background

Kya is introduced in season 3, episode 16, The Southern Raiders. And by introduce, I mean established as a person with a personality and a face. We have had her referenced throughout the series, but this is the first time we officially meet her. It’s a short scene but powerful and purposeful. We did not meet her until this moment, meaning that she had a purpose, and it wasn’t just a face, she had lines, and that is what I want to focus on. This episode was about Katara getting closure, but we see more than just the flashback of Katara’s saw, but what came after was what Yon Rha saw. This was on purpose and gave more context to Why Kya did what she did and who she was as a person as well.

Exhibit B: Questions

1) Why did Yon Rha, the fleet’s leader, go to Kya Specifically?

2) Why is she so calm yet fearless in the face of a threat?

3) who was his source?

Disclaimer: These are questions I plan to address; however, only 2/3 of these questions have definite answers in the context of my claim. The last one is simply speculation of possibilities with some evidence to back it up based on the information we have been given throughout the show. That being said, Let’s begin…

Question one: Why did Yon Rha, the fleet’s leader, go to Kya Specifically?

The answer to this is simple; Kya is the chief. Who else would know better about her tribe than the leader? However, I want to break this down a bit first.

Counter argument: “They could’ve been questioning other people too.” That is true, and for all we know, they were. However, that brings me back to the original question. Why did Yon Rha, the fleet’s leader, go to Kya Specifically? He didn’t talk down to her, and we know the Fire Nation has no problem doing that. Therefore, she must have been held in some respect. And he knows he has all the power, but it looked as though they were in the middle of a negotiation. Which means she holds power in some respect.

This is proven because he listens to her plea, which means he’s confident that Kya does know the information. What would lead him to believe that with certainty? The rumor of the close-knit community? Sure that’s one way to look at it, but her defiance against him without fear is not someone who is a civilian, she holds herself with power and status.

She’s calm

But she’s also angry.

This leads me to question two:

Question two: Why is she so calm yet fearless in the face of a threat?

People can argue that Kya was putting on a brave face for her daughter, but that fierceness does not leave her face after Katara is gone. It returns tenfold.

She isn’t scared, she’s angry. She’s protective and will not back down in the face of an enemy.

However, things do change. They change when it’s revealed there is a source. And we will get to that part later. However, I first want to focus on her words following that information

Yon Rha: You’re lying. My source says there’s one waterbender left in the southern water tribe. We’re not leaving until we find the waterbender.

The response to this is the source of my claim

“If I tell you, will you leave the rest of the village alone?”

Now… We know Kya sacrificed herself to save Katara. She immediately lays her life down for Katara. That’s not a question. She did all this to save her daughter. But they also added the part of her tribe, and they could’ve had her say anything like, “if I tell you, will you leave my family alone?” She said, village specifically. The way she said it seemed like she was determined to keep her tribe safe

Yon Rha Agrees, her response is fearless, but her face shows us that she knows her fate is most likely not a matter of capture.

Aftermath:

As Araeph said, there was a decline in the south after Kya’s death, which could be supported by Hakoda being the chief and his grief. But I still don’t think it would be this drastic. We know Hakoda is a great strategist and strong warrior, but his strong suit was not likely that of management.

Final Question: Who was the source?

I’m going to be blunt and say, I have no real solid answer, but my best guess is that it was someone from the North. It is no secret that the North and the south do not get along. The state of difference in both tribe’s infrastructure is already telling of who holds more power. The fire nation and the North seem to have an amicable relationship, and the North did nothing to help the south in the original raids. The main question I have to ask is, why? Not just why the North would snitch on the south, but why is there no support from them at all? This is something we had never answered, and I hoped the comics North and South would explain it, but instead, we got the Sh*tfest of the North colonizing the south.

Furthermore, I would say there are many reasons the North and the South don’t get along, and one of the main things is most likely the sexism and lack thereof in the South. In “the puppetmaster,” we see a flashback from Hama’s point of view where the women are on the front lines of the battle, and the men are there too, but it leads me to believe that women were more powerful benders than the men.

We see further proof of this when we see just how many fire nation soldiers surround Hama.

We also get an easter egg in the form of a young Kanna talking to Hama, which implies the equality and female empowerment Kanna strived to find in the South was ultimately found.

What does this have to do with Kya being chief? It proves that women were not just equal but revered, meaning that a female chief was probably not only accepted but hoped for. 

Side note: This also explains Katara’s righteous anger and the need to help people. And a strong sense of responsibility. She got that from her mom. Not just her motherly traits, but her selfless leadership too.

Conclusion: 

Overall, this is simply an analysis of a scene that is about a minute, but in that minute, there is a lot to unpack and to analyze, which adds much room for speculation. However, Kya being Chief does answer some of the unanswered questions and adds more in regards to the lore of the Southern Water Tribe. And why Kanna left the North for the south. Because the South was more equal in regards to female empowerment.

thinking about atla thematics as usual and fascinated by how many fans insist they wanted aang to “grow up” more at the end of the series without considering how one of the show’s major themes is the terrible ways war and imperialism rob people of their childhoods. one of aang’s major gifts to every single character is restoring a piece of their lost or stolen or brutalized childhood. aang reminds katara there’s still joy in the world, and fuels her hope. he brings wonder to sokka’s life with his flying bison. he sees zuko not as a terrifying enemy but as a boy he might have been friends with and had fun with, he offers toph a way out of her repressive home to have the adventures she’d been longing for, and all these characters rise to fulfill their destinies through honoring their inner child - the parts of themselves that are hopeful, kind, gentle, fierce, innocent, deserving of protection - and breaking the cycles of violence and abuse that interrupted their childhoods. azula was convinced she had no need for her inner child, and killed aang in cold blood in ba sing se, after which she slowly but surely lost everything she cared about, including her sense of self. and finally, aang shows ozai mercy, thematically reminding the latter that the children he tried to kill and brutalize are a force capable of rising above petty violence, and reshaping the world. you could even argue that the original rupture in the mythos was when both sozin and the air nation sought to rob a child of their right to childhood - sozin by hunting a child, the air nomads by hastening aang out of his childhood so he could help them - and that balance is restored when aang, who represents the world’s lost gentleness and mercy, and upholds values that a war torn world regards as “childish” and “immature”, manages to end the war with a gesture that honors those values and affirms everyone’s right to a safe and loving childhood, to a life free of violence.

I deeply appreciate how ATLA depicts all the main characters responses to trauma. Aang’s, for me, however, stands out for its rareness in media. And we are not hammered over the head with the idea that Aang (or any other characters) repeatedly act certain ways because of a single traumatic event. Sure, there are key moments in our lives when a certain event comes to the forefront, but no one experiences the world as constant flashbacks. Rather, we see only in retrospect the way our sarcastic sense of humor or our heightened friendliness were protective responses to a deep emotional injury. Being able to understand Aang’s approach to loss is essential for the show. The structure of the series is founded on his arc (despite an incredible foil provided by Zuko). Our little air nomad initially confronts the loss of his people with a full-on meltdown in the episode “The Southern Air Temple,” where Katara’s offering of familial belonging soothes him. But this kind of outburst is not Aang’s primary response (and actually the literally out-of-character apocalyptic tantrums align with Aang’s overall process of grieving). Instead of constantly brooding (hey Zuko!), Aang leans heavily toward the monk’s pacifist teachings and toward his assumed destiny “to save the world.” He becomes overtly accommodating and joyful, constantly trying to see “the good” in everything with a perfectionist’s zeal. This is not to ascribe his bubbliness only to his trauma. Rather, he comes to emphasize this part of his personality for reasons related to the negative emotions he struggles to face.  Book 1: Water

In the first season, Aang is simply rediscovering his place in the world. “Water is the element of change. The people of the water tribe are capable of adapting to many things. They have a sense of community and love that holds them together.” This is vital to Aang as he initially faces his experience. He won’t get through this if he is not prepared for his life to change. Even if he hadn’t been frozen for 100 years, his world would never be the same. This fact involves eventually finding new people that he feels safe with. After such a massive loss, he’s learning who to trust, and also often making mistakes; not only does he find Sokka and Katara (and I’d argue he’s actually slow to truly open up to them), this is the season where he helps save a fire nation citizen who betrays him to soldiers, befriends the rebel extremist Jet, and attempts to befriend an actively belligerent Zuko (his moral complexity had only JUST! been revealed to the kid!). He’s constantly offering trust to others and seeking their approval in opposition to the deep well of shame and guilt he carries as a survivor of violence. This is also the season where Aang swears off firebending after burning Katara in an overeager attempt to master the element (one will note how fire throughout the series is aligned with, above all else, assertiveness and yang). Aang is so eager to be seen as morally good to others that he refuses to risk any possible harm to them.  And asserting himself carries a danger, in one sense, that he might make a mistake and lose someone’s positive regard, and, in another sense, that he is replicating the anger and violence he’s witnessed. He has no relationship to his anger at this stage of his grief, so it comes out uncontrollably, both in firebending and the Avatar State. It’s through the patience of his new family that he can begin to feel unashamed about his past and about the ways his shame is finding (sometimes violent) expression in the present. Book 2: Earth In the second season he begins to trust himself and stand his ground. Earth, after all, is the element of substance, persistence, and endurance. The “Bitter Work” episode encapsulates how Aang must come to a more sturdy sense of his values. First, there is the transition of pedagogical style. While Katara emphasized support and kindness, Toph insists on blunt and threatening instruction, not for a lack of care towards Aang. Instead, it’s so Aang learns how to stop placing the desires of others above his own–to stop accommodating everyone else above his own needs. Toph taunts Aang by stealing one of the few keepsakes from the monastery that he holds onto. This attachment to the lost airbending culture is echoed in the larger arc with Appa. And, by the end of this episode, it is Aang’s attachment to Sokka that allows him to stand firm. This foreshadows the capital T Tragic downfall in the “Crossroads of Destiny.” Aang gives up his attachment to the other member of his new found family, Katara, despite his moral qualms. Although he has access to all the power of the Avatar state, his sacrifice is not rewarded. Season 2 illustrates Aang coming to terms with his values. He is learning about what he stands for, what holds meaning to him. Understanding himself also includes integrating his grief, and there’s a lonely and dangerous aspect to that exploration. We see Aang’s anger and hopelessness over longer stretches rather than outbursts in this season. It’s hard to watch and hard to root for him. That depressive state leads to actions that counter his previous sense of morality, as he decisively kills an animal, treats his friends unkindly, and blames others for his loss. Letting these harsher feelings emerge is an experiment, and most people discover their boundaries by crossing them. Finding ways to hold compassion for himself, even the harm he causes others, is the other side of this process. Our past and our challenging emotions are a part of us, but they are only a part. Since Aang now has a strong sense of community and is learning to be himself rather than simply seeking validation, we also see him having more healthy boundaries with new people. He’s no longer befriending villains in the second season! He’s respectful and trusting enough, but he’s not putting himself in vulnerable situations nor blindly trusting everyone. Instead, he’s more likely to listen to his friends’ opinions or think about how the monks might’ve been critical towards something (they’re complaints about Ba Sing Se, for example). By knowing what he cares for, he can know himself, the powerful, loving, grief-struck monk. And he can trust that, though he might not be everyone’s favorite person, he does not need to feel ashamed or guilty for who he is or what he’s been through. Book 3: Fire However, despite a sense of self and a sense of belonging, Aang and the group still find themselves constantly asking for permission throughout their time in Ba Sing Se. It’s in the third season, Fire, that initiative and assertiveness become the focus. And who better to provide guidance in this than the official prince of “you never think these things through,” Zuko. It’s no longer a time for avoidance or sturdy defensiveness. It is the season of action. Fire is the element of power, desire, and will, all of which require us to impact others.  We see the motif of initiative throughout the season: the rebels attempt to storm the Firelord on the Day of the Black Sun; Aang attempts to share his feelings and kiss Katara; Katara bends Hama and a couple of fire nation soldiers to her will. In each of these examples, the initiators face disgrace. Positive intent does not bring forth success, by any means, only more consequences to be dealt with. This is perhaps Aang’s biggest challenge. He is afraid that his actions will fail, or worse, they will succeed but he will be wrong in what he has chosen. The sequencing in the series, here, is important. We have already seen how Aang has worked to care for (and appreciate) the well-being of others and how he has learned to care for his own needs. With this in mind, he should be able to trust that his actions will derive from these wells of compassion. But easier said than done. Compassion can also trap him into indecision, hearkening back to his avoidant mistake in the storm, in which the whole mess began. Aang’s internal conflict, here, becomes more pronounced as the finale draws nearer. I think it’s especially significant that we witness Aang disagreeing with his mentors and friends. He must act in a way that will contradict and even threaten his sources of support if he is to trust his own desires. Even the fandom disagrees about the choice Aang makes, which further highlights the fact that making a decisive choice is contentious. There is no point in believing it will grant you love or admiration or success. For someone who began (and spent much of) the series regularly sacrificing himself just to bring others peace, Aang’s decision to prioritize his own interests despite the very explicit possibility of failure is the ultimate growth his character can have and the ultimate representation of him processing his trauma. (This arc was echoed and made even more explicit in many ways with Adora in the She-ra finale.) The last significant time Aang followed his desire, in his mind, was when he escaped the Air Temple in the storm. To want something, to trust his desire and act on it, is an act of incredible courage for him, and whether it succeeded or failed, whether anyone agrees or disagrees with it, it offered Aang a sense of peace and resolution. Now I appreciate and love Zuko’s iconic redemption arc, but Aang’s subtler arc, which subverts the “chosen one” narrative and broke ground to represent a prevalent emotional experience, stands out to me as the foundation for the show I love so much.