So in light of the mixed reception of Season 7, I wanted to make a longer post about Shiro and Adam – specifically what kind of role Adam played in Shiro’s life both as his partner and after his death. I think people are understandably hurt at the news of Adam dying, and I think that’s leading to a lot of misplaced anger and hatred. At its extreme, I’m seeing a lot of accusations about queerbaiting and perpetuating the “Bury Your Gays” trope. I want to speak on all of this, but as a quick prologue to this post, I want to say this:
Queer representation does not always equal having a queer relationship on screen. Sometimes the best queer representation can be seeing yourself in a single character and connecting not just to their sexuality, but also to their journey as a queer character. This is what Shiro is for us. Our queer rep – our gay, asian, disabled, mentally ill representation that overcame all of the trials he suffered and thrived as a character this season.
Adam was a part of Shiro’s past, and their relationship helped define Shiro’s experiences in the present. Adam’s death is a huge blow, but to call it a “Bury Your Gays” trope suggests that his death was a useless, pointless plot point that accomplished nothing other than to make Shiro miserable.
I don’t think that could be further from the truth. Adam’s death held purpose, and I also believe Adam’s death served as a sobering moment for Shiro that allowed him to reflect on their time together and come through with a greater understanding of what love and family truly means.
“I think it’s important to remember that Adam and Shiro’s relationship was one that was doomed to fail […] The reason we got a look at their relationship wasn’t just to show us that Shiro was gay and in a relationship. It was to give us a look at Shiro’s motivations and shortcomings, something that we never really had a clear sense of before this moment.”
“The fact that a queer, mentally ill, disabled person of color who has suffered immensely gave that speech to a crowd full of people who have also suffered and experienced loss is so inspiring. Because Shiro, by all calculations, shouldn’t have survived this long. He had so many cards stacked against him. But he’s alive. And he’s a beacon of hope for so many. Despite his loss, he’s here and he’s going to continue surviving.”
Downtown is so bright, with skyscrapers and giant LED billboards and so many human eyes that she finds herself sticking to the more shadowed parts of the city for safety: the warehouse district, the docks, condemned buildings. She’s drawn to the bay more and more often, mesmerized by the play of moonlight against the sharpness of the black water and how it just seems to go on and on, Duckburg’s distant shore mocking her with its deceptive nearness.
But on this night she edges just a little bit closer to the populated streets, her mind on where she’ll get her next meal. She’s hidden in shadow on a low rooftop when she sees the snap of a black wing out of the corner of her eye.
Gosalyn leaps to her feet, heart pounding, and takes after it without a moment’s hesitation, gliding across the spaces between rooftops in desperate pursuit. She catches a brief glimpse of their wings again, disappearing over the side of a building. She doesn’t dare call out, lest she’s wrong, lest someone else hear her.
Not a moment later she hears the reverberation of a gargoyle’s roar. Nearly forgoing caution altogether she runs to the edge of the building, smiling for the first time in days because she’s certain that her loneliness will end.
But it’s no gargoyle.
A human man rides astride a tremendous motorcycle, a long dark cape fluttering behind him. His bike roars like some great beast as it takes off down the street and Gosalyn watches him go with a hollowness opening up inside her.
