Stuff I Learned from Fairy Tales that I Really Need to Unlearn, Part 3: My Home is My Castle
Over the summer I’ve been examining Fairy Tales and the cultural lessons we learn from them - some intended and some not. We’ve looked at the norms of “Finders Keepers!” and “Get to Work!” In this article we move to “My Home is My Castle!” and find two seemingly unrelated messages embedded in it: “Home, Sweet Home!” and “He Started It!”
Home, Sweet Home
The idea of my home being a place of repose, safety and privacy was ingrained as far back as I can remember. The story I associate with it is The Wizard of Oz, where the words “There’s no place like home!” turn out to be magic words that transport Dorothy back to Kansas.
That line quotes a sentimental song written in the 1800’s, “Home Sweet Home.” Although I didn’t connect Dorothy’s words with the tune, I knew the melody as a staple motif of Looney Tunes and other classic cartoons. Whenever animators wanted to indicate domestic bliss, we heard the music corresponding to “Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.” In fact, it was so recognizable that by 1955 Disney used an ironic dog-pound howling version of it in Lady and the Tramp to poignant effect.
The ideas underpinning those lyrics go all the way back to the Roman empire. In the year 533 CE, the legal code of Emperor Justinian included the idea that “Everyone’s house is his safest refuge.” Over the years the language morphed from “refuge” to “castle.” By 1604, British judge Sir Edward Coke wrote that “the house of every one is to him as his Castle and Fortress, as well for defence [sic] against injury and violence, as for his repose.” He went on to set a legal precedent used to this day in both the US and UK that sets forth what is and is not acceptable use of force in defending one’s home. This is known as the Castle Doctrine.
Of course, as a child I wasn’t reading antique legal decisions. But I intuitively understood the Fortress idea from reading the Three Little Pigs.
As you’ll recall, three Pig siblings each build a house - the first one out of straw, the second out of sticks, the third out of bricks. As they are each enjoying the private repose of their respective homes, a Big, Bad and apparently hungry Wolf enters the neighborhood. He knocks at each of their doors in turn, saying “Little Pig, little Pig, let me come in!” and threatening to “huff and puff and blow your house down” if he isn’t granted entry. The Straw-house Pig, accurately assessing the imminent danger, escapes to the stick house; when the Wolf repeats his threatening behavior there, both the Stick- and Straw-house Pigs retreat to the brick house.
The brick-house brother sees no need to retreat because his sturdy home is huff-and-puff proof. But the persistent Wolf then climbs to the roof, seeking to enter through the chimney. Brick-house Pig sets a trap for him by placing a cauldron of water over the fire in his fireplace. When the Wolf comes down the chimney and falls into the cauldron the Brick-house Pig quickly traps him by slamming the heavy iron lid on. In some versions he flips the predator-prey script by dining on the cooked Wolf. He has killed the intruder in his home, and we all cheer for him.
This illustrates the very essence of the Castle Doctrine:
There’s an intruder;
They’re inside your home;
You didn’t ask them in;
They are committing or threatening to commit a serious crime.
If all these are true, it’s OK to use lethal force against the intruder. Case closed. You get to defend yourself and your family inside your home because it is your castle and refuge.
All US states have some version of the Castle Doctrine law. But, there are plenty of variations between states, creating confusion about what kind of force is warranted, when. In fairy tale terms, the question is, must you distinguish between the hungry wolf sliding down your chimney and the drunken pig next door who breaks in thinking it’s his house? In North Carolina, a person who "unlawfully and forcibly" enters your home is presumed to intend violence, and you are presumed to have a reasonable fear of harm and can defend yourself however you like. In Illinois, the intruder has to be in the midst of a felony or have entered in a "violent, riotous or tumultuous manner." So, in North Carolina you’re protected if you kill the drunken neighbor; in Illinois you could be held accountable for shooting them. In the recent rash of shootings of people who showed up to the wrong address, turned around in the wrong driveway or even tried to get in the wrong car, these distinctions between states make a difference to the charges brought and eventual sentences.
Retaliation or Defense?
Notice also that you can’t have invited the person in, they need to be breaking and entering. The story of Rapunzel illustrates this.
Once the Witch finds out that Rapunzel has been seeing a man, despite being locked into a castle tower from the age of puberty, the Witch cuts off Rapunzel’s hair to use as a decoy. The next time the man in question, a Prince of course, yells “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,” the Witch tosses the end of it down. The Prince climbs up and is shocked to find the Witch at the top of the tower and Rapunzel nowhere in sight. He’s clearly been tricked into entering.
Now, I was already rooting against the Witch because she imprisoned our heroine, stood in the way of true love, cut off Rapunzel’s hair and sent her into the wilderness alone. But let’s take her perspective as the homeowner - the Prince has “stolen” the heart or perhaps the virtue of her adopted daughter. However, because she invited him in by lowering the hair, and because he’s not currently committing a crime, she has invalidated her Castle defense. When she shoves him out the window and into thorn bushes which blind him, she’s just being vindictive, and even as a child that felt different than the case of Pigs v. Wolf. Retaliation is not the same as self defense.
He Started It!
But what if retaliation became acceptable? The Three Billy Goats Gruff is a similar story of a family each encountering a threatening character — a Troll that has taken possession of a public bridge they need to use. The Troll, with his terrifying teeth and claws, is threatening anyone who comes across the bridge that he’s going to eat them up. Like the first two Pigs, the first two Billy Goats find a way to retreat — or more precisely to redirect and de-escalate the troll by saying that the next Billy Goat that’s coming will be larger and meatier.
Up until the early 2000’s this was the behavior expected of us all when confronted in a public place. Outside our homes we had a “duty to retreat,” as long as we could do so safely. Only when we or our family members couldn’t safely retreat were we justified in using force in self defense.
But the behavior of the third, Big Billy Goat Gruff, is something entirely different. When the Troll comes out to threaten him, he uses his horns, hooves and muscular body to mortally wound the Troll and throw him in the river. Even though he could have found a way to retreat or redirect as did his family, he chooses to engage in the fight. Though he’s not in his “Castle” as was the Brick-house Pig, he “Stands his ground.” As a child I understood that the Troll was a bully occupying a public bridge and terrorizing innocent pedestrians. It seemed like he was looking for trouble, so I didn’t question his fate. If there had been a trial by the surviving Troll family, Big Billy Goat Gruff’s defense would be familiar to any Kindergartener: “He started it!”
The “He started it” defense didn’t begin to be codified as “Stand Your Ground” laws until the early 2000’s. Such laws do away with a duty to retreat, even outside your home. Approximately 28 states have some version of this doctrine. In the narrowest definitions, they extend the Castle doctrine to your workplace or car; in the broadest examples, to any public place that you have a right to be in. Your body becomes, as Rev. Dr. Kelly Brown Douglas observes, “essentially a mobile castle.” This defense is unevenly applied across race, and disproportionately successful for White defendants that harm plaintiffs of color — think of George Zimmerman’s acquittal in Trayvon Martin’s killing. The Giffords Law Center, founded by mass shooting survivor Rep. Gabby Giffords, summarizes outcomes of Stand Your Ground laws: “. . . these laws too often allow individuals to use lethal force as a first step, rather than as a last resort.” They note as well that these laws are also called “Shoot First” laws.
Thinking back to the Three Billy Goats Gruff as an example, my child self wasn’t wrong to understand that the Troll was doing something bad, not just for the individual goats he was terrorizing, but for everyone in the area that needed to use that bridge. The problem is that along with that basic sense of right and wrong, I swallowed the idea that it’s OK to be a vigilante who shoots (or head-butts) first and asks questions later. Vigilantism gives immediate satisfaction, but there’s no time for due process, much less rehabilitation of the offender. And, of course, because it happens in an instant, it draws on all the biases and fears that are unleashed by our fight-or-flight physiology. In our neurologically activated state we may see a “troll” — or a “thug” or a “brute” where there is only a teenager or a person having a mental health crisis. Vigilantism is also not the same as self-defense.
The Superhero Effect
Our appetite for the vigilante narrative has been stoked by the rise of superheroes. The first appeared in comic books of the late 1930’s and continue in print and film to the present. As I write there have been seven superhero films released just this year! It’s clear that the role of “defender of the defenseless” was one that the USA was beginning to define for itself on the world stage in the period between WWI and WWII. I know that I grew up believing that we were the “good guys” who had a responsibility to help out when fascist nations were behaving like Big Bad Wolves.
These superhero characters were so popular because they were projections of our collective self image. Like Superman, we saw ourselves as “mild-mannered,” disguising our special powers while working hard like the other guys at our day job. Like Batman we took pride in the research and development efforts we put into the technology that gave us the edge over bad guys. And, like Batman, the USA channeled significant wealth into our weaponry.
Nearly a century later, the steady stream of superhero media is still impacting us. On a recent episode of the It’s Been a Minute podcast, Chicago Tribune film critic Nina Metz noted, “The media we consume isn’t just entertainment, it seeps into our subconscious and it shapes the way we think about the world and the way we think about what’s possible.” Her point is that if we believe that we’re “the little guy” that someone needs to swoop in with special powers to defend, we don’t consider our collective agency. What I’ll add is that these stories also condition us to look for the violent answer: shoot first. Individual vigilantism and retribution are both glorified.
This is exacerbated by our evolving national relationship with guns. In the 1930’s when Superman debuted, most NRA members only owned guns for hunting. This would begin to change in the 1970’s as the NRA, which previously advocated for gun control, began to expand the notion of gun rights for self-defense. We might not have super powers, but like Batman, we wouldn’t need a posse as long as we could technologically outmaneuver whatever threat we perceived was out there. Enter the proliferation of Stand Your Ground laws and the result is an armed public that can’t distinguish between self-defense and individual vigilantism. Hence, the rash of shootings at unarmed strangers who have mistakenly come to the wrong door, driveway or car.
Castle as Community
There is great polarization about controlling the easy access to guns in this country. But are we focusing on the wrong half of the equation? If we solved for the individualism would it de-fang the vigilantism? If the sanctity of my “castle” encircled my community - as did the walls of historical castles - then I wouldn’t be solely responsible for protecting my family. Maybe my neighbors and I would be inspired to look for systemic solutions to the crises of violence or mental health or addiction or racism that make us feel defenseless. None of us can solve any of them alone, but collectively we certainly can. Metz posits that solving big problems would probably seem less daunting if films frequently showed us regular people banding together to do just that.
Maybe it’s significant that Dorothy had to be far from her individual home to learn to collaborate with her oddball friends, each with their own imperfections. None of them was as smart (or brave or loving) as all of them together. In many stories they individually would have been cast as “the defenseless” who needed someone with superpowers or superior weapons to swoop in, yet together they managed to bring down a tyrant.
Storybook Learning:
I’m alone in my Castle and solely responsible for its defense; and since I don’t have special powers I’ll need to arm myself in whatever way I can.
Consequences:
The line between defense, vigilantism and retribution is hard for me to discern. I continue to take in narratives that make me fear people I don’t know, so even accidental cases of mistaken location may send me into a fight-or-flight state where I jump to the worst conclusions and act upon them. In the most extreme cases, I shoot innocent strangers.
Alternately, I may come to think of myself as “the little guy,” powerless in the face of the narratives of global crisis I take in every day. I hope for or vote for someone to come to my rescue, or distract myself from the urgency of the crisis du jour.
Unlearning Tips:
Lean in to the issues that make you feel defenseless to pinpoint what makes your heart ache the most. Then find ways of joining with others in collaboration to look for systemic solutions to that crisis. You’ll end up inspiring one another to actions, however large or small, that allow you to feel your collective agency. One option is the U.School for Transformation's annual online U.Lab 1x course. The live course is starting up in September, but will continue to be available in a self-paced format through May. It’s free and has been transformative for me and tens of thousands of people across the globe.
And, if you’re specifically interested in collaborating to work toward embodied systemic solutions to racism and other societal injustices, you can join my free monthly online Social Justice Hub.