Aang is the protagonist
For being the main character in Nickelodeon’s early 2000's hit show Avatar: The Last Airbender (ATLA), Aang’s character does not receive nearly as much analysis or appreciation as companion characters like Zuko or Katara. This has always stood out to me because not only is Aang the titular character, but his arc throughout the show’s three-season run is no less compelling or nuanced than that of his larger ensemble counterparts. This oversight from large portions of the larger fandom and the casual enjoyer alike fails to acknowledge an aspect of the show that I hold in the highest regard: Aang, the story’s main character, is a young male protagonist ahead of his time.
In 2005, Aang took the stage as a children’s network main character alongside the premiere of shows like The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, Ben 10, and Johnny Test. Out of this lineup, Aang feels a little out of place. Where these characters are impulsive, moody, and violent, Aang is compassionate, wise, and fun-loving. This difference is at the heart of why I think Aang is a beacon of a character, not only from the greatness of the show at large that surrounds him but because of the countercultural male role model he served as.
While we may not be consciously aware of it as kids, we are deeply affected by the characters we come across in the media, especially those who we feel reflect ourselves either physically, emotionally, or socially. These characters, though, also serve as a way for kids to learn about the world on macro and micro scales. This means the showrunners have a responsibility to their audience, made up of largely young children, to make protagonists that reflect the values that they hope to inspire in their audience while also making that character struggle and be complicated at times.
ATLA showrunners provide a masterclass in ethical influence. Aang is, in almost every shape and form, different from the images of masculinity typically pushed onto young boys. Aang is friendly, respectful, and environmentally conscious. He is unsure of himself, yet optimistic and sentimental; he values the knowledge of his elders and embraces pacifism—and the list goes on. This brings me to arguably the most important aspect of my defense of Aang—he is the most powerful character in the show’s entire universe.
Just think about that—Aang is a character built around being kind and moral above all else, and he is the most physically powerful character in the show: what a statement to make in 2005! Sure, he is not perfect—the show knows that. Aang does not always want to be good, and is not always correct, vivacious, graceful, or unshakable. This point, though, does not hinder my argument: instead, it shows just how good it is. Aang—the Avatar, the last of his kind—is not only moral and kind, but approachable and relatable. What use is a good protagonist and their ability to influence if the people watching cannot see themselves in them—or worse—if they place this character on a pedestal?
Aang makes mistakes, acts in anger, and is overwhelmed by his grief, but he makes an effort to work through it, apologize to those who he hurt, take accountability, and actively work to become better. How revolutionary is that?
I will leave you not with my words, with the profoundly beautiful words of the opening sequence: “[Aang] has a lot to learn before he can save anybody, but I believe Aang can save the world.”