Hey everyone, I just rewatched “The Wizard of Oz” from 1939, and it hit me differently this time. With the Wicked movie out, I figured, why not watch the original again? I saw the new Wicked on preview night so I was primed and ready. 😉
It’s not just a fun fantasy about a girl and her dog in a magical land—it’s like a powerful metaphor for the struggles that transgender people face every day.
Let me break it down in this quick review, relating the story and characters to those real-life challenges. Spoilers ahead if you haven’t seen it!
The plot starts with Dorothy Gale, a young girl from gray, boring Kansas, who gets swept away by a tornado into the vibrant world of Oz. This feels so much like the trans experience: living in a world that doesn’t fit who you really are, then suddenly realizing there’s a colorful, authentic life waiting if you chase it.
Dorothy’s whole adventure is about finding her way “home,” but home isn’t Kansas—it’s about accepting her true self. For trans folks, that tornado could represent the chaos of coming out or starting to transition, leaving behind a life that feels dull and restrictive.
Along the Yellow Brick Road, Dorothy meets her iconic friends, each missing something they think they need.
The Scarecrow wants a brain, symbolizing how trans people often have to outsmart societal norms, medical systems, and even their own doubts to navigate their journey. He’s already clever, though—he just doesn’t see it yet, much like how trans individuals might feel underestimated but prove their strength over time.
Then there’s the Tin Man, who longs for a heart. This hits home for the emotional side of being trans: the fear of not being loved, or feeling numb from hiding your identity. But as the story shows, he has compassion all along; it’s about learning to open up and connect, even when rejection stings.
The Cowardly Lion is my favorite—he roars for courage but runs from his fears. This mirrors the bravery trans people need to face discrimination, family misunderstandings, or even just stepping out as themselves. Society can be scary, like those flying monkeys, but the Lion finds his guts in the end, reminding us that courage grows from within, not from some magic fix.
Of course, there’s the Wicked Witch of the West, melting away with a splash of water. She’s like the transphobia and barriers that try to stop progress—laws, bullies, or outdated views that seem powerful but crumble when challenged with truth and support. On the flip side, Glinda the Good Witch represents allies and mentors who guide you gently, showing that you’re never alone.
And the Wizard? He’s this big, booming figure promising answers, but turns out to be a regular guy behind a curtain. For trans people, he could stand for therapists, doctors, or society itself—offering “solutions” like hormones or acceptance, but really, the power was in Dorothy and her friends all along. It’s a reminder that self-acceptance is the real magic, not external validation.
Overall, “The Wizard of Oz” gets a solid 9/10 from me as a metaphor for trans struggles. It’s uplifting, with catchy songs and stunning visuals (that switch from black-and-white to color is genius!). If you’re trans or an ally, watch it with this lens—it might inspire you.
What do you think? Drop your thoughts below!
🌈🦁
Dr. Gwen Patrone
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