I’m not sure why we, this godforsaken human race, are seemingly designed to find faults within ourselves. Maybe it’s just a depressing fact of life? Maybe there’s a science behind it. Do we have to hate ourselves so we might seek to evolve? Perhaps we notice our flaws so profoundly and therefore are encouraged to improve for whatever the universe throws at us next. Whatever the reason, it stinks. And I, for one, have struggled mightily over the last few years (and possibly longer) with hyper-examining my flaws and genuinely hating myself for them.
I unfortunately see myself as an underperforming, lazy, unintelligible cluster of cells that for some unintelligible reason fused together enough to create a living human. It’s hard to see the point in things when you don’t see the point in yourself. But thankfully Avatar: The Last Airbender, specifically its “Bitter Work” episode from season two, exists. It is an underrated gem within a series that is always healthier for the soul.
It’s pretty much impossible to make a better show than ATLA. What always stands out to me with every rewatch (which I’ve done every summer for 10 years now) is how singular each episode can be. There’s of course a main story. But there are so many episodes, each with their own themes and lessons—from responsibility, to sexism, and even imperialism—that can also be experienced, and appreciated, in a vacuum.
But with my aforementioned struggles, I’ve found that my favorite episode in the series may be “Bitter Work.” It follows Aang’s first attempt at learning earthbending. Newcomer Toph is a ruthless mentor, appropriate for the element of Earth and rock-moving, and Aang’s training is going…not great.
This episode marks a distinct change for the series. Up to this point in the peripatetic adventures of Team Avatar, Aang was almost exclusively a master of nearly everything. He is the Avatar, after all. Picking up waterbending, communicating with the spirit world, and even channeling his inner Godzilla are just some of his many accomplishments. And yet, earthbending presents a challenge. Aang, for his literal cosmic-level of talent, is a mess, and frustrations with his struggles lead to a noticeable depressive episode.
Coinciding with his struggles is the show’s other main protagonist, Zuko, who is doing his own separate, but not coincidentally similar, training. The ever wise and affable Uncle Iroh teaches Zuko the importance of each element—in what might be as tasteful, and gentle, of a way to illustrate the importance of balance that’s possibly ever been shown—with a little branch to draw the symbols of each nation. Considering his background as a general for the fire nation army, his monologue about each nation feels especially valuable. Iroh gained his wisdom, both in philosophical and technical (e.g. learning to redirect lightning) from studying others.
So, what is the lesson we get from Avatar: The Last Airbender‘s “Bitter Work” episode? Different situations call for different approaches and different people handle different things differently. Different cultures have different priorities. Understanding, and learning, from the differences is what can bring you true balance and peace. It’s a heady concept, one that seems far from what you’d expect from a Nickelodeon series. But this lesson is imperative for anyone, no matter the age.
It makes what Aang goes through all the more important. Unlike the other elements, or other skills, he’s learned thus far, he cannot rely on his talent. Sometimes, in his case, there’s no shortcut around a problem. You just have to do it. and it can be an ugly, imprecise, and an undignifying grind. It’s almost as if the episode is trying to get the point across that everyone, including a prince and quite literally the most talented kid in the world, will struggle mightily. Will their struggles be the same? Of course not. But the path of simply learning, at some point, for all of us, is rife with obstacles.
It also makes me wonder if we are we using the word “talent” too liberally. Admittedly, I don’t have much of an alternative for that word. This isn’t a take meant to be harsh or even critical, but the normalization of the word “talent,” I think, implies that there wasn’t any work of the… [winks towards the camera] bitter ilk put in.
Moreover, there’s an implication made that the many influencers and Success Experts littered across today’s media sphere have some sort of clandestine understanding of achieving success. But sometimes the journey of life, the part that gets romanticized in boxing moves or your Shōnen anime of choice, just kind of sucks!
Maybe there isn’t a secret. Maybe everyone has incredible talent, but the world tends to lend itself more to a certain kind of talent. But regardless, there are a litany of skills, lessons, people, and even cultures that we can learn from. Good Will Hunting showed us an academic genius, but far from an emotionally intelligent one. Aang was a prodigy, until he came across not just literal earthbending, but the mindset of an Earthbender. Zuko thought he knew everything, but not until he experienced the lives of those different from himself.
I’m not sure I’ve taken the lessons of the very underrated Avatar: The Last Airbender gem “Bitter Work” to heart. There’s still what I can only imagine is a little demon goblin in my brain leaving its toxic, self-deprecating waste all over each cell. But with a new year underway, I want to try again. I want to try and remember that there is value in everything, and that life’s journey is way too complicated to assume it’s all about some people having it completely all together, and others not.
Maybe all you can do is just get to work.