Dear Jamie Morrison,
As the visionary behind Love, Simon, I want to extend my heartfelt thanks. I recently took my sons—my 13-year-old and my openly gay nearly 11-year-old—to a preview screening of your film. My younger son, Alex, had seen a trailer and excitedly told me, “We have to see it! There’s finally a movie about kids like us!”
I was aware of Love, Simon and had been researching it to determine if it was suitable for Alex, given its PG-13 rating. I ultimately decided that he would be fine based on our open discussions and his self-identity. My only concern was realizing that the actors, including Jennifer Garner and Josh Duhamel, were old enough to portray parents of teenagers. But then again, I was sitting beside my newly minted teenager.
The theater was packed with a diverse audience, including teenagers and older LGBTQ couples. Their reactions—gasps, laughter, and heartfelt “aww” moments—made it clear that the film resonated deeply. Love, Simon isn’t just groundbreaking for featuring a gay teen protagonist; it carries a powerful message about the importance of being true to oneself, a sentiment that is increasingly celebrated in our culture, especially with the visibility of openly gay public figures.
Reflecting on your work, it’s no surprise that you brought this film to life. Two decades ago, I was glued to Dawson’s Creek, where you directed the first televised kiss between two male characters. I understand the impact that representation had on my gay friends at the time, just as I recognize what this film signifies for my son today.
I’m conscious that my family exists within a supportive bubble. Alex has been expressing himself freely since childhood—he dressed as a princess for Halloween at six and participated in his first Pride Parade at seven. In elementary school, he celebrated diversity by dressing as Audra McDonald for Black History Month and even included a rainbow flag in a class project. He’s unabashedly himself, a true theater enthusiast who found inspiration in artists like Liza Minnelli and Barbra Streisand. It’s clear that representation matters.
However, I know there are many kids in less accepting environments who relate to Alex but feel more like Simon—scared and uncertain. This film is vital for them. I hope that straight boys, who may go to see Love, Simon with their girlfriends drawn by Nick Robinson’s charm, will find a piece of themselves in Simon and gather the courage to be authentic.
The film also serves an essential role for straight audiences, encouraging empathy and understanding toward their peers grappling with their identities. On our drive home, we discussed a profound line from Simon: “I’m supposed to be the one that decides when and how and who knows.” This sentiment underscores the importance of agency in one’s own narrative.
Thank you, Jamie, for creating a film that resonates across generations. It opens the door for families to engage in meaningful conversations about acceptance, friendships, and the courage to be genuine. Most importantly, it offers young LGBTQ individuals the comforting reminder: “I’m just like you.”
In conclusion, Love, Simon is not merely a film; it’s a movement toward acceptance and understanding, making it a crucial viewing experience for all.