When you grow up not seeing much in the way of representation of yourself onscreen, you grasp onto the instances where the bits and pieces do seep through. To be both Filipino and mixed race was a tall order of an expectation to see in mainstream media, and so I gravitated towards any representation that was close enough, even if it meant finding it in the just-as-hard-to-find character qualities.

That’s what drew me to Harriet the Spy, the 1996 film adaptation of Louise Fitzhugh’s 1964 novel of the same name. It was not yet seven years after the film came out when I came across it by chance at a bed and breakfast inn, right when I turned eleven – the same age as the titular character. Popping in the iconic Nickelodeon orange VHS tape into the VCR, I was quick to realize how it wasn’t just the age I had in common with Harriet, but our bluntness and love of writing too.

Harriet the Spy is the kind of film that, despite having re-watched it recently for the first time in a long while, I still remember it beat by beat. It brings with it an honesty to it that the 90’s is best known for, portraying multi-dimensional characters, deep subject matter, and a supporting cast that would likely be pegged by the current “administration” for its DEI. It is the first feature film from Nickelodeon, and yet the depth that is portrayed in the story is done a such a way that has me wondering the same thing audiences would later wonder about Avatar: The Last Airbender: This is from Nickelodeon?

Now mind you, the film is nearly 30 years old, and so to say that everything aged like fine wine would be dismissive of the parts that didn’t. Harriet didn’t have to be so blunt in her notebook to where she was belittling one’s mental health or social status, and the fact that her classmates were never really held accountable for bullying her is incredibly frustrating to see. How strange it is though that it’s when these characters are at their worst that the range of emotions a kid can experience is what gives this film its authentic edge.

In the case of Harriet herself, the late Michelle Trachtenberg did such a good job of making her feel real. Whether it be because she was so young when she did the film or because she was still fairly early in her career (or both), she really harpooned on the undeniable thirst for knowledge and drive for the written word; both of which are not always so easy to explain, let alone portray. To document the truth, if only for oneself, is another aspect that I completely related to, and how sometimes, hard decisions are to be made in order to preserve both that and the relationships with those who matter. Watching her come alive in the role and portray all these experiences, it makes it even harder to believe that she is no longer here.

I didn’t really grow up watching Trachtenberg, although I was well aware that she was making waves with every role she took on afterwards. I remember seeing her in TV spots for films like Ice Princess and 17 Again when they came out. I suppose my satisfaction was met with the representation that she brought to the role as Harriet, and so I did not feel compelled to follow her career. That’s why when it was revealed that she died at the uncommonly young age of 39, my mind immediately went to this film.

It’s because of her death that makes one of the scenes even more bittersweet than it already is, and it’s the scene where Harriet’s nanny, Ole Golly (Rosie O’Donnell), is about to leave, and the two have one more heart-to-heart. That is particularly hard to watch now, knowing that in real life, it wound up being the other way around in who left.

Harriet the Spy didn’t prompt me to become a writer. That I already knew. However, together with the timeless approach to the story that’s otherwise very much rooted in the 60’s and Trachtenberg’s performance, it’s an example of representation I cherish, despite the fact that it’s done in a way that isn’t what would otherwise come to mind on the subject matter.

As Ole Golly says at one point in the film, “There are as many ways to live in this world as there are people in this world, and each one deserves a closer look.” That sentiment is applicable in what this film brought to me, and what Trachtenberg brought to the roles she’ll be forever remembered for.