“Now I’m the worst Crystal Gem.”

I’ve talked a lot about Amethyst as a middle child, but here’s where I should clarify that middle children are, shock of shocks, not homogeneous. I’m a middle child myself, but there are many ways that I don’t identify with her experience. I’ve always gotten along with my older brother better than Amethyst has with Pearl, and my relationship with my younger sister is nothing like Amethyst’s and Steven’s because I’m only two years and eight days older so I don’t remember life without her. Moreover, I don’t feel that I’m worse than my brother (except at film studies), or that my sister is worse than me (except at Mario Kart, come at me), and there was never any sense of judgment or competition over who was “the best kid” growing up. Not every family can be so lucky.

We’ve known for a while now that Amethyst came out late and was the youngest, weakest, and smallest surviving Crystal Gem for her entire life until Steven’s birth (unless we count Ruby or Sapphire separately for size). As I calculated back in Tiger Millionaire, this immense amount of time spent as “the worst Crystal Gem” is roughly relative to 29 years and 11 months in the life of a 30-year-old. I can’t imagine her relief upon finally outranking someone after all that time feeling like the runt of the litter, but I don’t have to imagine what it would be like to feel that sense of long-awaited progress go up in smoke, because we have an entire episode about it.



Steven vs. Amethyst is an episode that makes subtext text. After Amethyst bottles up her emotions about Jasper, insecurities from long before Crack the Whip finally explode, leading Steven opening about his headspace in a major way for the first time since Joy Ride. It’s surprising and cathartic to see these two frankly and bluntly describe their problems; in a bubble, this could be mistaken for bad storytelling (it’s generally not riveting to see characters just tell us how they feel), but with nearly a hundred episodes of backstory, a therapeutic moment between two close siblings is allowed to be frank and blunt.



But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. After a glimpse of core-shaking sadness at the very end of Crack the Whip, Amethyst’s walls are right back up at the beginning of this episode. Zuke’n’Florido already showed off their grasp of Sullen Amethyst in Too Far, and ratchet up the tension by directing her sulking ire towards our lead character instead of a newcomer like Peridot.

Most of this episode is painfully awkward, and none of it is played for cringe comedy. Watching Amethyst allow herself to be vulnerable around not only Steven but Pearl only to fall short again and again is awful to watch, and the training sequence is expertly drawn out to keep giving us shreds of hope that she’s gonna get a win. On a logical level the most likely outcome is failure, as that seems to be what will drive the plot, but on an emotional level it is rough to see her confidence balloon back up over and over, only to burst at the end of each competition. And honestly? I share her surprise that Steven has surpassed her. Yes, he’s been training and she’s a slacker, but it’s been such a given that he’s a level below the Big Three Crystal Gems that it’s shocking to see him on top. The entire show has been about him trying to become an equal, but now he’s not only equal but superior to Amethyst.

His showboating may seem out of character at this point in the series, but he doesn’t recognize that this isn’t a game to Amethyst. Neither does Pearl, who rubs in Amethyst’s shortcomings by reinforcing the notion that Steven is inferior and reminding Amethyst to take it easy on him. So he has his fun, and matches the level of boastfulness that he’s seen from Amethyst herself in a way that’s bratty but understandable. And unlike Pearl, he’s soon able to notice that something’s wrong, so he gets a pass.

Unfortunately the awkwardness gets even worse after this, because we get Steven’s well-meaning but lousy attempt to make her feel better by tanking a video game fight. It makes sense that he’d do something like this, especially if we consider his possible guilt over gloating, but it also makes sense that he sucks at cheering her up in this circumstance, because he’s never had to do it before. He’s no stranger to comforting the Crystal Gems, but this time his actions are the reason Amethyst needs to be comforted.



It’ll soon be overshadowed by their final talk, but I love this conversation. Amethyst’s bad mood drives her to insult Steven, and it’s so refreshing to see him stand up for himself as an equal. He’s talked back before, but there’s not a trace of childish petulance when he angrily reacts to her implication that he’s the worst Crystal Gem, pointing out that he’s doing what the Gems wanted by getting stronger. This spat ushers in a bigger fight, but we get a nice moment of these two stewing in the feeling before it escalates, and it’s where Amethyst acknowledges her most obvious character flaw: the way her insecurity makes her sabotage herself.

Lapis Lazuli forever owns the prize for “Best use of the word ‘sucks’ in Steven Universe” courtesy of Hit the Diamond, but as silly as it sounds, I’m surprised we got away with using the term so often in this conversation. It’s not really a swear, but plenty of folks find it too vulgar for children’s entertainment and sub in “stinks” for the same effect. I doubt we’ll get saltier language than this, but we don’t really need to: the rarity of hearing “sucks,” in both the show and the medium, gives the same effect of a precision swear to punctuate the gravity of the situation (as I will demonstrate in a few paragraphs, pretend to be surprised).

While I like the very end of Steven vs. Amethyst, it’s the only saving grace of the third act. This has so far been a dramatic episode with small comedic bits (the quiet side-story of Amethyst prepping a gross meal in the sink, the smash cut from a dramatic revelation to Steven in a jester’s hat, Pearl’s general enthusiasm), so I see the desire to balance this tension with more humor. But the result is a final showdown that’s broad to a fault.

Steven and Amethyst each trying to prove they’re worse than the other is a novel concept, and there are moments in the fight that are amusing, but I feel the joke is run into the ground well before the sequence is finished with it. The “complimenting you as if it’s an insult”/”boasting about how bad I am” gags get stale fast due to lack of variety, but they just keep happening. The action itself is fantastic (we get Steven’s spiky bubble just in time for Bismuth, and both fighters pull off some sweet moves), and I’m all for well-executed silliness, but it feels forced to counterbalance the episode’s dark mood, and I’m grateful when we cut back to sincerity for their heart-to-heart.

I feel like I should say more about this, because I dislike it so much that it brings the whole episode down despite its gorgeous ending. But there’s really not much to say, which is why I don’t like it. The joke repeats. A lot. For a whole fight. That’s it. It’s just a big swing and a miss. Them’s the breaks.

So instead let’s talk a lot about the last minute.

This the crux of Amethyst’s arc. We cut past all the shapeshifting metaphors and allusions to her general self-confidence issues, and cut straight from a big laugh to Amethyst stating plainly that she has a disability and it sucks. It sucks that she’s small and quartzes are supposed to be big. But tellingly, she seems less upset about that than the reactions of others. She’s sick of hearing people trying to encourage her by saying she’s capable of things that they know she can’t do, and that she knows she can’t do. She’s a girl with one arm being told she can play basketball just like anyone else. She’s a boy with depression being told to just think positive and buck up. These messages may come from genuine love, but they often come from feeling uncomfortable, and they’re unhelpful at best and actively harmful at worst. They show a lack of acceptance for who she is and what she can do. They imply that what she can do isn’t good enough. They enforce a toxic concept of normality and that those who aren’t “normal” must adapt to the community without the community doing a fucking thing to adjust for them. What she needs is someone who tells her she is loved for who she is, not for what she could be or despite what she can’t do.

Have I mentioned I love this show? Because I really love this show. In a medium that either ignores or tokenizes disabilities left and right, here’s an episode of television where kids and adults who put up with this specific brand of “helpfulness” can feel seen. And the well-meaning folks whose instinct is to do what others have done to Amethyst can watch this and understand how not to treat someone with disabilities. The message is clear, concise, and preceded by one of the characters eating mayonnaise out of a kitchen sink, because you’re allowed to be entertaining and talk about uncomfortable truths at the same time.

In the aftermath of Jailbreak, Steven unloads his insecurities with the Cool Kids. He’s not sure what to think about the Gems as rebel aliens. He’s aware that his relationship with his mom is confusing. And then, out of nowhere, he drops the uncomfortable truth that his family might blame him for Rose being gone. It’s a sentiment that never came close to being said until then by Steven or the Gems, but it turns out to have been lingering in his mind just like it lingered in ours (or at least mine, I don’t wanna speak for y’all). It’s obvious in retrospect that someone as empathetic as Steven could recognize this subtext, but hearing it stated plainly is compelling, especially in how it clashes with his identity as a relative innocent.



And now, in the buildup to another foray into space, Steven once again speaks his mind to relate to others. Amethyst feels alone for not being who she’s supposed to be, but if anyone understands that, it’s Steven. He’s gone from not being sure whether he’s his mom or not in Joy Ride to affirming that he’s not Rose Quartz, and that’s all he needs to say. He’s not her, but he’ll always be compared to her, because he’s supposed to be her. Like his spiky bubble, this is just in time for Bismuth.

Zach Callison deserves a medal for his read of “Of course I do,” because on paper it’s snappy retort, but he fills it with calm, loving empathy. His sister who always hides her true feelings just told him something he probably already knew, and he responds by earnestly pointing out that he’s in the same boat. Like in Joy Ride, he’s not trying to one-up or belittle the pain of others, or make everything about him. He wants to take his own negativity, negativity he so rarely vocalizes like this, and use it to help people. Because Steven Universe will always use everything he’s got to help people, and that’s what makes him a hero.



(Too bad it will slowly kill him unless he makes a change.)

I’ve never been to this…how do you say…school?



The typically goofy Floridoverse is going in deep with the puns here: is Amethyst feeling schooled by Steven, or just outclassed?

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!



There’s a ton to love here, but the viewing experience for the episode as a whole is weighed down by long periods of awkwardness and broad humor that falls flat. These faults aren’t enough to sink Steven vs. Amethyst too far, especially because the awkwardness at least is intentional and fits the mood, but if I loved the whole episode as much as I loved the last minute it would be in my top ten.

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