Fandom Snowflake 08 - Temporary Autonomous Zones

Comment to someone you haven't ever interacted with before or introduce yourself to someone you've interacted with and friend/follow them.

That said, what if you want to add more sparkle to the challenge? Well, how about leaving feedback on that one fanwork (fic, podfic, fanart, fanvid, meta post, knitting pattern, etc.) that you've always loved in a lurk-ey way? People love getting feedback on their creations--yes, even if it's something they posted way back in the pre-Geocities era. *g*

Another option is to follow/subscribe/grant access to someone you want to get to know better on whichever platform you prefer.

The point is to reach out to someone you normally wouldn't and connect with them, even if it's only for the briefest moment.

One could argue that the Internet is the world's largest and longest continuously running fan convention, given the amount of output and creativity that is posted on even a minute-by-minute basis, if YouTube's claim of millions of hours of footage being posted every minute is true. There's certainly more than enough panel discussion, workshopping, celebrity interaction, tournaments and contests, Artist Alley work, video programming, spontaneous glomping and more going on in each space.

The activity of the convention, though, isn't there for the sake of the convention itself - if it were, there would be no need for attendees and the amount of money they bring in. The real purpose is convention is twofold - it brings the fans together to be fannish with each other, because many fans have always corresponded with each other through whatever remote method is cheapest, and it brings the fans out in sufficiently large quantities that they can suspend some of the rules of the society around them and create their own society, even if only for the weekend.

Sometimes the rules suspended are ones that work better when intact, which necessitates codes of conduct and explicit reintegration and enforcement of those rules that ensure a good experience from everyone, but most of the time, the changes made are ones that benefit the community - it becomes normal, at convention, to wear costume, to adopt roles, to focus on the minutia, to engage in obvious squee, to admire craftsmanship, and to function on an economy that has room for sharing your Pocky or your animation while you wait in line. To take part in a community openly, among peers, rather than having to keep that identity carefully curated so that those who do not understand or will not accept it do not know. (Principle applies outside of fandom, as many kinksters are well aware.)

So, while this challenge is complete through the acts that have come before it, as a natural consequence of seeing things that are new and interesting, the point of the challenge is making the connection. The point of the convention is making the connection. It's just that the Internet needs better maps, signs, and helpful guides to get the attendees from the place that they are at to the spot that they want to be, talking with the people that are interesting to them. (See also: essayist in meta land feels like inhabitant on island of misfit fans) It needs space for the people that are bold and dive right in, and it needs ambassadors that will walk the walls of the room and introduce themselves to the people there, to encourage them to participate and to tend to their needs and self-care decisions. Because someone bold in one context may be a wallflower in others. New situations are both exhilarating and terrifying, and the presence or absence of people whose job it is to understand and empathize with the terror can mean the difference between participation and lurking. (As can the visible presence is people whose job it is to swiftly react to breaches of good behavior in the community.)

Finding someone new to talk to isn't very easy for me, unless I know beforehand that there's a common thread to pull on that can be used as an icebreaker or conversation starter. It's why I wear fannish buttons and floral print shirts at work - they help reduce the gap between me and others sufficiently that we can have a conversation. At convention, it's easier still to start conversations - you are rarely ever in a group that doesn't have a shared purpose of some sort. The rules have changed from the world outside.

At least for the weekend.

Fandom Snowflake 09 - Malo San Maka

In your own space, set some goals for the coming year. They can be fannish or not, public or private.

Goals are tough things for me. They come with the possibility of failure if you set them at about the right spot, and failure is a thing that I haven't done well with in my life. That's a lot of privilege talking, but it's also the stark reality that all of that privilege hasn't actually been able to insulate or shield me from the realities of adulthood. The emotional crash hits harder when you realize that you've been playing on an easy difficulty and the game is still too hard to be able to succeed and thrive at. Goals are hard to create for yourself when you feel like just staying ahead of doom is going to take all your effort and resources. 

That's catastrophising, though, and hopefully, needed perspective will arrive to keep the brainweasels out when they threaten to get in. Preferably not, however, by having my friends get hammered harder and invite comparison of one's relative privilege. 

Another difficulty with goals is their scope. For some reason, hearing "goals" seems to invoke "major life choices and decisions", and, well, that privilege has actually got me to completion on most of those. Required education, check. Degree one, check. Degree two, check. Professional, full-time employment at a job I enjoy doing, check.

Become respected professional in field...insufficient data. How do you define respect? Publishing articles? Done. Giving presentations at conferences? Done again. Sparking a nationwide movement? Not so much. Being a well-known name with millions of Twitter followers? Not happening. Getting an idea approved at the workplace and having it come to fruition? Unlikely. (The Organization doesn't do a lot of solicitation of ideas from the front lines, and doesn't have a whole lot of process for dealing with them anyway.) Some other thing, then. Must be, and I'm sure I'll be happy to have it when it arrives.

So, goal-setting things that I see say that goals need to be small, measurable, attainable, and so forth. Think very directly, so that you can plot out the path to the goal, know when the goal will have been met, and take concrete steps on the path. If asked, though, I...tend to draw a blank. I don't want my goals to be "keep doing the things I'm already doing", but "do something new" is scary, because it's possible that someone might not actually like what I do. Or, people might like it, but it might not be the most popular thing ever, or there's someone else over there that's better than I am and I should just quit. This probably sounds familiar to a lot of other fannish people, who have each found their reasons to forge ahead anyway.

From talking about fears, worries, and processes in this entry, a few goals do all manage to appear.

1. Try things that are interesting
2. Be proud of yourself
3. Support others where you can

The decision to do Fandom Snowflake was based on looking at a friend's page and thinking it was interesting enough to do. Maybe I'll see an exchange or a prompt fill request later on and decide to do it. And then I have to remember to be proud of doing it and that it will likely be just fine and well-received because I took the time to do it for someone else in a fandom and pairing they want. Supporting others on their way is always good practice - they might be the people that have something good to wipe that I'll enjoy, too.

So, maybe they're not the most concrete of goals, but they definitely have steps that can be taken to feel like I'm getting them accomplished!