Makers and pop culture

  "I'm not sure that dichotomy between making your own things and the things pop culture feeds you is in fact a real dichotomy. I don't think those two things are different."
   --Adam Savage

In his 2012 Maker Fair Talk titled Why We Make, Adam Savage explains why making based on pop culture isn't less respectable than making based on original ideas. I immediately disagreed with Adam, who talks about how his first ventures in making were rooted in the worlds of Star Wars and James Bond. Adam's argument was convincing enough, but an examination of my own maker origins has made me completely reverse my initial reaction. I have been able to trace all of current my skills and interests in making to first making based on the things that pop culture fed me.

I began to use the internet in the mid-1990s when I was in elementary school, and my earliest memories are all linked to pop culture and fandom. The American Girl dolls were very popular then, and despite the fact that I didn't have one of my own until much later on, I pored over the catalogs that would come in the mail. I probably knew more about those dolls and their accessories than my friends who had a whole collection. Using the features on America Online, I found other fans online and created my own newsletter and set up scheduled chatrooms. I can't recall how many subscribers I managed to acquire or how long this lasted, but this is my first memory of a) using new media, b) being invested in pop culture and actively involved in a fandom, and c) being a maker on my own accord. I don't think it's a coincidence that all three of these "firsts" for me intersected, as this is a pattern that persisted.

In middle school and high school I kept up with various fandoms online by "lurking" on message boards. I only became an active participant when a new message board opened for the sole purpose of hosting graphic design contests. The board was loosely aligned with the fandoms I followed, but spanned across all of pop culture. For example, there might be a "Pirates of the Caribbean" contest in which a set of photos of the actors were given and the participants were created a graphic collage--what we called back then a "blend." (In fact, that really was such a contest and I still have my brilliant entry).

 As I participated in these contests I learned how to master Photoshop both by experimenting on my own and following tutorials as design trends went in and out of popularity.   I had no qualms about using photographs plucked from pop culture, but when it came to including other graphic elements--brushes, textures, patterns--I would only use what I created myself. Thus, my pop culture based creations still gave me the chance to learn how to create original content. My interest in graphic design bloomed from there.

The "messing around" genre of participation as written about in Hanging Out, Messing Around, and Geeking Out really rings true when I think about this time period in my life. I used popular culture as a way to shape my identity, gain new skills, and integrate into a like-minded community online. I should also mention that I had one school friend who became active on the same message board, and we used this as a way to "hang out" online, as we chatted on AIM about the design challenges.

 It would be easy for me to dismiss all the time I spent working on these contests as frivolous fanart--and not very good fanart at that. And until now, I have. But, when Adam Savage described his childhood, it struck me that my maker origins also stem from pop culture and fandom. With my Photoshop knowledge, I became a graphic designer on my high school's newspaper. When I got to college, I did the same. I took my knowledge of graphic design, paired it with what I knew about desktop publishing from working on the high school newspaper, and became the layout editor of both the university's newspaper and literary magazine. In those roles I experimented, honed my skills, and connected with other creative people.

I wanted to be an active member of the fandoms that I belonged to, but that didn't happen for me by discussing--it happened for me by doing. The gateway into my fandoms was also my gateway into making. I think that this is the case for many people who learn a skill consequential to honoring their favorite television show, movie, or musician. Even if the only thing I ever did with my graphic design skills was continue to make fanart, I still couldn't discount the fact that I was making. This is why I have to now agree with Adam Savage, who maintains that making is a way to have a "conversation with the world." Making is making, and if it has meaning to the maker, it is worthwhile.

One concern I do have for making based on pop culture is that, as with most things that are inclusive, it can also be equally exclusionary. I can look at this exhibit of Breaking Bad artwork and be amazed, not just because of the connection with the show but also with the skills of the artists. Will my friends who have never seen the show care? Probably not. The meaning would be lost on them, and they likely wouldn't look beyond the subject matter. Not every creation will be universally liked, and subject matter is one factor in the likability of a piece. Furthermore, if making is for the maker or for their community, this isn't a problem.

I've seen participatory activities based on pop culture in libraries. These programs can engage people in activities they otherwise might not participate in. In a participatory library space, however, would programming based on pop culture limit the audience? I'm not sure. If consuming the media was part of the programming (such as reading a book together followed by an activity), then everyone is equally invited to participate. If there are external factors, such as being a fan of a movie, this would exclude those who haven't seen a movie. Of course, not every activity will be attractive for every patron, but should pop culture be one criteria?