“I’m here with my six-year old daughter. She loves Strange New Worlds, and La’an Noonien-Singh is her favorite character.”
He pulls out his phone and shows me a picture. The young Asian girl smiles up into the camera with bright eyes, and her dark hair threaded into two braids starting at the center of her hairline and framing her joyful countenance. “I bet she’s excited to see Christina Chong in real life,” I said.
“She’s elated. She’s going to cosplay as La’an and we paid for her to get a photo with Christina.”
My heart swells. The words “representation matters” echoes in my head as I realize that I envy this young girl and the pride with which her father speaks of her.
Two days later I’m sitting in Vic’s Lounge. The costume contest preliminary round is about to begin. The monitors on either side of the small stage are looping social media posts with photos that have been tagged with the official convention hashtags.
A picture of Christina Chong embracing a little girl in tight braids and red uniform appears. “Oh my gosh! It’s her!” I can’t help but squeal. The stranger sitting beside me looks at me curiously. “I met her dad on the first night – La’an is her favorite character. He told me she was so excited to get this picture!”
The stranger smiles.
The costume contest begins. A man wearing a Mirror Universe Spock costume pulls up to the microphone and performs the Terran salute. The judges ask about his costume and he proudly shares that he and his daughter made it, as well as hers, together. He points to his communicator, made to look exactly like the ones that Kirk & Company use. “It’s actually a functioning walkie talkie,” he says. “My daughter has the other one.”
She’s next in line – tall, in a TOS science division mini dress uniform with a TOS Type 2 phaser clipped to her belt and the matching communicator in her hand. She looks to be about 16 or 17, with long hair and that aura of unconscious awkwardness that comes with being young and being perceived by adults you admire.
Two nights later I’m home. I’m scrolling through my facebook feed, reading posts from “Kahn”-goers sharing photos and farewells in the facebook groups dedicated to the event. “My daughter and I had another wonderful time at STLV. My fourth, her third. This time, she wanted to see Christopher Lloyd and my biggie was Eric Pierpoint! Wonderful people. We are looking forward to next year and years to come.”
I click through to his daughter’s profile. She’s maybe in her 20’s. Works as a stylist. Does an annual fundraiser for the American Heart Association every year for her birthday.
I feel something in my chest. What is it – envy?
I imagine what it would be like to share my love of Trek with my dad. It’s not something he’s ever been interested in. I think about all the “bonding” trips he’d take me on when I was younger, doing things he and my brother liked to do – like boating and fishing. We never did things that I liked to do. We didn’t have many interests in common.
I can’t help but imagine what it would be like for the six year old La’an fan to come back to the convention at fifteen or sixteen to enter a costume contest with her dad. I imagine the stylist sharing her own joy at going to her tenth “khan” with her dad.
And inevitably my mind wanders to the future when some of these daughters will lose their fathers to time and age. Bittersweet tears swell into my eyes as I recognize that they will some day attend this event without their dad for the first time. My heart aches as I imagine how it will feel to walk down the halls on their own without everyone around them knowing what this event has meant to them on such a deeply personal level.
And then I imagine forward still when any of these daughters might have a child of her own and bring them to the convention for the first time. The third time. The tenth time.
Like an heirloom of experience that gets passed from generation to generation.
And it’s not envy I feel, but hope.
polyammering 