I first became aware that there is an annual Star Trek convention in Las Vegas some time around 2005. I remember sitting in that kitchen and thinking “maybe I’ll go next year.”
Nearly twenty years later, I finally attended my very first Star Trek Las Vegas this past weekend, and it’s the closest to a religious experience as I believe I’ll ever have in a PG setting.
What’s interesting to me is that there are several reasons why someone might want to attend an event like this:
- the opportunity to meet the actors, get photos with them, and autographs from them
- the actor panels where you get inside information and the ability to ask questions about the actors’ process and experiences on set
- the opportunity to connect with retailers that sell everything from books to collectibles to jewelry to cosplay in the vendors hall
But I found myself far more interested in attending the ancillary panels in the smaller rooms – those that included the writers and creators of the various Star Trek properties, as well as panels that discussed the sociopolitical influence that Star Trek has on us and the world in which we live.
There was one panel in particular on the third day of the convention that included several writers from Star Trek: Enterprise. It was running opposite a more popular panel that included several actors from the franchise, but after having gone to the writer/creator panels for DS9 and Voyager the previous days I felt myself wanting more of this type of content. It was during this discussion that I had an epiphany about why that was.
I often credit Star Trek for providing me with the framework for living. I can point to Captain Picard and his crew on the Enterprise for setting the standard for my moral and ethical compass more readily than I can point to my family for influencing my code of ethics. It’s not that my family didn’t have any influence at all, but the relationships between the crew of the Enterprise and Voyager and Deep Space 9 as coworkers and friends informed my approach developing professional relationships throughout my career. They inspired a passion for collaboration and respect, even when a coworker gets annoying (like Lt. Barclay). There have been times when, as a young person at the beginning of my career, I made missteps – and I handled the criticism and feedback of my managers with honor and acceptance like Lt. Cmdr. Worf.
As my career progressed and I became responsible for overseeing others, I took my lead from characters like Captain Janeway and B’Elanna Torres, the latter having been promoted above her former hierarchical peers. I watched that episode and learned from her how to smooth things over with my new reports, the way she did with the other candidate for Chief Engineer.
And it’s not just in my professional life that these stories had such profound influence. As someone who only recently became aware that I’ve been autistic THIS WHOLE DAMNED TIME, I realized that I have always navigated my approach to interpersonal relationships with family, friends, and random strangers with Star Trek as my compass. With new alien species as surrogates for people whose lifestyles and philosophies were foreign to my own, I learned how to approach those differences with compassion, curiosity, respect, and empathy. Deanna Troi’s reaction to her mother’s meddling influence was relatable; and her example of how to set boundaries (along with my therapist’s support) helped me improve my relationship with my parents.
There’s an episode where Wesley Crusher is going through a series of tests before being admitted to Starfleet Academy. He accidentally bumps into a character named Rondon who reacts by insulting Wesley for his faux pas. Wesley immediately apologizes, but Rondon continues hurling insults at him. That’s when Wesley notices that Rondon has webbed hands, indicating that he’s a Zaldan. Wesley knows that the Zaldan culture is one that despises courtesy, and views it as insincere behavior. That’s when Wesley changes tactics to start shouting back at Rondon for being one to cause the incident. Rondon reacts by laughing, telling him it was all part of the test to see if he could embrace other cultures with respect.
That was a lesson for me to meet people where they are, and to take their social, cultural, and behavioral background into account when I’m trying to communicate with them. It’s a skill that has enabled me to “fit in” in mixed company, and eventually identify those who would become friends, and which should be kept at a healthy distance. It’s also the reason that I’m able to dispense advice in online forums in a way that is usually accepted with gratitude by the person receiving it, even if my suggestion isn’t what they were hoping to hear.
And while the actors who embodied all of these characters and played out all of these scenes for me to learn from made it possible for me to receive this education; the writers were the ones who created the lesson plan. They curated the paradigm upon which I’ve modeled my role as a human being in the world.
The panel directly after the writer’s panel that inspired this epiphany was named “Trektivism” and it was hosted by John Billingsley (Dr. Phlox from ST: Enterprise). He started it off with a call to action – to inspire each of us to take part in creating this ideal version of the future by putting our innate talents, abilities, and connections to use for a greater good.
He then ran from person to person in the packed audience, asking them to share what their talent was. One woman responded, “I’m good at doing laundry!”
“And how do you use laundry to improve the world you live in?” he asked.
“I volunteer to help wash blankets and towels at animal shelters and senior homes,” she replied.
It was the perfect answer. ANYTHING we’re capable of doing can be put to use to heal the world. I thought about my role as someone with a 26-year career in nonprofit fundraising. I thought about the reason I ended up in that profession to begin with.
My entire family are entrepreneurs. Not just that – they’re all successful entrepreneurs. Capitalists. They’d fit in perfectly in Ferengi society, and there was a time when my future was either to take over their business with my brother, or marry someone who was equally as successful so that I could continue to live the privileged life I’d come to know.
Then one day I accepted a position as a receptionist at a nonprofit. All I did was answer phones, sort the mail, and keep the supply room tidy; but at the end of the day I felt like what I did was helping people. It made a difference. I never felt that level of fulfillment doing the same job at my parents’ furniture store.
Next thing you know I’m heading up departments and planning massive events to raise money to help people with cancer or Alzheimer’s or to help single moms in need of financial support to pay bills.
It’s not just in the career I’ve chosen, but in my actual hobbies that I live this ethos of being of service to my community. I run a support group for people in mono + polyam relationships and frequently participate in several other relationship-focused support groups. I have used my empathic superpowers to help people figure out what they’re experiencing and how to communicate those feelings to their partners. I can say without a shred of uncertainty that babies have been born because at one time or another I helped their parents figure out how to make it work together. I’ve documented my journey as a widow, a kinkster, and a person who has unpacked my own privilege and shared it publicly to help support others on similar journeys find their way to the peace and self-acceptance that I now enjoy.
And I can point to the writers that raised me; and to the man who inspired them – Gene Roddenberry – for using their innate skills and abilities to create; and in doing so help pave the way for the future we collectively dream about.
We just have to get through the Eugenics Wars first.
polyammering 