Geek (noun) – A person who is wildly passionate about an activity, interest, or scientific field and strives to be an expert in said avocation. Person does not necessarily sacrifice social status to participate in area of expertise; instead, person will often seek out like-minded peers–in both the real and the virtual worlds–in order to connect, bond, and celebrate mutual love for this area.
I am a combo of many a geek Leslie Simon waxes poetic about in Geek Girls Unite: How Fangirls, Bookworms, Indie Chicks, and Other Misfits Are Taking Over The World, a paperback responsible for the definition above. Released October 2011, Simon provides lengthy snapshots of a life in female geekdom along with little pop-quizzes to diminish or ego-stroke your geek girl flag, a nifty glossary of geek slang for the ill-informed (I admit to always wondering what LARP meant), some history on the products and people that cultivated niche geek cultures, particularly paying homage to the ladies, and our (mostly white) geek sisters of present (non-fictional and fictional) and how they’re successors to the geekdom legacy.
But while past and present visual mediums are my drug of choice, I enjoy primarily cultural non-fiction, have hands created for crafting, iPods suffering from genre schizophrenia, an evolved sense of wit, as well as habit of salivating at any opportunity to design and organize a room. I am not unique. I have a clear understanding that I can’t possibly be in the minority and obsessed over this point during my Geek Girls Unite reading experience. Many of us are multi-faceted hybrids of geek. And Geek Girls Unite lacks that insistence. But this seems to be more for the purposes of chapters than being dismissive. Maybe there was a sense that creating combos would be a tad much for marketability and flow I'm not entirely sure. But a page, paragraph, or even a one-liner wouldn’t have killed Simon. Although a self-professed music geek, I doubt Simon herself fits all too neatly in just one box. Nonetheless, the breakdowns, while at times too general and stereotypical (but all in fun?), are entertaining and sincere. At the very least, Simon does acknowledge the vast differences in geek culture:
The Fangirl Geek… seems to be anachronistic, holding on to certain hobbies that seem to have a shelf life as long as our growth brackets that mark moments from child to tween to teenager and beyond. See adorning rooms with Sanrio plush toys.
The Literary Geek…makes books her go-to place for experience and exploration, having little time to mind the latest trends.
The Film Geek…ponders the social implications of the movie(s) that become discursive obsession.
The Music Geek…has a soundtrack for their lives that only grows with age and headphones permanently stuck to their ears.
The Funny-Girl Geek…quips off-color, humorous one-liners to highlight her eccentricities.
The Domestic Goddess Geek…is a crafty Do-It-Yourself-er eager to show off her own take on layouts easily found at any Urban Outfitters. The other geeks that receive honorable mention are the tech-savvy, fashionistas, politicas, retro, and athletic. To again, impose inclusivity where seemingly for the purposes of Geek Girls Unite, isn't enthused about accommodating.
My other big gripe is her well intended but sad attempt at the dating advice element for the geek girl. There are queer girl geeks out there to consider when you’re penning the Simple Rules for Dating The Lost-In-Fandom Girl Geek. If you don't want your straight privilege showing, consult Rachel Maddow. Or better yet, explain the purpose of such a section that doesn't further make a particularly socially awkward geek girl feel more like an inevitable spinster. Especially the Black and brown geek girls. My critique only gets more acerbic from here.
There were racial elements that I could not overlook on top of the heteronormative foundations layed. Simon left our geek brothers of color absent from the love line. This kind of invisibility arguably can do many things. One, perpetuating a hierarchy of white males as the only kind of guy worth pursuing is egregious for vulnerable young non-white female social misfits that consider themselves geeky. When white males are venerated as the sole ideal of female desirability, remember the countless sentiments about the damaging effects this has on women of a differing racial ilk. Two, it negates the experiences of those male geeks of color. The impression is made that they aren't as romantically suitable as their white male counterparts, their stories don't matter and their agency of self-defining, non-existent.
I understand that these statements may take a bit of retrospection and first-hand experience and maybe the cognizant, diversity flavor went bland sometime during these millennial times when white hipsterist philosophical solutions to racism is to simply ignore it, but I cannot imagine so little thought went into what should've been some of the most basic of inserts.
Donald Glover is by far the easiest example to use as an olive branch.
Oversimplifying our male counterparts while, maybe an effort at humor and wit is mostly just a sad double standard. Maybe I’m just salty about being single, but I’d rather not someone tell me what I look for in a guy or for guys to believe Geek Girls Unite is the rundown for snagging a girl geek when just being themselves will be enough when they meet the right girl for them under a "Head Over Heels" scenario.
So when one wonders "Why?" and questions websites like this one in an aggressive manner, I can use this book as one of the many examples of so: because we're still not seen a valuable bodies on these large, cultural platforms. Battling invisibility, tokenization, and hostility are a chronic illness that leaves those younger misfits feeling permanently out of and beyond Simon's pages. And as an older misfit, I feel obligated to point out these gross inaccuracies and complicate the matter by insisting that we do belong.
All beefing aside, Simon does try to make her book a bridge between the endless number of geekdoms in technology, politics, fashion, and pop culture. It’s ironic that I read this book at a critical point in my geek status where I realized that I often felt outside even when some circles did kind of embrace me due to particular geekgasms (primarily about horror films). Since, I've found a nice space that I made myself and found some genuinely positive feedback and great colleagues from doing what I've always done with great, personal triumphs and social heartache: be myself.
That’s how Simon decides to conclude her quest for geek sisterhood by conjuring the not-so pleasant memories that led her to understanding that her geek identity has been a source of pure joy above all else. Geek Girls Unite is much like the instrumental to some obscure, indie-flick: beautiful, melancholy, and inspirational. But in some instances, only to a select few.
