When I was a little girl I dreamily envisioned myself becoming a Librarian. I read constantly. I got in fist fights with my brothers over books. I envisioned myself in fantasy lands and faraway places. My mother loathed the Lord of the Rings, so I read it and loved it.
I was introduced to Star Trek by my Aunt Nancy when she would babysit us while Mom went to work as a waitress at Schnickel Fritz, a German Deli in the mall.
When I became an adult, I married a Star Trek Captain. (No, seriously.)
We were all in. I went to conventions. We had club meetings. You had to work your way through the ranks. My uniform looks crappy. The one that we had custom made was still being custom freaking made. No Rubie’s bullstuff for this girl.
My son is a cadet in the Star Trek club. Yes, I am creating geeks too. Max is a GIANT fan of Dr. Who. (Chris Eccleston is my favorite Doctor, if you’re wondering. Why yes. I do need a Doctor.)
It is my hope to have children who are never ashamed of the things that they love. Being a geek isn’t something you choose to do. You’re born a geek. You see the pleasure in the geeky things. Planes, and games, and fangs! OH MY! We can’t help who (or what) we love.
I also want them to know that if someone doesn’t absolutely adore them for who they are than they should move on. I mean, if your are living in your own filth that’s one thing, but if you’re a Vulcan who likes sassy Klingons (they’re all sassy) you should let your geek flag fly.