Improving Fandom Spaces for Aspec People
Not too long ago, I witnessed an interesting – but sadly not
unique – phenomenon in one of my fandoms. In online spaces, fans were
discussing the potential that something upcoming could be of a decidedly
sexualized nature, which stood in stark contrast to the usually non-sexual
nature of the content. For obvious reasons, I myself was dreading this
possibility, as were a surprising number of other fans who, like me, were
adamantly against this avenue. Lest I draw too much hope from that, however, I
quickly encountered other people in different online spaces who were discussing
the opinions of the fandom… by completely ignoring them.
Instead of acknowledging the many people who were against
this potentially sexualized content, some fans chose to homogenize the whole
fandom by making the blanket statement that “everyone” was looking forward to
the content. Some even went so far as to say that “everyone” wanted this type
of content in the future. Others still, who could see very clearly that this
bold assumption was not true, immediately shamed the people who, like me, were
unexcited by the prospect or actively hoped it didn’t happen. As I said, this
was interesting, but not entirely surprising – interesting because not only was
it completely at odds with the tenets of our fandom, but it was also based on a
homogenization of the fandom that is very obviously impossible and unfair; not
surprising because, as an aspec woman in fandom, I see this type of thing
happen all the time.
But there is another way that this proved unpleasantly
interesting to me. Around the same time, I was asking other online fans if
there was anyone else on the asexual or aromantic spectrums, and was delighted
to find some people who were. Someone not on either spectrum left a very sweet
comment on the post as an ally, reminding me I was not alone, sending me best
wishes, and confidently assuring me I was welcome in the fandom. This comment
was lovely, and I really appreciated it; however, when the aforementioned
conversations were happening in posts right underneath this, it was difficult
to really believe the assertions.
We’ve all heard the phrase “actions speak louder than words,”
but when it comes to allyship, I would say a better rule of thumb is this: your
actions and your words should match. In my experience, liking someone’s post
about their identity is nice and reminding them they’re not alone is valuable
and will doubtless mean a lot to them. But if our allies only say the things
that sound nice without actually helping us find a safe space within our
fandoms, the words sadly ring a little hollow. Hearing I’m welcome in a fandom
is great, but when I know sharing my true feelings will get me called a fake
fan or an immature idiot because I’m literally seeing it happen in real time –
including by the people saying they’re allies – then I can’t actually trust the
words that are being said.
The sad thing is, I don’t think this dissonance between
words and actions is done on purpose. Using me as an example, the things I’m
sensitive to and the things that other aspec people might be sensitive to are
often very different. That puts allies in the unenviable position of having to
navigate a lot of different comfort levels in order to match an invisible and
undefinable standard of being a “good” ally. This is part of why I called my
post about allyship “How to be a Better Ally,” rather than a “good
ally,” because what makes a “good” ally is not the same in all situations. As I
said, I don’t envy people who find themselves in this position because I think
it’s impossible to make everyone feel happy or included. However, I do believe
there are ways fandoms and fandom spaces can improve for aspec people and
non-aspec people alike. There are ways that fandoms like the one I mentioned in
this introduction can move into a place where their words and their actions do
indeed match, and where all people can feel like they’re truly a part of the
conversation. As I said, these won’t be universal, but I do hope they are good
rules of thumb that can help fans in the quest to coexist.
Fandom Spaces:
The Eternal Struggle
First up, I want to talk about fandom spaces themselves and why they present such
a constant struggle for all people, not just aspec ones like me. When I say
“fandom spaces,” I’m using it as a catch-all term for any number of social
media platforms where people share fandom content – everywhere from Facebook
and Twitter, to blogging sites like Tumblr, to fanfiction websites. These are
incredibly diverse platforms, full of incredibly diverse fans, which means that
it’s impossible for everyone to be constantly or completely happy with the
content they’re seeing. Even trying to cultivate a space that appeals
specifically to you, such as your Tumblr dashboard, is enormously difficult.
When you’re on the asexual or aromantic spectrums, this can become even harder
for reasons I will discuss later. And if you’re sex-repulsed like me – or if
you have any other valid reason why you don't want to see sexual content – it becomes
nearly impossible.
For those of us who don’t want to see such content, it
becomes an issue of moderation – chiefly that there is nothing to effectively
help us with these issues and situations. For those people who do want such
content, this moderation can veer into territories of censorship, which is
often the last thing either side wants. One of the best examples of this is the
crusade Tumblr went on a few years ago to try and curb the influx of porn bots
on the site. Tumblr porn bots are blogs that seem legitimate at first – they
have a fairly benign avatar, a non-assuming username, and will follow all sorts
of blogs or like their posts. But click on one, and you’ll find it’s full of
everything from nude photos to straight-up explicit pornographic content.
Furthermore, these blogs have been known to hack the blogs of legitimate users,
causing their accounts to send out deluges of links for porn websites. Over the
years, this porn bot activity has increased on Tumblr and has become quite the
problem. Thus, Tumblr decided to try and combat the issue, but in a rather odd
and unexpected way.
My recall on the exact details is not crystal clear, but I
don’t think I’ll ever forget the infamously bad algorithm Tumblr attempted to
use to cull the sexually explicit content, which was on the hunt for what was
described as “female-presenting nipples” (yes, really). Some people pointed out
how having the algorithm focus on “female-presenting nipples” carried with it a
host of problems, but beyond those problems was another clear issue – the
algorithm wasn’t even especially good at finding them. In the weeks that
followed, Tumblr was full of people showing off posts that were erroneously
flagged as explicit. Sometimes these things were hilarious because you could
see why the algorithm got confused; other times, they were hilarious because
the algorithm was so far off the mark that it was impossible to imagine what it
could have been thinking. For instance, the only post of mine that was ever
flagged was a post featuring screenshots from the movie 1776. If you’re unfamiliar
with this film, it’s a musical about America’s independence, meaning that what
the algorithm flagged as explicit was a picture of the founding fathers in
their 1700’s appropriate costumes. Why the algorithm thought this was explicit,
I will never know.
However, the site has content issues beyond just the dodgy algorithm. Although most everyone agrees that the porn bots were an enormous problem, there are many other blogs out there that aren’t porn blogs, but that post sexually explicit content, such as fan art or writings. Tumblr allows you to tag posts however you want, as well as gives users the option to filter out certain tags they don’t want to see, but it’s not as simple as just filtering out tags like “Not Safe for Work.” For a start, a blog needs to accurately tag their posts with those tags in order for other users’ blacklists to pick them up. And quite often, people neglect to tag NSFW content for whatever reason. I’m sure in many cases, bloggers just genuinely forget to tag a post; but in other cases, I have to wonder if the belief that everyone is comfortable with the same content leads people to just not tag explicit posts because they don’t think it’s necessary. Furthermore, things like the Tumblr porn bot hunt ironically present problems when it comes to things like this because many blogs that posted explicit content were concerned their blogs would be eradicated as collateral damage. As such, they avoided using tags such as “smut” or “NSFW” out of fear the algorithm would flag them, instead switching to other, less obvious tags. In my case, I was lucky to follow blogs who gave ample warning that they would be changing their tagging systems so I knew what new tags to put into my Tumblr blacklist. However, if I had missed those warnings or if the blogs I followed didn’t give that notice, I would have been in trouble.
Because of that, Tumblr’s attempt to moderate explicit
content actually made things worse in many cases rather than better – and
didn’t even do that decent of a job at eradicating the porn bots anyway. In my
opinion, the fact that the whole thing became such a fiasco is extremely
unfortunate. If Tumblr had come up with a way to actually give people like me a
reliable way to not be subjected to “adult content” (a term I already take issue with) rather than trying to destroy it outright, perhaps I’d still be
using the site. Despite its efforts, Tumblr is not a place where I as a
sex-repulsed aspec person feel comfortable being. So, like I am often forced
to do, I was left with no real choice but to abandon it.
The Diversity
of Fandoms
As mentioned above, the diverse nature of any fandom or
platform makes it impossible for everyone to be happy all the time – and the
Tumblr example clearly demonstrates why creating inclusive fandom spaces is
such a challenge. As well-intentioned as their efforts might have been, they
ended up being completely unworkable because different people want different
things out of their fandom experience, and they use fandom for different
things. Whereas I might use it to explore the possibility of my favorite
characters being aspec, another fan elsewhere on the LGBTQIA+ spectrum might have
a completely different interpretation, one that is just as deeply held and
important to them as mine is to me. Unfortunately, those things don’t always
live in harmony with one another, and I have seen many examples of it first-hand.
I cover some of these examples in my post “The Dangers of Sexualizing Non-Sexual Characters,” where I discuss the fandom tendency to sexualize
characters that exhibit aspec tendencies or who have largely non-sexual or
non-romantic storylines.
I believe many of the characters mentioned in that post are
sexualized in part because they are attractive. For characters who exist within
roleplay games (such as the characters I mention from Dragon Age), the
ability to romance them with the player’s character leads to a lot of people
who likewise want to portray them in sexualized fan art or smut fanfiction. The
act of doing so is, for many fans, a way to explore and express their sexuality
in a safe, healthy way. And, for fans whose sexual orientations and/or gender
identities are still underrepresented, this becomes even more pronounced. Like
me, these fans desire representation, and often use fandom spaces as a way to
have it. This can be accomplished through headcanoning characters from their
favorite media as sharing in their identity, as I often do with characters I
headcanon as aspec. It can also be accomplished through ships, fan art and fan
works, and creating original characters who can be paired with characters in
the media. This often does wonders not only for the content creator themselves,
but for other people who share their identity, allowing them to feel less alone
and more visible. However, there can be unfortunate moments where one person’s
notion of good representation feels as though it infringes on the good
representation of another group or person.
I covered an example of this phenomenon in my post about aspec representation in the webseries Critical Role, which follows a
group of voice actors who play Dungeons & Dragons. During the show’s
second campaign, dungeon master Matt Mercer confirmed that popular non-player
character, dark elf Essek Thelyss, was demisexual and demiromantic. In my post
about the show, I mention moments throughout the campaign where I feel Essek’s
demisexual and demiromantic identities make appearances, but I believe the best
place it can be seen is in the unfolding of his relationship with player
character Caleb Widogast (played by Liam O’Brien). During the campaign’s
finale, Liam made it clear that Caleb would want to stay with Essek for a
while, and Matt confirms Essek would want this too. During the episode, they
never explicitly mention anything romantic or sexual in nature, which I believe
goes a long way to demonstrating Essek’s demisexual/demiromantic identity, and
how his romance with Caleb is and would be a slow progression.
Image description: Essek, as portrayed in the animated opening of Critical Role. Image obtained from the Critical Role wiki |
However, this fact – combined with a comment by Liam that makes it seem like Caleb would eventually end the romance due to differences in Caleb and Essek's life expectancy – caused some tension in the fandom. There were some who lamented that Caleb and Essek might eventually end up as “just friends,” while some fans on the LGBTQIA+ spectrum expressed disappointment that the campaign’s male/male relationship was neither clearly confirmed in-game, nor seemed to stay together long-term in the romantic sense. Although both Liam and Matt confirmed on Twitter that they did intend Caleb and Essek’s relationship to be seen as a romantic one, queer fans saw this as the pairing not getting a “happy ending,” and called upon the show to do better for its male/male relationships. While I can definitely understand their frustration, this incident is a clear example of the struggle to coexistence within fandom spaces. To me, Essek and Caleb’s relationship feels like it perfectly allows for romance to blossom in a way that fits Essek’s aspec nature; and for Essek, a character for whom friendship changed the entire course of his story, I don’t think he himself would see being friends with Caleb, if that is in fact what would eventually happen, as being a disappointment or a punishment. But for fans, especially those in male/male relationships themselves, it feels like erasure.
I fear that these reactions, while understandable, may make
it harder for aspec people to get their own representation in future, because
moments that may be used to establish aspec identities may be seen as
problematic by other fans. Beyond just Caleb and Essek, I’ve seen countless
examples where people try to headcanon a character as aspec and are accused of
bigotry, chiefly because so many other groups are starving for good
representation free of damaging tropes or assumptions about their sexuality.
They long to take back their own stories, and portraying healthy sexuality can
be an important part of that for some fans. As such, they can sometimes end up
at odds with those of us who long for these characters to be aspec. In these
situations, coexistence seems impossible. But I would argue it’s not.
What Would Make
Me Personally Feel More Comfortable In Fandom Spaces
Something I like to reiterate constantly is that what makes one aspec person feel safe and welcome does not universally apply to all aspec people, nor does it apply to all fandom spaces. As a sex-repulsed AroAce, for instance, my boundary lines are often quite different from other people on the spectrum. However, when it comes to the question of what would personally make me feel safe in fandom spaces, I believe many aspec and non-aspec people would agree with my answer – being mindful and respecting boundaries. Both of these are things I discussed in my “How to Be a Better Ally” post, and I wholeheartedly believe these two things are essential in both real life and in fandom.
There are many times where a little mindfulness in fandoms would go a long way, both from allosexual fans and aspec ones too. Think about the examples I used earlier and how a little mindfulness, coupled with a healthy acknowledgement of boundaries, would go a long way. If people were more mindful of the different levels of comfort people have with various content, and more carefully considered how they approached other fans, the fandom mentioned in my intro would not have been trying to achieve harmony through shouting others down. If more people tagged their NSFW posts on Tumblr (or even if the tagging system was easier somehow), we might be able to have a more safe and inclusive community, female-presenting nipples and all.
In my opinion, the act of
mindfulness and respecting boundaries is good general advice for anyone, not
just related to sexual content, but related to any kind of content that could
be potentially “sensitive content.” Again, those things vary from person to
person, and it’s impossible to write a story or make a piece of fan art that
everyone feels comfortable with, but there are easy ways to try and make things
a little bit better. Anyone in fandom spaces has likely heard of content
warnings, which you will sometimes see in my posts when I talk about
particularly virulent aphobia, or anything else that I fear may cause readers
emotional pain. But beyond content warnings, simply tagging things well can go
a long way, and that simply requires a little time, a little patience, and the
ability to step back and think about what others will be seeing when they
interact with your content.
Content warnings are important in
online spaces for obvious reasons. But what about when it comes to doing
something as simple as sharing opinions? I believe very strongly that people
have a right to express their opinions and speak freely in fandom spaces, as
long as what they say isn’t dangerous or actively damaging. But a lot of times, I don’t think we stop to consider the passive damage certain comments can do.
When I as an aspec person see opinions like mine shouted down or see the people
who expressed those opinions called “fake fans” or “prudes,” these things are
not actively encouraging harm, inciting violence, using slurs, etc. In some
cases, they may not even be directed to a specific person. But they don’t exist
in a vacuum, and they still have the ability to negatively affect aspec people
and non-aspec people alike. I have often felt very alone in fandoms, and when
comments like that exist, I feel more alone to the point where I abandon any
hope of fitting in with people in fandom spaces. This in turn completely
destroys my enjoyment of most fandom-based activities, and even makes it harder
to feel like I want to create content for that specific fandom.
Speaking of which, another thing that I believe would really help this issue is supporting aspec content creators, as well as fandom spaces that are run by aspec people or that cater to them specifically. I’ve mentioned Tumblr a great deal in this post, and something like this can be accomplished on Tumblr through simple acts like reblogging and praising non-sexual or non-romantic art, or art done by aspec artists, as well as by following aspec blogs. If those blogs are also about aspec issues and you follow them to become more informed about aspec issues, bonus points. Even in cases where content is not for you, helping it reach a wider audience can likewise be very helpful. And these types of things aren’t limited to Tumblr, of course. If you’re a fanfiction reader, something that can go a long way is leaving kind comments on stories featuring aspec original characters or aspec headcanons. As I discussed in the previous section, I know that sometimes certain aspec headcanons can feel like they’re infringing on other representation, and I get that. But I encourage people to check out a person’s story, headcanon, etc. before you assume they’re willfully trying to suppress another form of representation. There are definitely some instances where content creators are trying to do just that, but I would be willing to bet that the large majority of people are still honoring other parts of a character’s identity while portraying them as aspec.
And of course, as mentioned at the start of this post, one of the best ways you can support aspec fans is to have your words and your actions match. This is something I ran into quite a bit when I was a part of a Discord server for Dragon Age fan writers. Discord is an online chat platform with different “channels,” which essentially function as chatrooms, and one such feature is the ability to make NSFW channels so that people who don’t want to experience NSFW content don’t have to go into those channels. This works well in theory, but in practice, not so much. Again, this is because of the assumption that everyone is comfortable with the same level of content, and so, while any explicit NSFW content was saved for those channels, there were plenty of times when people would nevertheless make sexual innuendos or other such ribald jokes/comments in the regular channels. Even though the people on the server were always willing to do things like listen to me discuss my aspec headcanons, for instance, these other assumptions led to the server being an uncomfortable place for me regardless.
In general, while it may seem like none of these things are
exactly the end of the world, I believe they create an atmosphere in which aspec
people are excluded from their fandoms, just by virtue of being aspec, and that
is a problem. Although none of these things may seem especially bad overall, I believe that together
they become one more thing that’s harder for aspec people. I’m sure it’s
no surprise to you that the Discord server I used to be a part of in the
previous example is one I’ve since had to quit, just like with Tumblr and any
other myriad fandom spaces I’ve felt I had to leave due to feeling like I was
actively not welcome there. But I believe it
really doesn’t have to be this way. As humans, I think we’re always going to
struggle to see things from the point of view of others, but practicing these
tips even slightly can go a long way to helping these issues be corrected – or perhaps even never start at all.
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Overall, I personally believe that fandom spaces are
microcosms for most things in life; as such, there will always be something or
someone in fandom that we disagree with or whose opinions we find mildly
infuriating. However, even as we acknowledge that reality, I think we can also
embrace methods that will help people of all kinds feel a bit more comfortable
in fandom spaces. Because this post focuses on making fandom a better place for
aspec people, it is easy to think this is an aspec issue only; but I really do
believe that doing so would be beneficial not only to people on the asexual and
aromantic spectrums, but to people of all kinds.
During the interaction I had with fellow online fans where
an ally assured me I was welcome, I couldn’t quite believe what was being said
because the actions and the words didn’t quite match up. Not everything in life
can be designed for me, and that’s okay. But I do believe it’s possible to get
to a place where more people like me (and not like me) can in fact feel welcome
within their online communities. While it will never be perfect, I do believe
we can take steps right now to foster better fandom spaces where people
actually will feel like it’s true when someone tells them they belong.
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