adventures in staffing

Staffers have it rough. 

Depending upon who you are/know/meet, this statement can either be myth or reality, understated or over-idealized. Staffers provide the necessary manpower and physical energy to run conventions, showcasing a strong devotion and stronger will. They are the glue that holds events together, often working for little more than floor space, a badge, and some food. And while reading these words here might sound incredibly obvious to a reader staring at a computer screen, during the con, they might never cross a person’s mind. 

Staffing a con is fairly close at times to being a thankless job. Some gather long lists of “horror stories” on par with those that all service folk manage to compile over the long years of “dealing with the public,” while others throw themselves into their work, almost to the point of collapse. But those same staffers also smile, knowing that their devotion and dedication allow for the events they work to play out, and bring joy to the attendees who crowd the halls, the same people who might not notice them, might have unfair opinions of them, or might never stop and consider joining those ranks themselves. 

Those readers who have met me know I have had a longtime desire to actually staff a convention- it was the one role I never took on at a con, usually due to programming obligations. I dabbled a bit in it at Nekocon last November, but the two instances that stand out in my mind revolved around me covering a panel on Sunday morning- which is something I’m familiar with, and therefore “not a staff duty” to me- and locking up panel rooms late Friday night. An extensive list of panels and observations on Saturday fractured any sort of concrete shift schedule, and the rest of the time I was mostly running around the con floor, wondering what exactly I was supposed to be doing. 

from east to (mid) west: reflections on anime central 2014

When I started traveling to cons in earnest back in 2009, one of the biggest questions I had was how do events in my region differ from elsewhere. While I eventually became intimately familiar with the East Coast con scene (and especially the ones in Virginia and New England), I had little contact with the communities outside of those areas. Even after attending events in Ohio, and Otakon Vegas this past January, I still had little experience observing con dynamics away from what I was familiar with.  

So when the chance came to travel to Chicago for Anime Central, I was more than willing to take the plunge. Given the history and size of the event, it was more than worth the time and investment to fly out to Illinois and experience something different. And Anime Central was definitely something different. 

I first started attending Anime Central in 2009, back when I was finishing up my MA thesis on online communications. I had been out of the American convention scene for awhile, and wanted to go; I ended up staffing, and doing two panels (on Japanese sacred lore, and how not to talk like a 13-year-old). Back then, Anime Central seemed a good place to relax, and get enthusiastic about guests or series. And, as someone who loves looking at art of various forms and figures, the Artists' Alley was the best I had seen. So when I was able to come to Anime Central once more for 2014, I really wanted to make it count. I would staff. I would do panels. I just wanted to be there. I also wanted to see my past staff and people I worked with again, as well as artists, as well as some of the guests, so this year really was my chance to go if I was to go again at all.

empire and language

We're still recovering from Anime Central 2014, please pardon the lateness!

During Anime Central this year, I (Kit) had mentioned that world politics during the mid-late 1800s played a part in the words we use and how we think of the institution of the ruling family in Japan. An audience member challenged this: the ruling family had been in Japan for centuries, after all. How could the imperial family be relatively new?

The Dolls for Hina-matsuri, the Doll Festival, are of the emperor, empress, attendants, and more. (From Tokyo Kids.)

The Yamatos are not new, nor are any of the noble clans. 

The words - especially the words in English - used to describe them, however, have changed over time.

The word for the Imperial Household is - in Japanese - koshitsu ( 皇室　). The Japanese title for the figure of the monarch is tenno ( 天皇　), and the name for the ruler's female consort is kogo ( 皇后 ). In older works, sometimes across different languages such as Dutch, Portuguese, or others, the translations vary a bit: sovereign, sovereign wife, queen, king, emperor, empress. In modern English, we would say "Emperor", or "Empress" - but much of the English wording is because of other factors. For example, during the Meiji and Showa eras, the nobility were classed into a five-rank system closely resembling western European systems: prince, marquis, count, viscount, and baron. These terms are approximations: the Japanese terms, such as koshaku, (侯爵 )were new interpretations and re-orderings of older Chinese terms. In other words, existing words that had been used to describe a borrowed or native ranking system were re-interpreted to fit in a Western European context.

Why might this be?

Remember when all this happened. These reforms took place from the 1850s onward. During this time, not only was the United States forcing trade, but the French had many colonies, as did the Portuguese and the Dutch; also, the countries Japan sent missions to emulate governments and education systems - Great Britain and Germany - were empires. As in, even their own governments considered themselves an empire. (Germany was considered the German Empire from 1871 - 1918, thanks to Wilhelm and Bismarck.) China had an emperor also, even if just in name. So to the Japanese mind, they had to use language to say: we are your equals, we are just as good as any of you. We will sit at the table of the world governments and have our own say in what happens to us.

Japan wanted to be taken seriously by the world powers of the time.

So the ruling family of Japan became "the imperial family", and the translations have since standardized into the Emperor, Empress (but Crown Princess, Crown Prince, etc) and Imperial Household.  Since the Constitution of 1947, these translations and customs/laws of the imperial household have further crystallized, even to the point of many imperial kin families (noble families with blood ties to the imperial main line) being cut off from imperial succession, and controversy over many other related topics: the influence of the war on the constitution and imperial household, revisions of the laws of who can succeed the longest ruling dynasty in the world, the position of princesses, the pressure to have children, and more.

kotodama: the power of words

Words have power.

"I go into my library, and history rolls before me. I breathe the morning air of the world while the scent of Eden's roses yet linger on it. I see the pyramids building. I hear the shouts of the armies of Alexander."

Alexander Smith - inscription at the Brooklyn Central Library

Cultures worldwide seem to have some variant of this. Stories can hurt and ruin, as well as inspire and heal. Words can become mechanisms linking people to each other - and the divine to people and back again. In Buddhism and Judaism, "right speech" (or avoiding lashon hara, the wayward tongue) are commandments. We can go to a library, or online, and read the words and thoughts of many people - both local to us and distant - and have hope that we may be able to understand what they felt, what they reasoned. Even across time, we can do this: we can read the thinkers of the past. Maybe with a little help, granted, but it's still possible. No wonder words were considered magic!

In Japan, these ideas are embraced in the phrase "kotodama" ( 言霊　), written with the characters for language and soul.

Dimensional witches love their words. Moshi moshi? (xxxHolic)

Kotodama, as this article by Naoko Hosokawa explains, has had changes in meaning over time: first used to mean native Japanese words used in traditional blessings and appeasement rituals (instead of Chinese inspired words), during the last century in Japan it has also been used to bolster a national wartime identity and to resist Western loan words, attempting to "keep the language pure" or "to not pollute this country of kotodama".

In other words, that the Japanese language somehow has a spirit on its own, and that it is a sacred thing that must be kept pure.

This idea is not new, as I said, or even particular to Japan. Abrahamic religions have this: Hebrew lived as a religious language for centuries, with much ink given to the ideas that the Divine created Everything by mystically arranging letters in black fire on white fire. Latin and Greek were considered mysterious, partly for its use in churches and ritual, partly for its ability to communicate across distances (it was a language of court and of law), and partly because the common person did not understand it except through the religious/ritual context. In fact, the Roman Catholic Church conducting ceremonies in the common language of the area is still a new thing, historically: the Church revised its position on the language of services in the 1960s. Latin remains an official language of the Vatican. In Islam, the language of the Qu'ran is so important, that any Qu'ran that does not have the original text in Arabic is not considered a true and holy Qu'ran, but merely an explanation, or a teaching tool for those who would not otherwise understand.

In Asia, this applies to Sanskrit, classical Chinese, and of course Japanese; that words, sounds, have inherent power. In manga and novels, this comes up again and again: verbal contracts to fox-magic to incantations from diviners and mountain ascetics.

 But taking the Japanese example again: it's not just debating language used in shrines, or in temples. It's general language too, and struggles for power, identity, and negotiating space amidst so much change.

Uka-no-Mitama likes video games - and romance. (Inari Konkon Koi Iroha)

the sounds of silence (communication in japanese)

Kit here again!

I was just talking about Kill la Kill, and when rewatching the series I was struck by how little Satsuki actually says; when she does talk, it tends to be important. At the same time, some of what she says doesn't quite convey her feelings. She sounds cool, and lofty, but at the same time... we get glimpses of her true feelings only rarely, and when she speaks of what she feels, those are rarer moments still. Her actions seem to convey her emotions more succinctly than any words.

Satsuki expresses so much!

This idea of communication that isn't necessarily spoken, comes up again and again in anime and manga.

"Very complex emotions are shown by facial expressions,” Yukari Fujimoto [associate professor, Meiji University] said. “Japanese people don’t clearly speak about their emotions in words, so therefore in daily life as well Japanese try to read each other’s expressions."

- from "Understanding Japan through manga" by John Rash

These ideas are known by many phrases such as "mental telepathy" or "reading the atmosphere", but all boil down to non-spoken communication. It's why much is left unsaid in anime and manga: even if you just want character X to confess their love for character Y, and you know X and Y love each other, they might find other ways of expressing it rather than coming right out to say "I love you". After all, if Character X said "I love you" to Character Y, what can Y say in response? It might become really awkward. Of course, these sorts of tensions and worrying about what someone might mean or not gets more complicated: there are concepts of "public face" and "private feelings" in Japan that have a bit more emphasis than in American cultures, and so in public, people might feel constrained on what they can express, too. The fiction of a single shared "Japanese society" also includes avoidance of confrontation when possible: so silence may convey concern just as easily as it may convey a pleasant shared experience for which no words could describe except perhaps a line or two of poetry. (In fact, the celebrated poem-contests of imperial courtly life were a way to express what often could not be outright said, while still having plenty of room for interpretation and 'mood'.)

Sound confusing?

This doesn't just apply to romance either. It can apply to businesses too, or any sort of thing. Banks in Japan had a high approval rate because they simply didn't proceed with loans or anything they thought could be too risky. They wouldn't outright refuse, but instead say something like "...well, it might take a long time" or "there are complicating factors". This let them avoid rejecting applicants outright, helping their ratings and - so the idea goes - helping the other party save some face.

In anime and manga though, usually you see the results of this emphasis on non-spoken communication in terms of relationships - from family, to friends, to romance, to everyday interactions with classmates or coworkers.

In books like the bilingual "Eigo de hanasu 'Nihon no kokoro' - Keys to the Japanese Heart and Soul" - this form of not-stating is described as starting early on in parent-child relationships, where the child learns to trust the relationship, and looks on nonverbal cues. Perhaps that is the case, but even so, when you hear "that's just how things are done" or "you should have known" - these signs and cues are learned. So don't worry if you don't know them, or come from a society that idealizes honesty and individual passions. It can get confusing for Japanese people sometimes too - which is why many manga pages or anime episodes are spent on wondering about the true emotions of a character!