NerdGirl: Arriving at the Mecca
By Jenn Zipp
I think all Nerds want to fit in some place.
For a long time I wished I was Jewish. I don’t know why out of all the denominations and religions I could’ve chosen to envy, I chose Judaism. There is a certain elitist quality. The Jewish kids had their own summer camps. They had these parties for when they came of age. Hell, they even have their own dating website. (Which yes, I will admit, I made my own profile for. My best friend and I did it on a whim to find Jewish boyfriends). And the best part about being a young Jew is Birthright. You get a free trip to Israel before you turn 26. How many Roman Catholics do you know that get free trips to Italy?
But the fact is, I’m not Jewish. So I tried finding other ways to fit in. I did indeed go to Vietnam, to “the Mother Land”, with my, well, Mother. But no. I was seen more of an outsider there than anywhere else.
In Hawaii, I didn’t fit in with the locals because I burnt too easily in the sun and my parents wouldn’t let me speak Pidgin.
When I was in college, an Indian boy got mad at me because he thought I would understand his perils of being a “minority”. But I never shared in the complex he had because where I grew up, Asians were the majority.
I didn’t fit in anywhere.
That is until I stepped into the San Francisco County Fair Building on that fateful July day.
I stumbled upon this little flier at one of the stores I frequent in the inner Richmond for a ZineFest. What the hell… is a Zinefest? Well, the curiosity was enough to kill this cat because I ended up dragging our graphic designer, Jouko, with me to the San Francisco Zinefest. The minute we stepped in, I knew we had arrived. I grabbed Jouko’s arm and gasped, “We’ve arrived.” It was as if we had made it to our Nerdy Mecca. Tons of nerdy boys and girls with booths set up. Some had knitted crafts that they were trying to sell. Others made t-shirts. They sold buttons. There was a booth that was solely dedicated to Bad Date Zines.
Jouko failed to see the cause of my excitement. “It smells like vegan armpit in here.” Right as he muttered that, a nerdy boy with glasses, started speaking through a bullhorn, but the static drowned out whatever million dollar adjectives he was using to describe the prizes that the raffle had to offer.
It was the first time that I felt that somewhere in this weird awkward place known as the World, I had found my niche amongst other Nerds. At a Zinefest, of all places.
It’s still cooler than the library.