our Story

The DePaul Pop Culture Conference began with a question from a student. In late 2012, after a particularly good discussion about narrative complexity and the Timey-Wimey paradox of “Blink” in my class “Time Travel on Television,” Spencer Flynn asked what I was planning to do for the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who. It was not an unwelcome question: Perhaps because we were talking about “Blink,” or perhaps because of my Doctor Who-themed accessories (pins, ties, and teeshirts) and office door (festooned with Doctor Who images like an Ood mask), Spencer (as well as the other students) somehow seemed to pick up on my particular fandom for this classic British television series. “Well, I’m seeing the fiftieth anniversary movie in the theater,” I said. “And I’m definitely going to rewatch some old episodes! But other than that, I don’t have any specific plans…”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” he responded. “Are you doing anything at DePaul? Can we have a screening? Or can you give a talk or something?”

What a great idea—a short talk about the importance and relevance of Doctor Who for the DePaul community! There are plenty of ties between the Doctor and Vincentian values, such as the care of disadvantaged people, the commitment to social reform, and always asking the question “What can be done?” I bet I could invite some of my colleagues and friends as well. We could have a screening and I could talk about it. But what episode? Classic or new? Which Doctor? A great episode, or a mediocre one?  

And then I got to thinking for real. Who am I to give the talk? Isn’t there so much more to talk about? And what about things I don’t really know about? Maybe I could ask two other people to sit in on a panel with me? But then whom to ask? My mind was spinning and the ideas were flowing. (Spencer, I imagine, did not expect this flood of possibility…). My fannish sensibilities were on overdrive (would it be possible get David Tennant as a guest?) and I thought the event, which I’d now in my head called A Celebration of Doctor Who, might be a cool fan convention.

At the same time, a different Doctor Who related event helped shaped the start of the Pop Culture Conference as well. Walking in Eternity, a 2013 Doctor Who themed scholarly conference, was fresh in my mind when Spencer asked me about my academic plans for Doctor Who’s 50th. I’d just written a paper for the conference which was to be delivered later that year (actually much closer to the 50th anniversary, in September). Like most scholarly conferences, each participant was expected to write and deliver a 20-minute presentation of research. There were academic books for us to browse through and purchase, and teaching materials on display. It was held at a college in the UK, the University of Hertfordshire. We also had well-attended sessions from four keynote speakers throughout the weekend, who focused their hour-long talks on different cultural and industrial aspects of the series. Unlike most scholarly conferences, however, we also were graced by a visit from Doctor Who icon K-9 (the robotic dog) and its owner/operator Mat Irvine; we had an AUTHENTIC DALEK (!!) on display, and we had specially made tee-shirts for the conference. It was, in many respects, a typical scholarly conference but with tinges of fandom garnishing the event. And it was magnificent. 

Indeed, I thought, why not plan an event that was like Walking in Eternity, but reversed? A fan event but with tinges of academic conferencing?

In truth, fan conventions and academic conferences are not as different as many people might think. Fans and scholars participate in many of the same tasks, often debating, discussing, or analyzing texts using multiple methodologies. These differing methodologies become valued differently, depending on the context. For example, Matt Hills (2010, p. 4) has discussed the way fan research tends to be seen as affectively “intra-textual,” as fans dig deeper into a text (something Jason Mittell (2013) has referred to as “drillable media”). Conversely, academic scholarship tends to be read in a scholarly “inter-textual” fashion, moving across, between, betwixt, and within multiple texts and discourses simultaneously (moving in a “spreadable” pattern, to co-opt a term from Jenkins, Ford, and Green (2013)). Each context (convention, conference) brings with it expectations from the participants. We assume that fans are emotionally invested and that academics are objective and scholarly. But these are not necessarily true: plenty of fan conventions feature analytic or “objective” discussions of media and cultural production and academics are nothing if not passionate about their research materials (sometimes they may be one of only a few people in the world who are passionate about them; other times they may study something as popular as, say, Doctor Who).

In addition, both conventions and conference feature panels and roundtable discussions. Both offer workshop spaces, where fans can learn handicrafts from each other and scholars can work on CVs and cover letters. Fans often cosplay (‘dress up’) at cons; academics will wear the clothes of their profession. There are always things to purchase, whether that’s collectibles and swag (the dealer’s hall at fan conventions) or scholarly books (at conferences). Scholarly research into fan conventions has speculated on the communal and participatory nature of the space (Bacon-Smith 1992; Jenkins 1992; Zubernis and Larson 2012), and scholarly conferences are similarly spaces where academics can come together to share research and scholarship on a variety of topics and in fields, often in areas of interest.

In academic literature, the connection between fans and academics has been much discussed. The fan and the scholar are not so much binary opposites as set up on different sides of the same continuum. Academics who are also fans have been called the “aca-fan” (academic-fan, from aca-fan himself Henry Jenkins) and the “scholar-fan” (from Matt Hills). Conversely, fans who participate in more scholarly analyses of their object of fandom have been called “fan-scholars” in academic literature or “meta-fans” in fan parlance. We might call the Walking in Eternity conference a “scholar-fan” space, where scholars of Doctor Who would also be able to stretch their fannish identities. I wanted the Pop Culture Conference to be a place where scholar-fans and fan-scholars could congregate, where fans could stretch their scholarly muscles as well as scholars becoming a bit more fannish. The Pop Culture Conference is a space to enable a fan-scholar/scholar-fan dialogue, one that relies on fannish enthusiasm for the show and couples it with scholarly analysis (Hills 2002). 

Suddenly, I had a plan for A Celebration of Doctor Who—a full day of fannish scholarship (or scholarly fandom?) focused on Doctor Who. Why not invite all the local Doctor Who scholars I knew to come out and do some fun panels? So, I put the word out and people started to submit their ideas. In order to facilitate a more engaging style of discourse, however, the Pop Culture Conference would have to be a space where there were presentations by researchers as well as fans and members of the local community, but these presentations should not be strictly academic paper presentations. So, I asked participants to phrase their responses and topics as discussion points to be addressed in a roundtable format.

The first Pop Culture Conference happened in May 2013 and I figured that was that. Maybe in 25 years, for Doctor Who’s 75th anniversary, I’d revisit. But it was a fun event and the people that attended seemed to have a good time, and I made some friends and had some interesting discussions. A great time, but just a one-time thing.

Until August 2013 and an email in my inbox—“what’s next year’s event going to be about?”

It’s a question we ask every year now—what is the big anniversary for next year? We try to balance types of fandoms, levels of interest from the DePaul community, availability of academic expertise, and that all-important fun quotient. There may be an incredibly passionate fannish subculture for an obscure TV show from the 1970s, but finding a good mix of academic and fan can be tough.

Each year we try to improve from years before, through taking suggestions from attendees and trying new experiments for events and speakers. We continue to grow, and improve, each year. I hope you’ll join us for future events— and I hope you’ll be there when we answer “what’s next year’s event going to be about?”