Writing is a passion of mine, but until I can do this for a living I earn my meager restitution by teaching English to 9th graders. It’s not a bad gig, to be frank. As much as I love to rail against the sorry state of Gen Z’ers, truth be told, they aren’t such a terrible group. I get to mentor the next generation of young adults, sculpt minds, take the entire summer off, and, best of all, work in a profession where comparing ourselves to Nazis is seen as a positive thing.

I’m talking about grammar Nazis, ya’ll.

There’s a hierarchy in play in every school I’ve taught in. English teachers are at the top. Observationally speaking, we tend to be the most dedicated, the most passionate, and the most detail oriented (myself usually being the notable exception). Unbeknownst to the coaches, they are at the bottom. In fact, there seems to be an inverse relationship between one’s position within the hierarchy, and one’s ego.

“After practice, let’s give the English teachers swirlies.”

As teachers, we are ultra-competitive. We want to be on top. We volunteer for duties that increase our already heavily burdened work output, but offer zero monetary compensation. Job opened up for Department Chair position? Twice as much work with no extra pay? Sign me the fuck up. That elitism makes us better. And when we are better, the school is better. When the school is better, the students learn better.

This elitism works well on the job because it makes everyone strive to work harder towards a common goal. This level of competition is good and healthy. However, elitism in our hobbies is a malignant cancer. Unlike the world of professional careers and competitive sports, elitism in hobbies stifles creativity, suppresses growth, and discourages new participation.

 

“…elitism in hobbies stifles creativity, suppresses growth, and discourages new participation.”

 

Elitism is nothing new. Hundreds of years ago many European countries had Sumptuary Laws – laws on the books that limited the color and style of clothing and jewelry that people were allowed to wear based on their social status. Wear too many rings and you could have been imprisoned. Fashion was dictated by the elite and the lower class were kept legally out of style. Elitism in our hobbies stems from this same desire to feel superior, and the result is similar – those with the money, time and/or resources are the ones who control the hobby. Instead of an outlet where all members, regardless of skill and economic disadvantage, are valued and encouraged, we end up with a small group of elites that “buy” their way to the top of the hobby and crush anyone who tries to belong but can’t afford it.

Gotta throw down fat stacks of farthings to look this krispy.

I belong to several hobby groups on Facebook. I find FB groups can be a great place to ask or, and receive, information and inspiration. Until they inevitably and inexorably degrade into an elitist circle-jerk. The 3d printing groups I belong to may just be the worst offenders. In the general 3d printing groups they bash the entry level, affordable, 3d printers. Anyone who asks for advice using an Ender 3 or Ultimaker will be met with derision. “Get a real printer,” or “Your printer sucks,” or the ever helpful, “Get Gud.” So the novice 3d printer, who has encountered a problem in a hobby that has a very steep learning curve, comes to a group of fellow 3d printers for help and comes away from the situation denigrated and dismayed and no closer to a solution than when they started. The frustration of learning to 3d print, as well as the browbeating from daring to not drop a grand or more on a hobby one is just starting, is enough to discourage any noob from continuing.

Archery is another activity I’ve taken up and it’s the closest thing to any kind of sport that I’ve ever participated in (sportsball has never been one of my things). The amount of elitism and exclusivity in the world of archery is dizzying. Traditional archers feel superior to people who use compound bows (“training wheels,” as they call them), and compound bow users feel superior because they can hit targets much farther out with much greater accuracy. But even within these two groups there are competing factions of elites. In the traditional camp there are those who insist that anyone using bows with laminated or fiberglass limbs and aluminum arrows are not “real” traditionalists. If you aren’t using a stick bow with wooden arrows and a naked forearm you’re fake. In the Compound bow camp you’re a nobody unless you’re slinging arrows from a $2000-$3000 Hoyt or Matthews. I’ve seen time and again someone posting pics asking or help on their shooting form only to be told to “take off the training wheels if you want to be a real man.” I shoot both. The truth is they both have their strengths and weaknesses. They both are challenging in their own way. But the elites don’t want to see their hobby grow. They are part of a Good Ole Boys club and newbs are a threat to their status. It’s better to tear them down and run them off than embrace the growth and spread the love.

No one likes crossbow shooters.

These attitudes aren’t relegated to geeky tech groups and pseudo-sports groups either. My wife has become somewhat of a guinea pig enthusiast recently. The guinea pig group joined for advice and information is no different. Just try to post a picture of your pig in a cage bought at Wal-Mart (you know, the one with the friggin’ guinea pig on the box) and see how many angry middle-aged women will tear your ass down for keeping the pig in a cage that’s too small. Don’t wash your hands before playing with your pigs? That’s a verbal beat-down, son. And don’t even think about coming in there with no short haired American breed. You ain’t shit unless your flashin’ an Abyssinian or a skinny pig.

Action Figure collectors, Instant Pot communities, flintknapping groups, fossil collectors, tabletop RPG groups, cosplayers, runners, dieters, whatever your hobby, there are elitists bringing negativity and discouraging new enthusiasts. So how do we stop it? Some might argue that this is just the nature of Facebook. It’s a toxic cesspool that devours all things good and leaves only filth in its wake. I’m not so sure. I see Facebook more like a funhouse mirror. It shows us a reflection of ourselves, only a little distorted to enhance the really unflattering parts. Either way, hobbies have greatly benefited from online communities and they can be a great place to share ideas and insider secrets, if the community is managed properly. There are a few really successful communities online that have managed to stop the relentless elitism, but it requires committed mods and admin to silence it when it pops up. Larger communities suffer from it most. Look for smaller groups with fewer members. Help the admins out by denouncing elitism when you see it. Offer praise, advice, and encouragement to noobs looking for guidance. And take back our hobbies.