Anime used to be something of a closet hobby. I remember when I would drop $40 on a simple Sailor Jupiter fan guide imported to my local comic shop, poly-bagged and taped up so that small children couldn’t get a good look at it since it was a severe rarity at the time. Before Pokemon hit our shores, I remember sitting in a dark room with my friend Lauren back in my sophomore year of high school and gawking at the sailor moon posters that slathered every inch of her walls (and this was all imported mind you), giggling as we watched horrible copies of Chinese fan subs of the R and S movies. I remember when all I could find locally was Tenchi Muyo and Patlabor on video, and those videos cost a pretty penny. And I’m not even one of the oldest hardcore American Otaku.
So what’s my point? My point is that American Anime fandom is something unique; an industry that began by fans and for fans. It started its humble roots in basements and garages, where people swapped awful video tapes that had copies of copies of copies, and they gleefully did so to see whatever they could get their hands on. It was when fan-zines were published out of folk’s homes and distributed to a small local fan base, as my friends at the now defunct A-2 Press did. There were no Pokemon tournaments or Anime viewing nights at the local library, no theatrical releases of Miyazaki classics or college lecture events on the art style. It was a closet hobby, and one that the fans pleaded to have circulated more commercially here in the states. They wanted, they begged, they pleaded.
And eventually, we got exactly what we wanted.
Manga became well circulated here in the states, and we could see it all in perfectly legal, well translated, high quality beauty in front of our eyes. And it was even formatted properly! Anime became as commonplace on television as the rest of the cartoons I loved to watch, and the concept of spending an evening watching old Tex Avery classics followed by Outlaw Star appealed to me in ways I can’t even explain. It was a ‘glory days’ scenario to me. The stuff was everywhere, and I loved it. I sank money into DVDs even when I couldn’t afford it. I remember with R.O.D.: The TV was coming out on disc here, well before I knew any voice actors or had friends within the industry, I would run to Best Buy or Suncoast after work and immediately snatch up the next volume, take it home, order some Chinese food from the joint around the corner, and the three of us in my apartment would sit down and watch the entire DVD from start to finish, then sit around and talk about the plot. As my friend Tim would say, “Good times!”
As the years have progressed however, that generation and the few short generations past (such as mine), who walked wide eyed into an ever changing array of distribution of product here in the states, has slowly taken a shadow to the newer generations, a younger, seemingly more into-it group than their predecessors. But this isn’t always good news and sunshine. No, if anything a shadow has been cast over this glorious fandom, and I think it comes right back TO us as fans when a finger must be pointed.
I’m not going to sit here and babble on about the legalities behind everything, about fan art and fan subs. I’ve done that enough in the previous weeks that I hope I have at least made a poignant enough stance on the subject, and I can pray that some of you have taken it to heart with an open mind and acceptance. And truthfully, if you have half a brain, you understand the difference between right and wrong. But I can say this.
The Anime fandom in America was started by fans, for fans. And as fans, it’s our job to keep it running if we truly appreciate it for what it is and want it to thrive.
I’m tired of the plethora of excuses from people. I don’t agree with the ‘poor college student’ motto. I’m a poor artist, yet I always find money for a movie or outing, or my husband can always, ALWAYS find money for a pack of smokes even in the direst of times when he has to dig for change. I’m sick of the ‘don’t have time’ excuse. I work two full time jobs plus support a ton of hobbies, including Warhammer 40k, my Belly Dance classes and performances, and my Anime obsession. We pay for what we enjoy, even when it's not the most responsible of choices. You all do it in your daily lives, too, I'd wager. Sure, we pay rent and the important things, but you know you're as guilty of it as I, sinking cash into a movie or night of mini golf, or even cover charge for a club or a convention that you can't really afford to be at that weekend... I could go on and on.
The point that I am trying to make is this. Think what you will of the situations at hand, but as fans, it’s our job to keep this industry afloat. The companies have seen and acknowledged our issues and complaints, and have fixed what, LEGALLY, they can. Some of them stream anime online for you to preview. Some of them send out special items and materials for you to take with you. Some of them are even putting extra episodes on DVD’s to meet demand on shows that have suffered legality setbacks. They know. They have answered, and are continuing to do so in every way that they can legally.
But it’s OUR job to buy the damned stuff! Put your money where your mouth is. Support the industry and what they do, or soon, we may not have an industry here to speak of. I’ve said in the past that I think Otaku as a whole here in America are wonderful people. I’ve watched them rally to help people suffering and in times of need, watched them do great things like volunteer and donate blood at conventions. I’ve watched over the years as they formed a new community, one that has every chance to shine as the wonderful people that they are. We are a great group of people! Let’s not send any other message out there to the masses.
Support the industry, guys, because only we can make it better at this point.
