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Last weekend (June 21 and 22), I attended a Maker Faire in Paris as part of my thesis research on maker communities. Maker Faires are physical sites where makers--anyone who creates physical things--of all types come together to showcase what they have made, and to share technical knowledge with other makers and broader publics. These events emphasize learning how to make through play and other tangible interactions with tools, technologies, techniques, and people. Of course, learning through play can be challenging when the game is played in a language you don't understand.
As I discovered upon arrival, not quite everyone at the Maker Faire spoke English. I had been nervous about the potential language barrier (see tweet below), but had the privilege of assuming that most people would speak some English.
@jtsherri welcome on board ! Don't be nervous : we all speak english (why not use an arduino to de-code french ? #translate-hacking )
— Maker Faire Paris (@MakerFaireParis) April 25, 2014
While most of the makers who attended did make humbling efforts to accommodate my lack of spoken French literacy (for which I am extremely thankful), I was almost kicked out of the faire within 10 minutes of entering. Upon arrival, I had purchased a ticket as the Paris Maker Faire website had instructed, received my map of the faire, and was wished a good visit. Just after taking some pictures of the Make robot, a security guard started assertively directing me in French. I understood something about "no entrance... security" as he pointed toward my wrists. Meanwhile, I wondered "Wtf is going on?" I showed the guard my ticket, while pointing toward the table where I bought it only minutes before, fruitlessly trying to explain my situation in English. "No speak English" was the guard's response. He radioed something in French and shouted across the hall to another guard, trying to get the attention of someone in power who would understand my garbled nonsense. I continued holding up my ticket and pointing, as we repeated the same conversation, eventually walking down to the ticket table. Apparently, I had needed an all-important wristband to enable my physical access to the faire. Fortunately, it was as simple as showing my ticket and holding out my arm.With my new blue wristband equipped, I strode past the guard, taking a moment to feel smug, and then I recognized that all the signs at the faire were in French. Unintimidated by my lack of written French literacy, I assumed the first maker I talked to might speak eloquent and effortless English. Not so much. We didn't make it past "bonjour." Next table, same process. By that point, I was feeling that my power-granting wristband wasn't so powerful afterall, and that maybe I had made a huge mistake by planning my entire day around an event where I couldn't even communicate. "Maybe I should leave. I'll take a walk around and see what's here, take a picture of everything, and then leave; go explore Paris, see the Eiffel Tower, maybe. I could take a bus if I leave now..."
"No. You came here for research, and that's what you're going to do. Enjoyable or not, you're here, John. And you're not giving up yet."
"Maybe I can just walk around and not talk to anybody for a while. That will be easier. That will feel safer. Maybe I got more out of the Cincinnati Mini Maker Faire than I will from this one."
"If it's challenging your spirits, and what you know, do it, even when it's hard. You came because you wanted this. It's a game, and you're new here. You're supposed to be bad at this for the first level. That's how research happens. Why are you feeling uncomfortable? What about this situation is making me feel this way?"
I decided to walk the faire for a while and see what caught my eye. I snapped a few photos, and then found a giant 3D printer printing chairs. The printer by Drawn was something I could understand easily, and sitting in a 3D printed chair was pretty cool. That alone gave me the confidence to roam around and explore a bit further.
While there were many exciting sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and textures at the Maker Faire, I quickly understood that within international maker communities, it's relatively easy to learn the mechanics behind a machine or the process behind making an object. For example, I successfully soldered a Make robot pin with LED eyes, despite having instructions written in French, a few notes in English, the ability to watch people around me, and no experience of soldering things together rather than de-soldering. Granted, it took me three tries to get it right, but I managed, and could explain the process to someone else. However, the nuances of the instructions were lost. The how and why explanations too. The same could be said for building almost anything.
In a post-industrial economy, in which a critical mass of makers have access to fundamental components and tools, nuances of how and why explanations behind designs become very important. For example, the primary distinction between trains in the U.K. and trains in the U.S.A. is not the technology of the train itself. Rail companies in countries around the world can purchase the same electric locomotive, the same rails, the same equipment and essential components. What separates them are the configurations of those components, as well as the fit of those configurations to different contexts. The trains here in Scotland run very quietly, and there is little difference in volume between riding in an open field or riding through a tunnel. In Chicago, on the other hand, the distinctively deafening roar of a train rushing through a tunnel is part of what defines that particular line. If one were to attempt the same configuration in Chicago, users might resist and find it ill-fitting. Thus, there is a significant rhetorical component to post-industrial configurations of technology.
And although there were many interesting things I learned from my journey to Paris, and some unforgettable experiences, the most surprising outcome was how visiting Paris and the Maker Faire changed my perspective on Dundee. What only a week ago seemed unfamiliar, with foreign accents and winding roads, now feels comforting; homely even, compared with Paris. Here, at least I can ask for a burger without wondering whether anyone will understand my request. The configurations of the systems may be different here than in the U.S., but I can communicate about both the components and the rationale behind the configurations.