Self-Dissection Through My Obsession with LEGO
/The following post was created as part of the assigned work for Henry Jenkins's PhD seminar, Public Intellectuals. The goal of the class is to help communication and media studies students to develop the skills and conceptual framework necessary to do more public-facing work. They learn how to write op-eds, blog posts, interviews, podcasts, and dialogic writing and consider examples of contemporary and historic public intellectuals from around the world. The definition of public intellectuals goes beyond a celebrity-focus approach to think about all of the work which gets done to engage publics -- at all scales -- with scholarship and critiques concerning the media, politics, and everyday life. Our assumption is that most scholars and many nonscholars do work which informs the public sphere, whether it is speaking on national television or to a local PTA meeting.
I have a clear understanding of myself. I am not someone who has the willpower to persevere in doing something. My endurance is poor: when I was in the 800-meter race in middle school, I was among the front-runners in the first lap but always fell behind from the second. Once I lose interest or enthusiasm in something, I cannot persist through will power.I am interested in many things, but these interests often fade quickly. Therefore, when others ask me what my hobbiesare, I am embarrassed to mention those hobbies that I lose interest in after only a few minutes. I feel that the time andeffort I put into them, as well as my level of proficiency, do not qualify me to claim them as my hobbies. If I keep doing something for years, the only motivation toward it is my passion. Thus, I prefer not to use the word “persist” to describe my behaviors.
As for the question of what my hobbies are, one answer is certain: LEGO. I am very sure that LEGO is my favorite, and my passion for it has never diminished. LEGO is not cheap, but compared to other things with the same price, I would not hesitate to spend the money on LEGO. The time I enjoy most when I’m home alone is when I’m sitting on the floor in front of my sofa with my back leaning on it and assembling LEGO on the tea table. At the same time, random variety shows on TV provide some background noise for this entertainment space. I’m completely immersed in this space and don’t allow anyone or anything else to disturb me. I silence my phone and put it aside. I fully focus on the bricks. They give me a chance to take a break from the chaos and pressure of daily life. I imagine myself as the LEGO Minifigure in that world. I even use “spiritual lego Mini figure” as my nickname in video games.
At first, my love for LEGO was an intuition. Later I started to think about it with rationality. I suspect one of the basic logics behind my love for LEGO is my obsession with miniature versions of common items.
I can’t remember when I started to be obsessed with all kinds of tiny things as a kid. In my sentimental memories, I see myself repeatedly being attracted by the sand table models at real estate sales offices while my parents were having aconversation between adults with the salesmen. My dad always made the joke: “Doudou (my nickname) loved visitinghouses,” implying that I was interested in expensive shopping. I used to believe the joke was right, but then I realized it was only half true.
I loved sand tables: I loved to see the full view of the communities on the sand table when the buildings were being constructed in the real site; I loved to see cars and people standing still on the sand table and moving in my mind; Iloved to turn on and turn off the light button to see the color of warm orange filling up every room in the buildings, imaging the tiny people lived for real. However, the in-person room tour never appealed to me as the sand table did. Atthat time, I was too young to notice that I had no interest in bringing my imagination of the sand table life into real life and too young to figure out why. I believed my interest lay in the desire of buying a house.
When I was older, middle and high school age, I didn’t have much time to hang out at the sales office. I gradually forgot my obsession with the sand table model of real estate (I didn’t realize the difference between them at that time), until one day when my high school set up a sand table model of the campus. Looking at the miniature of the surroundings that I knew like the back of my hand, a similar feeling to that as I stood aside at the sand table in a real estate sales office suddenly arose. Overlooking the campus I commuted to and from every day from a high perspective brought me a sense of peace and comfort. I was capable of “walking” through the entire campus in a second with only a glance. At that moment, I could not be more certain of my obsession with miniatures.
Lately, I’ve found that Johan Huizinga’s concept of “free play” could partially explain my obsession with LEGO and miniatures. “Free play” suggests escapism, viewing play as a free activity standing outside ordinary life and serving as an alternative to social life’s serious duties and obligations. As a result of being outside ordinary life, Huizinga also believes that play is connected with no material interest and no profit can be gained from it. “Free play” suggests a rigid distinction between real life and the game, forming a “magic circle” to protect the temporary, limited perfection as an alternative to the imperfect reality. In the LEGO world built with bricks, the sense of weakness in real life is minimized to the greatest extent. Due to the huge difference in volume, I have supreme control and power in the miniature world. For the simplest example, it might take me three hours to clean up my 750 square foot apartment, but cleaning a whole LEGO house only requires me to wipe it with a cloth a few times. In reality, I lack the strength to push my sofa, but in the LEGO world, I can even install it on the roof.
As an alternative to real life, it’s essential for the play world to be separated from reality to protect its fantasy. Similarly, sometimes people are attracted by movie scenes and plots, imagining themselves as the characters, even if the characters are confronting difficulties or experiencing a dramatic life. The reason for this situation is they clearly know that they are not and will not truly be in the scenes.Thus, what they see is only the structural aesthetics of cinematic arts. It is the same logic as why I never bring my imagination of miniature models into real life. Trifles and troubles in reality will ruin the charm of the play world. It is fascinating because it is fictional.
Separation does not mean disconnection. For me, if there was no connection between the play world and reality, the appeal would be located nowhere. This is why I like LEGO and miniature models that imitate real-life scenes. The play world as an alternative to real life has dual meanings. It provides more possibilities than real life; thus, it has to be based on real life to expand upon these possibilities. It can neither be completely detached from reality nor duplicate reality.
However, personal freedom, another essential aspect promised by the “magic circle” for unlimited interaction and self-expression, is not applicable to my situation. I only purchase LEGO sets by theme: he Creator Expert collections, which includes sets of the most famous building in the world like the Taj Mahal, Sydney Opera House, Big Ben, etc, and setsbased on franchises like The Simpsons, Pirates of the Caribbean, Harry Potter, etc. are my favorites. I’ve never purchased the Classic collections which come without instructions to encourage open-ended building play and inspire any imagination. In some cases, freedom means having more control over life. Yet, freedom without a boundary means chaos to me. I need someone else to provide me with a graspable guide—in the LEGO world, it is the handbook of building instructions that provides me with a sense of order. If I were given unlimited freedom, my perfectionism would trigger my anxiety. In the process of organizing random bricks, I cannot control my intention to pursue perfection, but I do not believe I have the ability to achieve it. Under such pressure, I find it difficult to begin the creative process, since I’ve already assumed that I’m unlikely to meet myexpectations. What is even worse is that I don’t know where my expectation lies. I only know it is way too high for me to reach it. In contrast, pre-designed sets give me a sense of security because I’m informed what the final product will be in advance so that I have a certain range to select from.
By analyzing my obsession with LEGO, I realize that I still lack self-discipline, as usual. It’s hard for me to make any decision at the start-up stage. I may be overwhelmed by too many choices and be too concerned to move forward. Therefore, I need an external force to control the range of choices to guide me forward. Overall, a leader isessential for me to develop my career. I am not suited for self-leadership.
Biography
Jun (Willow) Wang is a 2nd year graduate student in the dual degree program in MA in Global Communication at USC Annenberg School of Communication and Journalism and MSc in Global Media and Communications at LSE. She earned her dual bachelor’s degree in Communication from China Agricultural University and University of Colorado Denver. Her research interests include gender studies, queer theory, pop culture, subculture, and neoliberalism.