[TEXT: STORY ADAPTED FROM TUMBLR.
LINK IN THE DOOBLY-DOO.]
In the fall of 2010 I discovered my first YouTuber, and it wasn’t the Vlogbrothers.
It was Charlie McDonnell, this young, funny, creative 19 year old who made weekly videos
ranging from juggling to Doctor Who to playing the ukulele.
I didn’t know he was the UK’s most subscribed YouTuber at the time.
I didn’t even know that YouTube culture was a thing.
I just knew that he made videos that kept me entertained.
When I started watching Charlie, I’d scroll down to the comments section to see what people
had to say.
Unfortunately, they were all the same: nothing about the content and all about how Charlie
was cute, total boyfriend material.
I was older than Charlie’s demographic, and I didn’t feel connected to his audience.
So whenever Charlie made a new video, I’d click on it, increase the video to full screen,
and completely ignore the comments section.
Fast forward to April 2011.
I had been watching Charlie for months, but he was still the only YouTuber I watched.
Until he made a video called “Thoughts from Home.”
It was completely different to the jump-cut, talk to the camera, funny vlog I’d come
to expect from him.
Instead of filming his face, he featured shots of his hometown while telling his story, full
of nostalgia and introspection.
I was really intrigued by this format of storytelling, and as I scrolled down to the description
I saw that Charlie had cited the Vlogbrothers as his inspiration.
On the side of Charlie’s video were related videos, and one of them was by the Vlogbrothers.
I decided to click on it.
For the first time, I listened to John as he shared his thoughts from places, weaving
these beautiful and moving words together in a way that left me speechless.
I had never seen any video like this before, and I wondered if all Vlogbrothers videos
were this deep.
I clicked on their channel to watch their newest video.
And do you know what it was?
[VIDEO: HUMPY HANK]
This was my introduction to Hank.
He was quirky, and I was fascinated.
And I figured that any channel that could balance deep and reflective with fun and quirky
was a channel worth subscribing to.
Before watching the Vlogbrothers, I’d only viewed YouTube comments as a cesspool of negativity
and bigotry.
John and Hank helped me see that the comments could be a place where productive conversations
were held.
For the first six months that I watched the Vlogbrothers, I did so in the same way I watched
Charlie’s videos: I’d click on the video, increase it to full size, and completely ignore
the comments section.
It wasn’t until I was watching an old Vlogbrothers video that John said something that made me
give the comments section another chance.
In the video, John said something like, “My favorite thing about this YouTube experience
isn’t what goes on in here…
It’s what goes on down there!”
That made me curious.
So I exited out of full screen, scrolled down to the comments, and saw that people were
actually talking about the content of the video.
Calmly, kindly, and even humorously.
The next time a new Vlogbrothers video appeared in my sub box, I clicked on it, watched it,
and found the courage to make a comment.
And people responded to it.
They were warm and funny, and it was so clear how much they wanted to make me feel welcome
in this community.
That was the first time I felt like I could call myself a Nerdfighter.
I’ve now been a part of Nerdfighteria for five years, and through this community I’ve
found people who challenge me to view the world from different perspectives, explore
my creativity, and treat others as complex human beings.
I’ve made friends with people all over the world, people who understand what it means
to be unironically enthusiastic, people who understand that the truth resists simplicity,
people who understand what it means to unite as a community to make the world better.
I’m grateful to John and Hank for creating a special home for us on Internet, and I’m
grateful to the Nerdfighters I’ve met, both online and in real life.
You make me want to be better, to do better.
Thank you for remembering to be awesome.