How Star Trek: Prodigy Helped Me Feel Seen as a Young Fan

I admit the entire reason I first went down the path of watching is because I am a completionist at heart and couldn't bear to have unfinished viewing business. In the previous months, the Star Trek franchise consumed my every waking moment. Once I knew I liked it, I knew I couldn't stop until I had finished the job.

While I fought through the raging storm of college admissions, these shows became something for me to fall back on. The steady thrum of the technobabble and phaser fire carried me throughout the highs and lows of the admissions process, my seemingly perennial illnesses, friendship chaos, and of course, it was a great way to just pass the time.

So, in April 2023, when I should have perhaps been more concerned with the imminent conclusion of my childhood, I was more distraught about the fact that I had somehow run out of Star Trek. I breezed through hundreds of hours of television in a matter of months thinking that the end goal would never come with almost 1000 hours of just television alone.

In an attempt to break out of my overly melodramatic languishing, I turned to Ryan Britt's Phasers On Stun!, which, tucked in the last chapter, are a few paragraphs about Star Trek: Prodigy – a show I had somehow yet to watch. Cue the imagery of me holding the book in my hands like it was the glowing briefcase from Pulp Fiction. To me, in that moment, it was BIG. Britt refers to the show as "the boxcar children of space," which is perhaps the exact phrase that caused the teen detective-loving cynic in me to finally give the show a try.

However, this is not to say that my first adventures with the Protostar were handled like the confident Dal R'El; they were much more akin to Gwyndala or 'Gwyn,' who came onto the scene entirely skeptical. I was growing cocky in my knowledge of a fictional future, worried that this show targeted audiences around the age of 6, and up would spoon-feed me the lore I had learned "the hard way."

Instead I found the characters and the crew I was so desperately reaching for in and beyond. A group of wildly different (and literally alien) characters shown throughout the universe — but ones that resembled me and acted like me — acting like the kids and teenagers they are. is that these kids are here to stay; they can't get swept under the rug as victims of the plot if they are the plot.

Growing up in the Star Trek franchise, I often came across characters that were certainly inspirational for my developing mind, but often not ones I could relate to in a way that mattered; they were not and would never be my peers despite how I might want to view them that way. So, as I made my personal trek through these fictional stars, I found that the characters I could relate to the most were the kids. Those who were scarcely present, and when they were, existed as mere tools of the adult-centric plot. And yet I continued to gravitate towards them and their respective arcs, grabbing at the little bits of myself I saw in the kids and teens throughout the cosmos.

I had grown up as an only child, and the youngest grandchild on both sides of my extended family. My life was not too dissimilar to that of Wesley Crusher or Naomi Wildman. Not their constant adventure or dealings with the Borg, of course, but rather that adults and authority figures were who I was solely surrounded by. And, in turn, they became the people I would seek out. (I was totally that kid who would rather stay in the classroom to chat with the teacher or read than go outside at recess, not that they would let me).

There was a certain point during my content binge where it became less about exploring strange new worlds and having fun adventure and more about covering my bases. Once I knew I liked Star Trek, I had this little voice in the back of my head urging me to continue. I had to know this universe like the back of my hand, or I'd risk being called a "fake fan." In retrospect, it was a ridiculous conclusion that might have had more to do with my anxieties of moving almost 700 miles away from home into the unknown than anything directly fandom-related. But now, I can tell you the Founding Species of the Federation (Humans, Vulcans, Andorians, and Terrarites), point out basically every reference in (one of my personal favorites is the return of Robert Duncan McNeill's Nick Locarno), and crush a round of trivia.

But Prodigy allowed me to slow things down, to remember why I undertook this 'mission' in the first place — to have fun and enjoy some incredible art. My personal media Prime Directive, you could say.

When I started Prodigy, I was about to graduate high school, unsure of how the following fall would go, and if I would find my place in higher education. While I might not have been outrunning The Diviner on a stolen Federation ship with a ragtag group of child misfits, it became a source of confidence. I too could (and have) made new friends and gone on sparkling adventures — despite not leaving the confines of Earth. For some viewers, from the more casual fan to those that also know every reference in Lower Decks, Prodigy might get overlooked because of the large "kid's show" sticker attached. I was very much in that boat and ended up having one of the most fun viewing experiences of my life.

Ironically, the place I was in life when I first discovered Star Trek: Prodigy is not too dissimilar from my current predicament. As I write this, I am again stranded in Western Massachusetts, this time for the summer, now working in my college's Admissions department as opposed to back in April 2023 when I was in the area for an accepted student's day for that very same institution unsure if I would ever be able to find a home here. A fun full circle moment, perhaps in more ways than one, as now I eagerly await the return of Prodigy.