RC Muñoz’s autograph post. Ticketing battles won or lost. Barricade flexes and seated preferences. Again and again, fandom conversations circle back to this: personal joy versus collective care.
On the surface, fandom looks like a string of individual stories: I got lucky, I persevered with my iPhone 16, I saved for years. Social media magnifies this focus on the self, rewarding posts that showcase proximity or possessions. Hyperindividualism at its finest at a time of war, division and uncertainty. It is no surprise that the prevailing mindset becomes: “I’ll celebrate my way, and that’s enough.” It does not help that in a capitalist consumer culture, fandom is too easily reduced to what we buy, what we hold, what we can show.
The artists we stan becomes COMMODITY.
But fandom is not only personal. It is also communal. Lighting the MOA Globe purple, singing in unison at concerts, streaming in circles, organizing cupsleeves events and watch parties. These are not solitary acts; they are rituals of community and belonging. And as Clifford Geertz (1973) reminds us, rituals are texts we interpret. To do a “thick description” of fandom* is to see beyond the surface gesture and into the layered meanings: a light on a globe is not just electricity, it is longing, belonging, a collective claim to space. A cupsleeve is not just paper, it is memory shared over coffee, proof that ARMY is plural.
So why does individualism still prevail? Because it is the language capitalism teaches us. Because “celebrate your way” is easier than asking “who gets left out?” Because envy is deflected by shrinking fandom into personal coping, rather than expanding it into communal and relational accountability.
The challenge is not to erase personal joy, RC’s happiness is hers, barricade victories are theirs. The challenge is to keep joy mindful. Joy is sacred. And in fandom where fangirls are prejudiced, A WOMAN’S JOY IS SACRED. To celebrate with gentleness, knowing others were scammed, excluded, unlucky. To remember that purple is not just a personal color, but a shared one. These all point to connection and community despite individual differences.
Maybe ARMY’s work is to resist fandom being flattened into “me” and recover the “we.” To thicken our descriptions of what it means to be fans not just as consumers, but as companions, co-creators, caretakers. BTS has always reminded us that we never walk alone. That they are more than idols, artists and products of an industry. They are people. And in their art and music, we find humanity. BTS never sang alone, and neither should we.
Apobangpo. Purple and true.
* Geertz defines thick description as a method of interpreting culture by attending not only to observed behavior but also to the context and meaning behind it, like “sorting out the structures of signification” through which people make their actions meaningful (The Interpretation of Cultures, 1973, p. 6).
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