We’ve officially completed our first week of KCC rehearsals and although my brain is a little melty, I just might be starting to get the hang of it.

I knew that learning Klingon would be challenging and take some time, but to be honest, I thought it was pretty easily within my reach. I studied Spanish from kindergarten through senior year of high school, I learned IPA in my BFA program at the University of Minnesota, Duluth and being a writer makes me kind of a word geek. I knew it might be tricky, but I had secret hopes that I could pick it up instantly and be terribly impressive.

In short, I was wrong. Desperately, profoundly, emphatically wrong.

While the language lessons kicked my butt in ways I didn’t previously know butts could be kicked, we were given a tremendous amount of support. Leading us in our Klingon education was our insanely patient and knowledgeable Klingon Language Expert, Jeremy Cowan (pictured below).

We were given a PowerPoint presentation, multiple dictionaries (one with all of the words in the script assembled by Jeremy himself), grammar handouts and three 3-hour lectures. I cannot express enough respect or gratitude for the help that Jeremy, our producer Ali and the entire cast provided throughout the week.

As a theatre artist, I’ve been somewhat coddled by spending time around people who all share a similar passion and knowledge surrounding that passion. I know the references, I get the jokes, and I can usually hold my own in green room conversations with fellow actors. I feel like a member of the community. This is the first time in a while that I’ve felt completely and entirely out of my element. If a ‘Chekov’ joke is made, my knowledge of theatre in late 1800’s Moscow probably doesn’t apply.

For example:

 (Writing practice sentences in front of the cast. Someone attempts to write the word “virtue” in Klingon spelling it “ ghobe’ ”)

Jeremy: So, what are you trying to write here?

Cast member: Virtue.

Jeremy: Close, but it’s actually spelled ghob’e’. You forgot the additional ‘ mark around the e, which actually changes it to another word. Does anyone know what the word ghobe’ means?

Entire room in unison: NO.

(Everyone bursts out laughing. I’m comforted knowing that I’m not the only one who didn’t know the answer)

Jeremy: Correct, the word ghobe’ means “no”.

(Resume failure)

While I might have been overwhelmed this week and still have plenty of practicing to do, I was able to learn basic pronunciations, grammatical structure and some Star Trek/Klingon history. We even learned some Klingon “epithets” and had an insult battle (pictured below).

In addition to these lessons, here are three helpful tips I picked up for the Klingon beginner:

1. Do not try to sneak bites of dinner in between practicing sentences aloud. No, not even a protein bar. You will spit it all over the actor next to you and it will be gross (Sorry, James).

2. When claiming that your mispronunciation of a word is a “character choice”, first ask yourself: “Am I Christopher Plummer?” If not, then perhaps reconsider.

3. Capital T’s and lowercase i’s, d’s and h’s are to Klingon, as crying is to baseball. (as observed by this year’s SQuja’)

As somewhat of an outsider to science fiction fandoms, I was a little worried that I might not be accepted into the community. This time I’m happy to say that I was once again wrong. Even if you don’t understand the Star Trek culture and couldn’t tell the difference between TNG or DS9 if your yIn depended on it, the passion and spirit with which KCC was created is enough to make anyone fall in love with it. Whether it’s a book, a movie, a band, a sports team or a TV show, we all look to something outside of ourselves to seek identity and community in an increasingly isolated world. The Star Trek fandom invites its members on adventures that transcend earthly limitations to illuminate our place in this world by exploring others. And whether you speak Klingon or not, I think it’s pretty easy to see what makes that wonderful.