
In my nearly three years of attending and tabling at comic conventions and festivals starting with MoCCA Arts Fest in 2022, I can ascertain that the experience is an enigmatic affair to describe as a neurodivergent person on the autism spectrum. Many of these events, often going on for 2-4 days, are crowded, noisy, and full of overstimulating displays from right to left that should be guaranteed sensory overload. For several people, it most certainly is and it would be in my case also without any schedule of sorts to fall back on. At the same time, I find these cons and fests to be exhilarating spaces to interact about my special interests with other creatively inclined individuals and fans who share my passion for comics and animation, which overshadows any overstimulating elements – even to the point of me not wanting the fun to end.
The particularities between neurodivergence and said experiences outside of my individualist perspective, however, did not become a point of active rumination until a few months ago when I attended Cartoon Crossroads Columbus (CXC), an annual four-day comics festival mainly taking place between the Billy Ireland Cartoon Library & Museum in the Ohio State University (OSU) and the Columbus Metropolitan Library in the downtown area featuring programming throughout located in other nearby venues. While MoCCA Fest and San Diego Comic-Con, for example, feature programming outside their primary locations, CXC was the first literary type of event that is spread out to that extent since the 2023 Brooklyn Book Festival. Upon an initial glance, this decentralized organizational model may seem like a confounding mess, but after familiarizing myself with the schedule and where everything was, it was a soothing breeze to navigate.

From my long time engaging and observing the online arts and fandom spaces, which share huge overlaps with the neurodiverse community, a major deterrent from going to cons is their overwhelming nature, something which is attributable to their inherently centralized structure. Large comic cons—think Comic-Con International, Reedpop, or Fan Expo shows, are normally located in a city convention center to account for their large attendance numbers. While this single location may suffice for a smaller to mid-sized con, once you get higher into the upper ten thousand to hundred thousand figures, it becomes increasingly difficult to contain the crowds as incidences such as Megacon overcrowding1 have shown (although, in all fairness, other factors came into play in that extreme case). There are cons that attempt to mitigate this issue by spreading out to adjacent buildings, a strategy that helps on a general safety level but ultimately disperses the noise to more areas within the vicinity. Sensory-friendly spaces such as lounge rooms exist, but, far too often, they are treated as a privilege or luxury one needs to earn to use it in the form of an exorbitant VIP badge or a Professional one. Meanwhile, conventions that don’t gatekeep these spaces, such as San Diego Comic-Con, may only have a single lounge, an unideal situation if you have to spend 10-15 minutes walking to get there.

Indie/alternative comix expos, including the likes of Small Press Expo (SPX), despite utilizing a similar centralized model, are better at accommodating sensory sensitivities due to comparatively lower attendance numbers and less of an emphasis on media-addled imagery hellbent on frying all the five (or possibly six) senses. If the space gets too packed and things go out of hand, it’s much easier for show staff to intervene to de-escalate matters. However, if the day ever comes when those indie shows’ attendance rates skyrocket to the level of even a mid-sized comic con, the accommodation problems that come with centralization will eventually show, which is where CXC’s unique organizational model will be relevant.
CXC’s first two and a half days are purely a comics appreciation affair composed of a series of panels, talks, and scholarly lectures throughout the Billy Ireland Museum and the neighboring Wexner Center for the Arts culminating in the Tom Spurgeon’s Awards reception/ceremony at the museum’s library and a subsequent afterparty in a downtown bar. This gives both attendees and vendors an equal opportunity to participate in the programming in a spread-out, easy-going environment. The only crowded and loud portions were the awards show and afterparty, which are held in the evening and night when most of the other programming ends.

The latter two days are when the main, convention-like aspects of the fest take place over the weekend at the Metropolitan Library on the second of the location’s three floors. According to CXC’s most recent annual report2, 13,203 people attended the festival in 2023. Under the conjecture that 2024 continued the upward trend experienced in the previous3 two years4 or a slight decline, you still likely have over 10,000 people coming in and out of a 175,000 square feet area. Since this is a public space, there’s only so much the show staff technically can do to curb the crowds on paper, so the show’s tabling layout efficiently spaces out the vending area rows to avoid congestion (to the additional benefit of immunocompromised people). Meanwhile, the special guests, who generally attract long lines, are dispersed in more spacious areas of the building within certain hours of the day for signings. In Bryan Lee O’Malley’s case, this meant placing his signing table on the first floor. While there is no official lounge room at CXC, most of the first and third floors are left alone for regular patrons to read and unwind.
Am I implying all comic conventions should switch to a decentralized model in order to accommodate neurodivergent participants? Not necessarily, as there are a myriad of factors germane to location and operating expenses that would make such a drastic decision impractical for most large, established cons like SDCC and NYCC (And yes, I am aware of Comic-Con International’s expiring contract5 with the San Diego Convention Center, but there’re a number of reasons why it wouldn’t move going beyond the scope of this essay). However, plenty of small to mid-size conventions can take notes from events like CXC for future reference. Doing so would make the con scene friendlier and less intimidating for neurodivergent fans which, in turn, benefits the convention organizers and artists who will see more sales. Not to mention, many creatives themselves are neurodivergent individuals who share the same grievances as fans. When their needs are better accommodated, then you additionally attract more people who are likelier to try or continue to exhibit at these shows.
- Gollon, C. (2023, April 4). MegaCon Attendees Describe Crowded, Potentially Dangerous Conditions. NewsDaytonaBeach. https://newsdaytonabeach.com/stories/megacon-attendees-describe-crowded-potentially-dangerous-conditions,38167 ↩︎
- CXC 2023 Annual Report. (n.d.). In https://cartooncrossroadscolumbus.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/Annual-Report-2023.pdf. ↩︎
- CXC 2021 Annual Report. (n.d.). https://cartooncrossroadscolumbus.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/AnnualReport-2021.pdf
↩︎ - CXC 2022 Annual Report. (n.d.). In https://cartooncrossroadscolumbus.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/Annual-Report-2022.pdf. ↩︎
- Lyles, T. (2024, July 11). Comic-Con Threatens to Leave San Diego After 2026 Over Hotel Price Gouging Issues – IGN. IGN. https://www.ign.com/articles/comic-con-may-leave-san-diego-after-2026-over-price-gouging-issues ↩︎
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