In early high school, I used to write games in QuickBasic. I spent a significant amount of time making a beautiful (relatively speaking) animated logo splash for my little programming efforts. A red M and a blue S would enter at the top and bottom of the screen and join together, the logo for my imaginary “McSoft” software development company. Yes, “Mc” and “Soft”. Oh, how things change. Underneath the logo I placed a standard copyright line, with a capital C in parentheses. That’s what the real software companies did, and I had grand aspirations.
Much earlier in life, I would draw pictures with coloured pencils or crayons. Many of these artworks were adorned with a standard copyright line, a nice big C in a circle and the year in roman numerals. That’s what all the TV shows on ABC had, and I would always try to catch the roman numerals as they passed by in the credits, to see which year the programme was recorded. It often surprised me how many shows I liked that were produced in the 1960s. (I’d say I was born in the wrong era, but I’m far too digital for that.)
I’ve seen a lot of kids do this. We play grownup games to practice being grownups. (Doctors and Nurses was good for this too, though we generally didn’t realise we were practicing to be grownup gynaecologists.) Adults, through their actions in society in general, communicate more to children about how to be adults and members of our society than we really take credit for. I knew what copyright was at a young age. I knew that all the grownups did it. I knew that all the creative things I saw in the world, that I wanted to be a part of, had copyright. It meant “I have created something, it is my achievement, I’m a big kid now”.
So.
I have created something. It is my achievement. I’m a big kid now. And because big kids share lots of ideas with little kids, I’m going to tell the world that sharing is what I care about.
