I’m a white, male gamer. And I’m standing up.
I try not to take sides on the internet. As much as I love all that it makes possible—including my work—it can be such a terrible platform for discussing important issues. The tonal and facial cues that make real dialogue possible are stripped away, which, more often than not, simply lead to flame wars and intractability. Yet there are times when I simply need to get on my soapbox and take a stand, because it’s that important. All the more as I’ve become the de facto face of Catalyst Game Labs due to my social media work over the last several years.
I’ve been gaming for thirty-four years; attending cons for twenty-eight years; and working in the industry for twenty years. Beyond my family and my faith, this hobby is my life’s passion. A nerd, a geek, a gamer: I fit into it all and embrace it with wild, public abandon. I’ve met almost every last one of my friends through gaming—including my wife—many of whom I still talk with each month. Not to mention the endless, fantastic people of our community I constantly interact with day-to-day through that social media. It’s hard to even articulate the phenomenal joy this hobby has brought Tara and I (and now my kids as well, as they’ve grown up enmeshed in all of it as well).
So it always pains me when I see this community I love hurting anyone. Cuts me to the bone.
I came across an article over the weekend telling the story of numerous horrifying, painful experiences in a hobby that should have brought the writer as much joy as it does me. And yet there is a vile, vicious pollution whose currents churn our hobby’s underbelly.
(I’m not linking to the article because this isn’t about a single person, but about the numerous posts and articles I’ve read over the years…about the conversations I’ve had…about everyone who gets marginalized.)
I’ll admit that I almost never see such things, so out of sight, out of mind (doesn’t make it right and I’m ashamed of it, but that’s how it’s been in the past). I’ve been exceptionally blessed across those thirty-four years to game with literally hundreds (perhaps even thousands at this point) and it simply doesn’t happen around me. Yet a few times a year I hear or read about it, as is the case of the article I read over the weekend. And of course, in those instance, I’ll re-tweet or post a short comment to spread awareness (did that to some uproar almost a year ago).
Yet this time felt different. It tore at me with a far greater impact than previously. I certainly wish all instances of hearing about these things would pummel at me with such force, but it hasn’t been the case. After a retweet, I usually let it go. So what made this case different? Especially as there’s another, powerfully insidious force at work here.
I’ve seen it happen before and I watched it unfold regarding this article now. “That seems exaggerated.” Such an innocent remark. Especially taken against the context that you do need to be very careful about what you read on the internet. (When I’m checking news sites, even on some of the most trusted sites on the planet I’ll often go to multiple sites to verify events). The problem, as I see it, is that “that seems exaggerated” can lead to “I think the author lied about some of that” to “how can I believe any of it if some of it is a lie?” And taken in the context of “I never see that,” the slippery slope of dismissal has reached the bottom of the hill and the author is either viciously attacked for “compromising her situation,” if not outright lying or perhaps even worse, simply ignored.
Even I’ve felt those tendrils burrowing through my empathy, hollowing out my capacity to believe.
So then I’ve wound back to the question bugging me, especially given the possibilities that its all exaggerated: why have I felt compelled to draft up a giant post and make a public stand? Because of another experience a few months ago.
A woman in the industry that I’ve gotten to know and respect over the last year had just returned from a convention; a con I’ve attended and immensely enjoyed several times. And during a conversation discussing that con, she matter-of-factly tossed out numerous instances of sexual harassment across just the few days of attendance: ugly and incredibly brazen, right out in front of people. Now in each case, she backed the guy off with strength and some choice words; she certainly wasn’t looking to anyone for help, as she can take care of herself. But it was—for me—the stunning juxtaposition of how much she enjoyed the con (and will keep attending)…and oh, yeah, the usual sexual harassment.
Think about that for a moment. “The…usual…sexual…harassment.” I’ve attended well over a hundred conventions all over the world. And I can recall maybe one or two instances of being uncomfortable in all those years. And yet she keeps going to cons year after year with “the…usual…sexual…harassment.” Just like the woman in that article…just like so many women….
All of that made it personal. Exceptionally personal. After all, this wasn’t an anonymous person on the “oh be careful what you read” internet. This was a co-worker. This is someone who in a very short period of time I knew that if she said this happened, then that’s it. No discussion. It happened.
So when I read this latest painful treatise, it wasn’t some abstract: it was this woman I’ve grown to respect; it was all the amazing women who bring so much to our hobby and have to swim through cesspools to do so—Jill Lucas, president of FASA when I started and the best boss I’ve ever known; Sharon Turner-Mulvihill, whom I’ve worked with across numerous companies and who edited all my novels; our amazing demo agents, such as Tina Vo and Amanda Mitro who make attending Gen Con so enjoyable; other industry professionals whose work I respect and enjoy, such as Lisa Stevens, the CEO of Paizo, or the award-winning author Jennifer Brozek, or the award-winning game designer Monica Valentinelli…the list goes on and on.
It was the thought that my daughter is just about at the age where we let my son start to roam the large conventions by himself…and if I let her off the leash, is someone going to grope her; going to snidely joke “old enough to bleed, old enough to breed”; or corner her in an elevator for something even worse…. I have to make the choice of treating her differently than I did my son versus opening her to those deep currents, to be slopped by filth?
In the end, even if the article is exaggerated—even if numerous articles and situations are exaggerated—that is irrelevant to me. Even one instance is unacceptable.
Do I think my words will make it so? No, unfortunately I don’t. Nor am I some white knight come to provide protection. After all, there’s strength there that dwarfs my own; not sure I’d be willing to keep attending cons if I had to deal with the cesspools at every step.
Instead, by standing up perhaps a few men who uncomfortably looked the other way or stayed quiet when the vile jokes fly might find the courage to stand up as well. And perhaps just an ounce of support might be found when a woman reads this and knows there are men who’ve long worked in this industry that will stand up and publicly shout down such crap from the rooftops. And even if none of that happens, it’s still the right thing to do.
I’ve certainly not been perfect. I can look back across a lifetime of con attendance and gaming and cringe now and then at stupid comments I’ve made. And for that, I publicly apologize to any woman who ever felt as though I didn’t respected her, or made her feel as though she is less valuable as she is to our hobby, community, and industry.
And perhaps for that very same sense, there are men who feel ashamed to stand up. Well shake it off. Do the right thing. Stand up. This will only change if we shine a bright enough light down into those repugnant currents. If we get enough people saying this is not okay we just might push those currents down where they’re too afraid to come out any more.
Now let me be absolutely clear, here: Harassment or bullying of any sort against anyone for any reason—be it gender, race, religion, you name it—is not okay. And if I hear anyone around me gatekeeping with that tired old mantra “you’re not a real gamer,” I’m gonna slap that down. Catalyst employees know this and swiftly take care of any such situations. (If anyone has ever had any issues that were not treated appropriately by one of our employees or Catalyst agents, feel free to email me [email protected] and I’ll immediately follow up). So this filth laps onto far too many. But it seems pretty clear to me over the research I’ve done that women, by a large margin, take the brunt of this hurt.
For anyone that feels even a moment’s regret over any of this, or experiences they’ve had, please spread this post. Plenty of others are doing the same and doing it well. But we need to do it more. I’m adding my voice to theirs to swell the chorus and shine a light on those currents.
And for all those amazing gamers that make the hobby brilliant for millions of people all over the world, thank you!
I’m a white, male gamer. And I’m standing up.
[Posted with permission of Heather Coleman, Catalyst Game Labs Owner]