#transformtech

[[This is the transcript for a talk I gave at the TRANSform Tech conference in San Francisco, CA on April 13, 2017]] Hi, I'm Ellen McGrody, author, mother of a very loud cat, and founder of Run for Our Rights, an annual charity event benefitting the Transgender Law Center. I wanna tell you about our first event in November, why I believe games and tech can be a positive space for social justice, and the challenges that can get in the way of progress in emergent spaces. The idea for Rights Run came about thanks to my desire to tap into the passion of an existing community and celebrate the anniversary of one of gaming's biggest mistakes. I've been a devoted games enthusiast since I was small. Like many queer kids, games provided me a space to escape and explore my identity. When I was five, my mom got a SEGA Genesis for the house, and from then on Sonic the Hedgehog became a lifelong obsession. I'm not alone in that obsession. Sonic has always had an extremely passionate core fan base, even when times got rough. If you're familiar with Sonic, you know that, over the years, SEGA's hedgehog mascot hasn't exactly received the best treatment. While the original titles that pulled many fans, including me, into the series are regarded as classics, many of the more recent titles in the franchise are infamous for their flaws. No title stands as a stronger example of this infamy than 2006's Sonic the Hedgehog, better known as Sonic 06. Sonic 06 is a... so, okay, let me explain to plot to you, briefly, to give you an idea. Dr. Eggman, the series' big bad, steals an artifact from a princess, and Sonic runs off to save her. Meanwhile, an entirely different superpowered hedgehog, who rides a motorcycle and is a secret agent for a shadow government, finds a separate artifact, which releases a demon, who steals the *first* artifact, unleashing an ancient fire deity and teleporting *both* hedgehogs into the future, where a *third* superpowered hedgehog, this one with psychic powers, blames Sonic for the apocalyptic future they are all now trapped in. Using yet another series of magical artifacts, the heroes travel back to the past, recover the original artifact, only for Sonic to be killed and then brought back by a kiss from the human princess, who has fallen in love with Sonic the Hedgehog. The three hedgehogs then unite to kill God. Don't ask, it's complicated. That, *extremely compelling*, story is marred further by load times, poor controls, and game-breaking glitches. So, as you can imagine, people totally love this game, and as some are compelled to watch a bad movie, I committed to marking the game's tenth anniversary by playing it in full, start to finish, until it was done. Which, in my original estimate, would take 19 hours to accomplish. Three friends offered to join me, and my wonderful fiancée made the suggestion of turning that live marathon into a charity event. Almost serendipitously, the games 10th anniversary aligned nicely with Trans Awareness Month, and so Run for Our Rights was born. Why turn a video game marathon into a trans advocacy event? The games space, as I mentioned previously, has rich potential for diversity and solidarity, given its ability to provide queer and trans youth with escapism and community. We drew inspiration from AGDQ and other charitable efforts in the space, and followed the example set by notable trans members of the games community including speedrunners Narcissa Wright and Protomagicalgirl, fighting game champion Ricki Sophie Ortiz, and games journalists Sam Riedel and Heather Alexandra. We tapped into the passion of the games community, particularly the excitement shared by Sonic the Hedgehog fans, in order to build an exciting event. Immediately, we wanted to work with the Transgender Law Center, and sought sponsorship in order to create a successful event. We worked with progressive games organizations, including Feminist Frequency, which advocates for positive representation of women and marginalized people in games and media, and MidBoss, whose LGBT-focused GaymerX convention has been held in the Bay Area four times while spawning international spin-off events. We also worked with the livestream platform Twitch to make sure the marathon could tap into as many viewers as possible, and we reached out to SEGA, where we received promotional support from the leader of Sonic's social media team and the franchise's voice actors. The event was more successful than we could even have imagined. We played Sonic games for 24 hours straight, capping off Sonic 06 as predicted at the 19 hour mark. In that time, thanks to the promotional work of our partners and positive reception by the games community, over 100,000 people watched us play a very terrible game, and received an outpouring of fan art and support, with many choosing to donate to support our efforts. All donations went directly to the Trans Law Center, and combining direct donations with employer matching, we earned nearly $20,000 for the TLC overnight. These successes were overwhelming. We *never* believed we could earn that sort of support. That first event happened just days after the election, and I was humbled to be able to provide that sort of positivity during a time of need. As we look into the future and begin planning our second event, I want to be open about the challenges that we faced. Gaming in general can be a really divisive space, especially for women, people of color, and LGBT folks. While games and the communities that love them are on a path to diversity, regressive forces have attacked those who have tried to make games more inclusive for everyone. Marginalized individuals have been harassed, threatened, and victimized by those who seek to maintain gaming's status as a violent boy's club. Some of you may have heard of GamerGate, a movement that under the alleged guise of "transparency in games journalism", attacked women and outed transgender people, eventually working to fuel the rise of what we now call the Alt Right. In running Rights Run, we were ever-present of this threat. We worked with our partners, particularly Feminist Frequency, to minimize risk factors. We called the local police department to abate the threat of "SWATting," or malicious false reporting of crime. We're thankful for our community, whose members took the role of community moderators, working to ban people who joined our chat room with the end goal of harassment in mind. Rights Run, and events like it, remind me how the games community, and tech as a whole, and work to benefit the causes of social justice, diversity, and inclusion. Like all avenues of our society, the challenges are great, and the forces that seek to silence our progress will stop at nothing in their attempt to hold us back. If there's any lesson I learned in making Rights Run happen, it's that making social justice happen in games and tech means being well-aware of the opposition and being prepared to confront them. Stay strong in your march to progress, and don't waiver in your support of marginalized people. And, be creative! Tap into peoples' passions, get them excited about advocacy, and play a really bad video game for 24 hours straight. Even with all of the challenges, you're going to find a core community that wants to join you in your fight for social justice.