Everyone who has played a video game remembers their first console. Mine was a Super Nintendo. My Mother got it for me as a Christmas gift, and my uncle hooked it up for me that night. After he left, the unhooked the machine, as it was taking up space in the living room. I never got to play it again. My mother wasn't very tech savvy, and I was too young to be trusted playing with wires behind the television. Once I was a little older, I realized it was easier than hooking up a VCR, but at that point I had graduated to my next console.
I wouldn't consider myself an avid gamer, although others probably would. When I was younger, my favorite games required a minimum of 30 hours to beat, and I enjoyed doing more than the minimum. I spent hundreds of hours playing these games, devoting my time to finishing the narrative and discovering all the secrets I could. It wasn't like I didn't have other commitments though. I took music lessons (the instruments changed throughout the years), rand track and cross country, and had a fairly active social life. I wasn't a recluse that spent all of his time in the dark basement eating frozen dinners and playing the latest and greatest game. I was a typical child.
Clearly playing games wasn't hurting me in any noticeable way, but was it benefiting me at all? What was the point of the hundreds of hours I devoted to virtual worlds? Was I simply wasting my life away in front of a Television? If you listen to my mother, then yes, I wasted too much of my life away staring at pixels flash on a screen. I (obviously) disagree, although I don't know if the befits are ones that can clearly be discerned.
There are clear and measurable advantages that I received from playing videogames. A lot of the games I played were very text heavy. Either the technology wasn't strong enough to support the size of the game AND dialogue, or the fact that companies simply didn't have the budgets they do now, I'll never know. What I do know, is that being forced to read hours of conversation greatly upped my reading level in a hurry. I was reading (and comprehending) books that most children my age were not. And while my writing skills never improved, my speaking skills definitely benefitted from my now larger vocablulary. As I solved puzzles, my problem solving skills developed. Every battle I encountered required me to run numbers, stats, and strategies, developing my analytical skills. Newer games required quick reaction times and improved eye hand coordination. Videogames were forcing my mental skills to sharpen and mature.
However, the largest benefits I received were ones that couldn't be measured. I was never interested in fighting games, or racing games, or even sports games. I always looked for a strong narrative. I wanted to immerse myself into a story in a way that books or film wouldn't allow. I was controlling the scenario, I was the one pushing the plot forward, I was...important. What I didn't realize at the time is how the games were actually affecting me. I never realized how my empathy was changing based on blips on a screen. You have to immerse yourself in the narrative, causing you to really care about the characters. I never noticed how my social skills were actually growing, contrary to popular belief. I still discuss videogames with my friends, and we often play them together. I never saw how how these narratives molded my understanding morality. You were the hero, and even when you made mistakes (and trust me, you would) you would do anything for the people you cared about.
All of these "unmeasureables" became evident during a playthrough of a little game called Mass Effect. This was one of the first games I played where your decisions actually changed the narrative one way or another. Every line of dialogue changed your reputation and relationship, and every major decision effected the entire universe. One of these decisions involved the genocide of an entire race, known as the Rachni (this is a space adventure, so please bear with me on any names or scenarios that may seem ridiculous or nonsensical). The Rachni were a race of bugs (think Starship Trooper) who were thought to have gone extinct after a huge war years prior. They were known for terrorizing the universe, and being all around bad people-bug-things. Apparently, some seedy lab had found and harvested an old Queen egg, and was now trying to create an army for hire. You, an enforcer of the law, soon come face to face with this Queen bug. She's in an enormous glass container, covered in green slime and tentacles. You look at her beady eyes, and prepare to press the failsafe "Kill the Bug with Acid" button that any reasonable lab would have. And then the unbelievable happens, she asks you for help. She never wanted a war, in fact she wasn't alive during the last one (neither were you for that matter). She just wants to go to some quiet corner of any random planet, and raise her children in peace. Not only is this an intelligent bug, but a pretty reasonable one at that.
What do you do? Pressing the button makes sense, and it's just some pixels on a screen. The people you work for would be outraged that you let her go, and the game may become much harder later because of it. Even so, I couldn't do it. I felt bad for a group of bugs. I saw the situation from the characters eyes, and I knew that I would regret the decision for the rest of my playthrough. The next day I discussed the situation with all of my friends who had played the game, and we had all come to a pretty similar conclusion on the matter. We each discussed the hows and why while we ate lunch, and how it was the right thing to do. Most of us had played the character as a morally sound person to that point, and it didn't make sense to for our specific character to commit genocide. I decided that for my next playthrough I would be a more morally ambiguous lawbringer, and kill the Queen for the good of everyone.
...And then I was at the button again. I had done some pretty questionable things up until that point, but nothing like killing an entire species. I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill her, even if she was just numbers on a disc. The Hero in a game wouldn't do that, and neither would my antihero.
Now I'm not saying video games molded me into the person I am today. I had wonderful parents, a great group of friends, and an all around supportive group of people surrounding me. What I am saying is that videogames had some influence on my life. The measurables gave me a little head start on my peers, but eventually everything evened out. It is the "unmeasurable" factors that I think were more important, and often overlooked. Everyone has things that has changed who they are as a person; a book they read, a story they hear, a movie they saw, or a song they heard. For me, a good portion of those things were games that I played, and the people I played them with. I think I'm a better person for it.
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