When I was younger (around 10 or so), a lot of console and PC games didn't let you choose an avatar or character to play as. Some did, however -- and these were usually the multiplayer type, where having players choose an avatar served a practical purpose of differentiating between them in-game. In games like this, I had a strong tendency to pick female characters. When Goldeneye was first released for the Nintendo 64, I habitually played as the character Xenia. When I got to play Jedi Knight at a friend's house, I usually picked the Dark Jedi Sariss.
I never really knew why I was doing this -- and I didn't see it as wrong or strange, until I was told otherwise. On a few occasions, I was chided for my choices. Why was I playing as a girl? From the least judgemental, this question was more or less an open inquiry. Still, that it could be asked at all made me uncomfortable -- it made me aware that I was doing something out of the ordinary, maybe even something bad. Coming from those acting in less than good faith, the question came through as a mixture of disbelief and disgust. I don't recall accusations of gayness coming alongside -- that particular form of gender policing didn't arrive until a few years later.
By the time the spiritual successor to Goldeneye -- Perfect Dark -- was released in 2000, things had changed. I remember playing as male characters almost exclusively, a change that began in Goldeneye when I traded in my previous choice for the uniformed General Arkady Ourumov. I learned that playing as female characters invited questions and harassment that I didn't want to deal with, and that playing a male character meant that all of this would go away.
It seemed really easy. After all, it was such a small thing -- hardly worth being hassled over. Besides, I never really knew why I was so attached to the idea in the first place. Better to just play the way that others wanted me to.
I got started thinking about all this the other day when I purchased Phantasy Star Zero, and almost without thinking created a female character. When I realized what I'd done, memories started coming back to me. Had I gotten over the injunction to not do this? I'm not so sure. Certainly, it seems unlikely that I'll be playing that particular game with anyone I know personally. If I were, would I feel as comfortable playing a woman, or would I just take the easier route of avoidance by having a male character available as well?
This raises a tricky point: I'm hesitant to impose my current theoretical thinking on that ten-year-old boy who wasn't sure why he was doing what he was doing, or why it might be wrong. I can think now about why I might choose a female avatar in some cases but not others: I can compare my situation to the complexities of gender in online RPGs, for instance. I can think about gender presentation, expression, and interaction. But I'm wary of looking back on my own life and smoothing the past into any coherent narrative that somehow leads to the present state.
*There are other stories to be told, here: for instance, how the same boys who policed gender boundaries so dutifully then turned around and played female characters in pen-and-paper RPGs -- and asked the DM to narrate and describe sexual encounters between their female character and another male player's male character.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
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Hey Matt,
ReplyDeleteSince I'm a male playing a female character in an RPG that you're familiar with, I thought I'd chime in. It never occured to me to play a female character in an RPG until relatively recently in my gaming experience. A mutual male friend played a female character in a game I was running and did so without comment from other players, and in an entertaining and convincing way. It seemed like a fun role to explore.
In my case, some of this also has to do with becoming the father of a daughter. Exploring strong, independent female characters seems radical to my mid-40's sensibilities. But to younger gamers, it's not such a big deal. My main avatar in the video game Rock Band is female, sort of a caricature of my wife (someone I admire for her idependence and charisma.)
The bottom line for me is that playing a role or selecting an avatar is a chance to imagine myself as someone I'd like to be (usually someone I'd admire.) This character or avatar, like all of us, faces some obstacles. When I overcome the obstacles in the game, the character succeeds, and the reason for my admiration is confirmed.
I come from a family with a history of independent and competent women. They built houses, climbed mountains, and explored distant countries. Those things seem natural to me. I'm surprised when I meet people that find that stuff unusual, or that react to it negatively. Playing a female character in a game is, for me, a way to help make that idea natural for everyone. Why shouldn't women build houses, climb mountains, play rocking guitar solos, or decapitate hordes of orcs?
I have a friend in my gaming group who plays women about half the time. I've seen a few people get really frustrated over that, but I think he handles it really well. The approach he takes is basically, [i]the gender of my character is no big deal unless you make it a big deal. Why is it a big deal to you?[/i].
ReplyDeleteI like it. For one thing, I am often the only girl in the group, and it prevents my characters from being the tolken female.
Hey Keith,
ReplyDeleteThanks for this thoughtful reply. I wonder whether younger gamers are truly as open to the idea as we might think or hope, though. Like Sabriel's example shows, for some gamers it's no big deal -- but I think it might still be for many.
Obviously some of that is just general maturity of the group, but I think partly it also speaks to the way gender plays out in the dominant gamer culture.