Beware of Pedobears! - the Exploration of Self through RPGs

We often hear the news warning us about the dangers of meeting people online: “Don’t give out your personal information and don’t be too quick to befriend PumpkinPrincessXOXO, because you don’t know her real identity.  She could be a 54-year old pedophile.”  Sadly, the news it right - this does happen.  There have been countless news accounts of old men posing as friendly 13-year old girls to gain the trust of an insecure teenager.  

However, not all PumpkinPrincessXOXO’s are Pedobears.  Some of them are really just kids, looking for a companion and place to explore their identities.  No, I’m not just saying this because it sounds like something cliche that I can blog about.  I’m speaking from personal experience.  

When I was in grade 8, I played a MUD called The Legends of Kallisti.  I’m not talking about the kind of mud that you roll around in and make mud pies with.  MUD is an acronym for Multi-User Dungeon, a text-based RPG that connects you with users all around the world.  Think World of Warcraft, but without pictures (too bad it can’t be exempt of the Leroy Jenkins of the world, too).  Everything is text-based - to visualize a room, you need to read the room descriptions; to move your character into another room, you need to type n, s, e, w; to attack a MOB (mobile object), you need to enter commands such as “smite goblin”. 

I’m not going to lie - when I was in playing Kallisti, I didn’t think that any Pedobears would be interested in me, but I still took precautions.  For example, when I first met Joshuawatwo, he asked me what my real name was.  I told him it was Jacey.  I had light-brown hair and hazel-green eyes.  This was the perfect time for me to change my identity.  I was no longer Bonnie, the awkward little Chinese girl with a plain name and plain eyes.  I could finally be Caucasian - the ethnicity that I always wanted to be but could never become.  I kept up this new identity until I met some more people and felt bad about lying.  I didn’t think they were lying to me, so I gave up this new identity.  Luckily for me, none of them turned out to be Pedobears. 

My point is, with Pedobears or without, the Internet is a place for experimentation.  As a socially awkward kid, playing Kallisti opened up my mind to the world around me.  It was through the Internet, that I got my first “kiss”.  It’s not quite the same as a real first kiss, but to my 13-year old mind, it was pretty awesome to feel loved and wanted by someone else, even if he lived in another country.  I even attended a good friend’s wedding in Kallisti - the only one I’ve been to in my entire life - and it was absolutely magical.  You could even “do the nasty” with someone.  Explicit stuff, I know, but we all have to learn about the birds and the bees in some way, right?  

Kallisti also took me out of my shell.  I was a shy, sheltered, socially awkward kid (alliteration FTW!).  After meeting a few new people, I was comfortable sharing stories and jokes with them.  I didn’t have to worry about not wearing the right clothes or if there was any food stuck between my teeth.  They couldn’t see me through the screen.  I could even go a few days without bathing if I wanted to, and they would be none the wiser!  (Not that I did that, of course.  That’s gross and unhygienic.  Just saying.)  Kallisti exposed me to different kinds of people: rude, annoying, incompetent, idiotic, immature... and I dealt with all that so I could get my experience points and necromancer’s staff.  I also met a few people who I’m proud to say are still my friends to this day.  

Sometimes, I would entertain myself by letting myself think about what would happen if I had known some of these people in real life.  Would they think I was awkward and uncool?  How far from my true self have I deviated?  Who is my “true self”?  I’m still uncertain.  This is the argument that Turkle raises in How Computers Change the Way We Think.  She states, “some children who write narratives for their screen avatars may grow up with too little experience of how to share their real feelings with other people”.  I have mixed feelings about that statement.  On the one hand, I cautiously agree with that because I feel that sometimes I have a hard time communicating my feelings with others in real life.  Writing is my preferred method of communication because I can think about what I want to say and if I don’t like what I just wrote, I can just hit the delete button and start again.  Plus, I write more eloquently than I speak, and I can always look a word up in the dictionary seconds before I type it out to make sure I’m using it right.  I don’t have that luxury when I’m speaking in person.  They’ll just think I’m nuts.  But note what I just said: I cautiously agree.  I cautiously agree because I don’t know if this is a personality trait of mine, or if this is a result of too much online communication.  Of course, Turkle may be dead on for some people, but for myself, I am uncertain.  What I can say for my situation, however, is that Kallisti was a valuable experience for me.  It was my escape when life was hard.  I could go online after school and smite the hell out of a goblin guard.  If I didn’t want to play a paladin, I could switch over to my necromancer.  On the days that I just wanted to sit and chat, I could make my way to the circus with a friend and hang out.  The only downside to that was that although emotionally, it made us so close, we were actually so far, separated by a thin plane of glass stretching distances between us. 

Online communication cannot fully replace the real-life experience, but it’s a good place to start for those who are looking for a companion or a place to escape for the time being.  

Until next time,

Bonnie, no longer mounted on a winged nightmare, shooting magic missiles at skeletons in Goblin City. 

... and Clyde, signing off for the night.

P.S.  Beware of Pedobear.