games about embodiment.

I believe that, as tellers of tales, we cannot help but put ourselves into our works. The settings we build, the plots we develop, the characters we create – even those that we say are “nothing like us” – are influenced by our perspectives on the world, just as the way paint sits on the canvas might imply the shape of the brush, or the way the the shape of a screw-top suggests the design of the head of the screwdriver. Our views of the world are shaped – at least in part – by the worlds that we experience. Even just the choice of what to write about can sometimes reveal details about the writer, as the flint arrowhead may reveal the curve of the hammerstone. The stories that we tell cannot help but reflect the stories we’ve heard. We can use this to understand the metaphors that move us at our core, and also to help us recognize the gaps in what we know about others.

Within each of us, however, is more than just fact and history. More than mere biology, we are sociology, philosophy, theology, creativity. Our experiences may be tied to our physical manifestation but they can ultimately only provide us with information. It is up to us, to who we are as people, to decide how we wish to act on what we know and what we experience. We must choose how we exist in the world. We must choose what of our experiences we take into ourselves. Our pasts may inform us, but they cannot be allowed to define us. It is our dreams and fantasies, our chosen futures, that we must let inspire us, impassion us, and inform us of how we wish to show up in the world.

I believe in the power of narrative to transform the player through role-playing. I believe that, through interactive stories, we can create spaces within which we can safely explore new ways of being, new ways of expressing ourselves, and new ways of engaging with the world. We can then use what we’ve learned at the table about our characters and apply that learning to us. We can, through the actions of our characters at the table, make discoveries about ourselves.

games about empathy.

Not only can we learn about ourselves, but I think we can use role-playing games to learn about each other. Just as we can use embodied storytelling to see ourselves in new and different ways, we can also use the medium to familiarize ourselves with the Other. In that way, I think role-playing games can be more than tools of self-discovery; they can serve as tools for cultivating empathy as well.

Every player at the table, the taleweaver included, is wearing a mask. Some may be simple, others may be elaborate, but everyone at the table is assuming a new identity for the purpose of the story we’re telling together. Asking others to respect and recognize our chosen selves at the table also means putting in that work for others. That could mean using different names for people, different pronouns, even treating people as having different ancestries or being made of different materials. We might recognize people as having different skills or abilities, or even powers or disabilities they lack outside the narrative. Part of the magic of role-playing is simply letting these things “be true” within the context of the story, and both experiencing and letting others experience living inside those worlds.

And yet, through all of these changes and variations, we also have to accept that if we want the story to work for everyone at the table, then we have to treat the people using those different names and pronouns and ancestries and materials as people. We respect the choices they make, even when they’re not the choices we would make, because they’re also telling their stories and some choices at the table are just theirs to make. In these environments, we choose to respect the rights of others because we want others to respect our right to make those same choices. We can use embodied storytelling to help us learn to negotiate healthy boundaries and navigate consequences, using mutually agreed-upon safety tools to help us build environments in which we can more safely be vulnerable and take emotional risks.

games about empowerment.

I think that learning role-playing is a critical life-skill, because it can teach us about how we want to show up in the world. A well-crafted game balances player agency with the consequences for choices that players make for their characters. At the same time, a skilled taleweaver knows how to encourage players to see some obstacles as challenges yet to be overcome. Without at least some tension, there isn’t much tale to be told, and so a taleweaver must provide ways for the characters to challenge themselves, usually with death-defying odds.

I am, at heart, a hopepunk. I believe that we all, in our own ways, understand what it means to struggle against oppression. I think that, through radical kindness and empathy, we can learn to see one another more fully as people, and through that understanding we can find solutions to problems that will lead to lasting change. I think that the right people in the right place at the right time can change the world. I believe that, ultimately, we are all on our own hero’s journey, even the NPCs. I believe that the most interesting villains believe that they, too, are on a hero’s journey, and that the conflict at the heart of a well-crafted narrative is between opposing points of view. Often I find resolving that conflict involves rolling for initiative.

I seek to tell stories that help highlight the themes underlying the choices we make. I seek to tell stories that help people learn about themselves. I seek to tell stories that inspire people to think of the world as a place that we can choose to make better, for ourselves and each other. And I seek to help others tell the stories they want to tell. I believe we can accomplish all of this, and still make sure everyone is having fun, telling the stories we all want to tell together.

I look forward to telling stories with you.