finally...
yo, koipond ! I promised you philosophical waxing about the social value of LARP.
I'm making good.
Here's the thing - there's something about the quality of roleplay I see from my regular players that transcends "roleplaying". It becomes personally cathartic, it becomes Sacred, it becomes creativity and joy and trust and humanity manifest. Like a ceremonial dance or a ritual circle, the energy that comes out of a good roleplay scene becomes part of the community around us.
I have never been more proud of my players than I am right now, looking back on the last ten years. I've seen political maneuvers that made my brain boggle and my eyes pop. I've seen the script thrown out the window, boundaries deconstructed, rules tested and paradigms upended. My heartstrings have been tied up in knots, I've been infuriated to the point of speechless. There is something divine in the collective application of experiences and imagination to tell a story more fantastic and glorious than the story any one of us could tell on our own.
Especially in an ongoing, organic game, like the Avatar system, I watch people return again and again to themes that are personal and pertinent to all of us, at one time or another. Forgiveness, growth, education. Retribution, redemption. Strip away the day jobs, strip away paying the rent and the strictures of time and space, and these are the things on everybody's mind. Sometimes, they don't even know that they are on a path traveled by - literally - hundreds of players before them. I can see people work through social anxiety, through a keen need to control their environment. I watch impulse control issues give way to careful observation and thoughtful reactions. I watch people learn to respect each other, to react appropriately, to offer apologies for wrongs issued.
The microcosm of the Avatar system is truly astonishing to me - kids come in as college or high school aged attendees. They are brash and bold and overpowering, and the community tempers them. I watch them grow strong and certain, and I watch as storytelling - the oldest form of communicating universal lessons to young ones again takes sway. In the setting, in our hotel, in our rooms, at the counsil table, we are free. We are safe. We can imagine the inconceivable, we can solve problems by our sheer force of will. We can save the world, negotiate peace, neutralize the enemy. We can come to terms with our own failings, we can practice coping mechanisms. And when it's all done? We've got a piece of fiction, collaboratively woven, that is so densely detailed and so deeply moving that any studio in the country should cry for the chance to retell it on screen.
We can do things we'd never do in real life. We can become people and explore roles we'd never have the fortitude to stick with for more than a night. We can imagine a world where gender roles are completely obliterated - where worth is based on achievement and personal strength, not our somewhat arbitrary starting point on the socio-economic scale. Think about it - a no-fault stage on which to explore cause and effect. To participate in a self-regulating, self-policing, self-protecting community that _encourages_ exploration!
I'm making good.
Here's the thing - there's something about the quality of roleplay I see from my regular players that transcends "roleplaying". It becomes personally cathartic, it becomes Sacred, it becomes creativity and joy and trust and humanity manifest. Like a ceremonial dance or a ritual circle, the energy that comes out of a good roleplay scene becomes part of the community around us.
I have never been more proud of my players than I am right now, looking back on the last ten years. I've seen political maneuvers that made my brain boggle and my eyes pop. I've seen the script thrown out the window, boundaries deconstructed, rules tested and paradigms upended. My heartstrings have been tied up in knots, I've been infuriated to the point of speechless. There is something divine in the collective application of experiences and imagination to tell a story more fantastic and glorious than the story any one of us could tell on our own.
Especially in an ongoing, organic game, like the Avatar system, I watch people return again and again to themes that are personal and pertinent to all of us, at one time or another. Forgiveness, growth, education. Retribution, redemption. Strip away the day jobs, strip away paying the rent and the strictures of time and space, and these are the things on everybody's mind. Sometimes, they don't even know that they are on a path traveled by - literally - hundreds of players before them. I can see people work through social anxiety, through a keen need to control their environment. I watch impulse control issues give way to careful observation and thoughtful reactions. I watch people learn to respect each other, to react appropriately, to offer apologies for wrongs issued.
The microcosm of the Avatar system is truly astonishing to me - kids come in as college or high school aged attendees. They are brash and bold and overpowering, and the community tempers them. I watch them grow strong and certain, and I watch as storytelling - the oldest form of communicating universal lessons to young ones again takes sway. In the setting, in our hotel, in our rooms, at the counsil table, we are free. We are safe. We can imagine the inconceivable, we can solve problems by our sheer force of will. We can save the world, negotiate peace, neutralize the enemy. We can come to terms with our own failings, we can practice coping mechanisms. And when it's all done? We've got a piece of fiction, collaboratively woven, that is so densely detailed and so deeply moving that any studio in the country should cry for the chance to retell it on screen.
We can do things we'd never do in real life. We can become people and explore roles we'd never have the fortitude to stick with for more than a night. We can imagine a world where gender roles are completely obliterated - where worth is based on achievement and personal strength, not our somewhat arbitrary starting point on the socio-economic scale. Think about it - a no-fault stage on which to explore cause and effect. To participate in a self-regulating, self-policing, self-protecting community that _encourages_ exploration!