Why I’m voting for Bernie

I once had a supervisor who played an iteration of a prototype I made and told me that I was “polishing a turd.” Game design, like politics, is often about incremental progress. But sometimes, you spend countless hours tweaking something that’s fundamentally broken.
I voted for Hillary Clinton in the 2016 primary because I believed we were on the right trajectory. Although I was too young to vote in 2008, I was inspired by Barack Obama and volunteered for his campaign. After he was elected he disbanded his grassroots movement, leaving us to have faith in his moral compass. I did just that for 8 years and didn’t see much need for a revolution. Unfortunately, it took Donald Trump’s election to show me the difference between keeping faith and keeping active. I had stopped paying close attention.
There was so much I wasn’t attuned to. One of my professors at USC said that the most important skill a game designer can possess is the ability to listen. In my experience, most game design lessons turn out to be good life lessons too. I opened my ears. I listened to my friends who supported Sanders in 2016. I read opinions not just from editorial boards, but from everyday people who I didn’t know. One person really caught my attention. She was a woman around my age from the Bronx who campaigned with Bernie’s principles. And she won.
I burst into tears when I read the New York Times article that announced Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’ victory. This felt like an American Dream worth believing in. She didn’t win through money and connections, but through dedication and perseverance. She spoke to and for the people she represented. She had a clear set of ideological principles, inspired by the vision Sanders has been fighting for his entire life.
I regret that it took so long to realize Bernie is my candidate. Throughout my entire life, it’s been idealism that’s inspired me into action.
I became a video game designer because I believed in the medium’s promise, but resented the status quo. Here was a popular new art form that could reveal new ways to describe human experiences, but we were wasting its potential with adolescent male power fantasies. The most innovative, heartfelt games weren’t approachable enough to attract a wider audience, and I was mostly embarrassed by the blockbusters that garnered mainstream attention. The form seemed destined for capitalistic success and cultural irrelevance.
I worked on my first game for nine years. It began in my college dorm room, continued in coffee shops after work hours, and eventually became my studio’s first project. For the better part of its development, I struggled to convince people with power in the video games industry that it should exist. It wasn’t about chasing high scores or beating an opponent into submission, it was about coming-of-age through quiet contemplation. Although the most popular iPhone games at the time were thinly-veiled slot machines, I focused on the platform so people outside of the video games bubble could be welcomed into the fold. This was the beginning of a fight I plan to continue for my entire career.
Where Cards Fall came out last September. I’m immensely proud of it, but it’s just the start. My ambition was never to create one game, it was to create a studio that would carry these idealistic principles into everything they make. I named it The Game Band, an ode to the collaborative nature of game design. The studio is our movement, and like Bernie’s own movement, it’s pluralistic.
We’re a diverse group of people with varying ideas and perspectives. We share a common goal, but invite and encourage debate about the best way to get there. The bands that persist are always the ones that challenge one another every step of the way. The moment dissent becomes unacceptable is the moment we lose. I want to be clear that this endorsement is my own — I cannot claim that it represents the views of the many different people at The Game Band. Nor should it.
Although it takes more than a single person to enact real change, I always admire the people who hold on to their ideals, especially when they’re unpopular. There are far more cynics in this world than idealists, but only an idealist can inspire others. That’s why my vote isn’t just for Bernie Sanders, but for every single person who has joined his movement. The person who lights the torch is rarely the one who carries it to the finish line.
I could tell you about why I support Bernie’s policies, from Medicare 4 All to the Green New Deal, and why I think he’s the best candidate to enact them. You can find similar arguments elsewhere though, and for better or worse most voters don’t vote because of policies. They vote with their hearts.
My heart is with the candidate who reminded me that progress starts with recognizing mistakes. After my supervisor casually dismissed a prototype I had labored over for days, I left my desk to clear my head. Before long I realized I agreed with him. I came up with a different direction and started again. The next one was better.
