Representation F#$@!&% Matters

Or How I Remembered My Life’s Purpose Naked, Holding In A Massive Fart

This past weekend, I took a trip to the ancestral homeland. It was a nice quick weekend jaunt, something I’m glad I did despite the fact that it snowed on the way there and on the way back and cost me more money and car mileage than I should have spent.

But y’all. I was supposed to go.

And for more than just for the reasons I went.

Making this trip reminded me of one of the foundational reasons I started this blog:

Representation. Fucking. Matters.

Mae Jemison became the first black female astronaut all because she saw Nichelle Nichols on Star Trek

I went home to see my sister. This trip was for her. She wrote, directed, and choreographed what she called her personal Lemonade. My sister has been a dancer for literally 5-ever but since I’m 5 years older than her, out of the house and in college before she was in high school, I’ve never seen her dance beyond mimicking Beyonce music videos in the living room. I had to see this.

So I made plans, gassed up the car, and drove the 5-ish hours from Cleveland to Indiana. Before leaving, my mother suggested I purchase a groupon for a massage. She had one she needed to redeem before it expired and so I purchased one too for the very same day. Massages with Mom then a Show with my Sister: the perfect day.

So what does any of this have to do with video games and representation?

Patience dearest reader. We’re getting there.

Now my inept ass has never had a professional massage before. I’m not that old (yet) or that bougie (yet) for massages to be on my list of activities to enjoy. But I thought a massage would be a great opportunity to bond with my mother who I hadn’t seen since February under sadder circumstances.

This was gonna be great.

Save one minor detail.

I had no idea you had to get naked for a massage.

My face when they said “Ok get naked.”

Look first of all, I already established I was inept. And in my (weak) defense, in my mind, I didn’t purchase a massage, I purchased a Thing To Do With My Mother. So I never thought about the material components involving the thing that I purchased.

Components like being naked in front of a complete, but thankfully female, stranger.

Shit.

At first I was dead silent, trying to focus on remembering to breathe and praying to the Old Gods and the New that I didn’t fart in this woman’s face (I didn’t.)

And after a while, I relaxed and started to open up. Made chit chat with my masseur, a kindly southern accented white lady blessed with the Fingers of God.

She asked me what I did while she was rotating my left ankle.

I told her: “I write about video games. Minecraft and stuff like that.”

Y’all, she damn near dropped my leg.

“Oh my God!”

She lit up! When I said Minecraft her whole attitude changed from polite ambivalence to full fucking investment. She started asking all kinds of questions about what games I like to play and how long I’d been a ‘gamer’ and what systems I owned.

And then she started talking about her daughter and how much she loves Minecraft.

I listened as this mom beat the kinks outta my back and gushed about her 9 year old girl, NINE YEAR OLD GIRL Y’ALL!, who is already proving to be a better content creator than the ‘they took muh viewers’ dudebros on Twitch.

This manchild is apparently less entertaining than stationary sacs of fat and flesh and BOY is he steamed about it.

She’s got subs, she makes Let’s Plays, she’s saving up for a webcam*. She is doing the damn thing at 9, nine!! Imagine what kind of content she could be creating at 19, at 29? And her mom, even with all the phenomenal achievements of her daughter was excited to meet me?

Why?

I’ll never forget what she told me, my ass out on the massage table desperately holding in that morning’s omelette.

“She’s never seen an older woman gamer. I can’t wait to tell her about you.”

My heart soared. (And my ass clenched.)

I wished I had something to give her. Something more than just words. I knew Minecon was coming. I told the mom everything I knew about it so she could take it back to her daughter.

But Masseuse Mom was so thrilled about me and learning about Minecon that once the massage was done, she Face Timed her daughter and asked if I would tell her about it personally.

Of course I said yes.

And then I learned, while this woman was white, her daughter was black.

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS

It wouldn’t have mattered what color she was, I get excited about young female gamers period, but that she was a black girl made this encounter that much more special.

When I spoke to the girl, I made sure I told her everything I knew about Minecon:Earth so she could get excited about her favorite game and be inspired to continue to do the work she does. Then I thanked her, and told her to keep it up because we need more girls like her making gaming videos.

She thanked me, hiding her face behind her hands.

And before she signed off, I heard her say to her mom: “Ok, I’m gonna log off and scream happily now.”

This was her. This was also me.

While my masseuse was excellent, that massage didn’t do anything for me physically, the ionic foot bath afterwards did even less with it’s bunk ass science, and my mom didn’t even get rubbed down with me, opting for a separate room so she could relax in perfect silence.

Objectively, this Mama/Daughter massage trip was a waste.

And if I kept my mouth shut and my ass clenched, it would have remained a waste.

But meeting that girl made all the difference.

I’m nobody. Really. I haven’t done much. I’m not a voice for black female gamers (yet) the way Tanya DePass is or the BGG collective or literally anybody else. But in that moment, when she saw me, I mattered to her. What I represented, mattered to her, and her to me. She saw who she could be, I saw who I’m doing this for.

And I hope one day, maybe at a Twitchcon, or a Minecon, or a Vidcon, I’ll see her again.

*The name of the game in content creation is getting seen and heard. And while I want this girl to grow and be successful in her endeavors, I’m exceedingly wary of posting links to a minor’s YouTube channel. I also have no way of contacting her mother to ask permission to do so. And if I were her, knowing what I know about the internet, I’d say no anyway.