Something has been bothering me since I started streaming more seriously. How in the flying fuck after ten plus years of video game culture being mainstream are girls with controllers and headsets still considered unicorns? Why are so many girls and women in this community made to feel like they're completely alien and out of place, or mythical creatures who need to be put in a zoo or museum? (Or driven out and eradicated, as some of the more reactionary fringe groups believe.) Why are female critics, writers, and streamers held to such different standards, and expected to both have a more intense "gamer cred" and show their tits to get ahead?
I used to rant a lot about how misrepresented women in gaming are. The only high-profile players or streamers I've been seeing are young, attractive, and act like genki Japanese schoolgirls. It made me angry, because I felt like all of us frumpy, ragey, middle-aged women were unwelcome in the community. I even started to talk about the stereotypical gamer girls as somehow less skilled, less qualified, or less REAL than I am. Which is totally the wrong thing to take away from a realization like that. It's more important to ask why those women are portrayed that way, or feel the need to market themselves that way. If that's how they actually are, and behaving that way or prettying themselves up before picking up a controller makes them feel happy, then I am in no position to criticize. But my experience just in the last week makes me think that simple self-enjoyment isn't the whole story.
In the last week I've gotten two major types of feedback about my show, and they've both been enlightening. The first group, the haters, are the most standout douchebags. They insult my appearance, demand I show my tits, make intensely sexual comments, and do their best to detract from my commentary and broadcasting. The second group, after lurking in the stream for a little while, remark about how refreshing it is to see a woman on cam with her stream without any pretensions to "sexing herself up," and focusing more on the game than flirtation and fluff. While I enjoy fucking with the former group and appreciate the affirmation that I'm doing something right from the latter group...they're both rooted in the same overall mentality.
A woman on stream is not just a streamer. She is automatically a woman streamer, and subject to an entirely different set of rules and expectations than her male colleagues. If a male streamer makes a dick joke, people laugh. If a female streamer makes a dick joke, chat blows up with wondering what kind of dick she likes and whether or not she'd be able to handle the in-your-dreams proportions of the commenters' wobbly bits. This honestly came as a shock to me, because I expected that I would not be expected to show up in date attire for my stream. Jeans and a Kingdom Hearts tshirt, hair pulled back so I don't overheat or get it caught on my headset... I figured that would be enough. The camera, in my mind, is just there because sometimes the facial expressions and non-verbal reactions to things ingame are just too good to miss, and can add a lot of extra entertainment to the commentary and gameplay. I I didn't have tits or a higher-pitched voice, I think I'd be correct in assuming that.
I really don't know how to combat this problem. My gut reaction was to institute a safe space policy on my stream, and highlight the fact that I am a streamer first and a woman second. After the eight pm troll rush yesterday, I banned the worst offenders and made a point to mention every so often that the way I play and the things I enjoy are no different than male players and streamers. But why do have to constantly justify my existence, or push so hard to make people see me as more than just some less-than-impressive tits with a headset? Or Jabba the Hutt in black glasses, as one of my troll called me. (Got some great laughs for telling him that I wished I was as cool as Jabba, because who the fuck else in Star Wars got Leia into a slave girl outfit and on a leash?)
Prominent male streamers do not have to take PSA breaks to assure viewers that they are watching a streamer and not a Guy Gamer. When they acknowledge their followers, subs, and donations they don't feel the need to do little dances or blow kisses or whatever. And they're never, that I've seen, asked what it's like to be a man who plays video games or a man who streams.
It's rare that I listen to or watch female streamers, because the amount of unicorn and yay I'm a girl that goes on bothers me a lot, but the other night Cookie was listening to Dizzykittens in bed while she was doing her end-of-stream QA, and it seemed like all of the questions she got focused on her gender, sexuality, and gamer cred. The answers to the questions, and how the hostess tried to steer the conversation back to the games, or the process of becoming a paid streamer and building a following really made me wonder how much of the giggle show on her stream is genuine and how much of it is marketing.
I will not change the way I dress or act while playing in the name of marketing. It's probably a terrible decision, since I am trying to turn this into a professional gig, but my integrity isn't worth giving up for some extra clicks. I want my audience to tune in because they enjoy my company and company, not because they like the way I look or pander to them. My influences and inspirations in streaming are probably JohnBams, Morikopa, and Ducksauce just because those are the ones Cookie watches the most and I spend a lot of time listening to them. I strive to strike a balance between game-related commentary, comedy, and unrelated pop-culture discussions. My favorite game while I was broadcasting ArcheAge was celebrity lookalike NPCs.
I thought about taking the camera off my stream, so that the haters don't have any reason to hijack my chat to fulfill their need to victimize someone, but I don't want to be that woman who's afraid to speak up because she's a woman and a man might react badly. I support retaking the night. I support teaching people not to hate, not segregation. Challenging the status quo is the only way to change it, and I like to think I'm strong enough to do that.
Maybe I'm taking too much of a crusader mentality about this, but I don't really care. I'm sure I'm going to make mistakes along the way, but I'm going to try my damnedest to break away from the unicorn mentality and the generally misogynistic metagame within the community. The heart of Tactical Dysfunction is in carving your own path to victory, and being accepting and open to other ideas and methodologies. It was a good choice of brand, I think, and hope I can live up to it as I try to change not only others' perceptions and expectations of women in gaming but my own as well.
I promise I'll get back to actual content with the next update. Stay dysfunctional, friends.
No comments:
Post a Comment