gAmeDHD

To whom I hope is a future reader,

Our favorite games open with the promise of grand adventures or short hikes, intricate puzzles or simple head scratchers, diabolical villains or silly rivals, new friends or solitude, the deepest or most zenlike mechanics, and perhaps – most importantly – a means to lose or to find yourself. I want this space to promise the same diversity of options, but for a very specific subset of people. That’s not to say everyone isn’t welcome here, there’s just some stuff we’ll be dealing with upon which not everyone will be able to find a foothold – or even care to, for that matter.  

We’re dealing with two seemingly disparate experiences: gaming, and neurodivergence. However, you need look no further than Satoshi Tajiri and the creation of Pokémon for an example of the unavoidable impact neurodivergence has had on gaming. If you even start to look at the indie space, you become immersed in a scene rife with artists devoting entire projects and careers to telling stories of neurodiversity through video games. 

We seem to tend to gravitate towards gaming. gAmeDHD wants to explore why that is.

For a lot of us it started in our childhood or adolescence. We spent countless nights as kids grinding away on our favorite obscure JRPG, while neglecting homework, sports, or other more “acceptable, productive” pursuits. We were told we could “go so far, accomplish so much, if we would just apply ourselves.” The term “indoor kid” has been thrown around enough to make me nauseous. The thing is, some of us dealt with a whole hell of a lot more than just being an “indoor kid”. Some of us had everything we could ever ask for, right, so what was the problem? Some of us felt like aliens on a planet surrounded by beings we so desperately tried to be like. Some of us got yelled at in class for doodling during lectures – for “not paying attention”. Some of us saw or heard things we knew weren’t there, and found ways to get confirmation from those around us. Some of us found ourselves in situations without everything we could ever ask for – far less in fact – struggling to survive in a system and surroundings that didn’t have our back. We lied in bed and couldn’t for the life of ourselves figure out why we were so desperately, inconsolably sad. 

We “Grew Up” and still the presence of what older generations considered a childhood pastime remained as a significant part of our lives. Gaming endured as an immovable concrete fixture where other aspects of our lives crumbled around us like burning papier mâchié – maybe we set fire to it ourselves. Now, we struggle day in, day out to make of ourselves what our surroundings demand. We pour your coffee, bake your bread, build your software, balance your finances, nurse your illness, deliver your dinner, teach your children, fight your wars, and enter your data, all while knowing something’s not quite “right”; everyone else seems to have an easier go-of-it, however much they protest otherwise.

But the flicker of the screen tells us the stories we lose ourselves in, the sound of the game fills our ears with soon-to-be nostalgic tracks, the weight of the controller in our hands gives us – for one precious opportunity in our life – true autonomy and only dreamed-of ability. All these experiences fulfill us in ways literally nothing else can. What makes us pour so much of ourselves into this space, when we so often have so little of ourselves to give? Why do so many of us make games and games media our number one passion or even careers, and who are the people who have graced us with these enabling, life altering, experiences? Perhaps most importantly, who are we who identify as neurodivergent and play video games? What do we bring to the game? What do we see in any one particular piece that others might completely miss? What do we fail to notice that others so clearly see? These are some of the questions gAmeDHD aims to explore. Though we may come to no real conclusions, a plan was made, an effort attempted.

Following is a mission statement for the site. It will inevitably evolve as time goes on, but for now these are the goals that are set. 

Time for some bureaucracy:

gAmeDHD in its writing, online presence, and community structure will always strive to:

1. Represent neurodivergence in the video game art and consumer space as truthfully and inclusively as possible at all times, endeavoring to make our reader feel seen.
2. Aim for diverse representation, opinions, and viewpoints in articles and interviews we write, and the games we play.
3. Strive to better the quality of interviews and writing through the continued immersion in games and games journalism. A respect for influence from those who paved the way we now strike out upon should always be considered, while at the same time expressing our own unique point of view and style.
4. Engage with the community and industry in a productive and progressive manner, respecting – if not accepting – all viewpoints. We only ever punch up, never punch down.
5. Never put gaming – in any form, including this publication – above our own or others’ well-being. Nothing needs to be played or written about right now. 
6. Place the ability to express personal opinion and personal experience as well as the goal of community advancement and representation above any – if any – form of income revenue. What we write here is what we choose to write, not what someone has told us to, or what will generate income.
7. Respect and learn from any and all other forms of expression, art, and creativity.

These are lofty, perhaps unnecessarily self indulgent, most likely perpetually unattainable goals. As I formally launch this site in the summer of 2024, I am the sole contributor, so “diverse representation” is a Mount Everest I’m at the base of, which I may never climb. However, I aim to include the contributions of any willful collaborators as time goes on. In any case, I will do my damnedest to reference the works of as many diverse sources as I can find. If you’ve made it this far, I can’t thank you enough, and I’m excited for you to read what’s to come! There are articles in the works. Also, if you’ve made it this far, you know how neurodivergent brains work, so you’ve probably guessed that I don’t have an exact date for the first piece. All I can promise is “soon”. 

Thank you so much, now go give your brain a treat!

Love you,
Colin
gAmeDHD