Looks like I'm late to the party, can somebody pour me a drink?
I'm a girl gamer. More precisely, I'm a woman, a freelance game reviewer, and a mommy. I am very near 30, and I have been gaming since 1986. I am almost never offended by the content of a video game, but have been regularly been offended by the attitude of the male gaming community towards women in general and women gamers in particular.
When I was a kid, games were too new (and perhaps too pixelated) to be gender-stereotyped. Boys and girls alike equally despised "E.T." Sure, Pitfall Harry was a guy -- but so was Indiana Jones, who gives a crap? Yeah, it was mildly sexist that the reward for finishing Metroid was to replay the game with Samus in a bikini, and Princess Peach could be the poster child for helplessness the world over, but these are the same themes that pervade literature and film across the ages and across the globe. Besides which, as a player, I enjoy playing as a sexy chick. I like looking at pretty people as much as the next individual, and let's face it -- the female of the species is more appealing than the male. (Except the Prince from Sands of Time. That's a well-reticulated set of splines, if you catch my meaning.)
But a few guy gamers are really pissing in the communal punch. Now let's be clear, I'm not talking about the class acts like you've got in here. I mean real lowlifes. They give the rest of the guy gamers a bad name, and if you ask me, it's up to the dudes to deal with sexist (and often homophobic) assholes as only gamers can: through public humiliation and ridicule.
A personal story: in 2005, I worked full-time at a popular games retail outlet. I would regularly be bypassed by customers who wanted advice on a particular game -- they would literally walk past me to get to a man -- only to have my male colleagues refer the customer back to me, with the comment, "JL's our [RTS/RPG/Adventure/Puzzle/Civ/Sim] expert, let's ask her." I was also routinely asked, "do you work here?" (No, I'm standing behind the counter ringing someone up because the cash register is broken at The Gap.) And, my personal favorite, "Do you play video games?" (No, I just work here because geeks make me horny, tee hee!)
But what annoys me -- what really frosts my cookies -- is when girls and women refuse to come out of the gaming closet for fear of...what, really? Being labeled a geek? Being challenged by so-called "hard-core" male gamers, and then embarrassed? Being expected to *do* something about offensive (to some) gender stereotypes in games, instead of just railing against them in public fora?
When women hide their gaming habits in shame, we perpetuate the stereotypes that game developers have about women. Yes, women play differently than men. Yes, we sometimes play in wholly different genres. But we are a market force, as the ESA found last year when they discovered that 40% of all gamers (and 60% of online gamers) are women. Yes, I'm a woman gamer, and I play The Sims. I play lots of other titles, but all these years later, I still occasionally fire up The Sims 2 and force my electronic puppets to breed. Why do I feel vaguely ashamed to admit that?
Because the male-dominated games media has told me that The Sims is a casual game, and casual gaming is deemed Less Than. (I would argue that The Sims is one of the least casual games of all time, but that's a tale for another time.) Don't get me wrong. I'm part of the male-dominated games media (I regularly write for popmatters.com) and I try to avoid taking review assignments for "typically female" games so that I don't get pigeonholed as a girl-gaming expert or something. But I'm tired of all the posturing and having to defend my preferences -- for thinking games, not shooting games and for strategy over sex -- just because I'm in the (slim) minority.
In short, if women gamers want to become mainstream, we don't need a greater variety of gender-neutral games. We need to announce our preferences (by voting with our Louis Vuitton pocketbooks) and expect game developers to respond to our demands. In other words, we need to grow a collective pair (of ovaries) and start acting like grown women instead of petulant little girls.