Kanlic said:
I'd like to include tabletop games in that. When I was about sixteen I came home with a rulebook for Vampire. I'd had it for a couple days, for a campaign a friend would be running. My mother seized the book, pronouncing it "sick, sick, sick" except she said it maybe twenty-seven times. I was immediately banned from playing. The book belonged to my friend; I was almost unable to give it back to him.
Parents, I'd like to lay out a hypothetical scenario for you:
Let's suppose your kid is at the top of all his academic classes, and is so well-behaved it makes you wonder if maybe you're doing the job of parenting a little too well.
Let's suppose, however, your kid is ALSO last chosen in gym class, gets picked on daily by a gang of a dozen mean-spirited little pricks, is laughed at by guys and girls alike (even some of the faculty), has maybe two friends in the whole world, and only has them for friends because no one else wanted them. Let's suppose he takes no joy in anything, has absolutely zero outlet for pain and stress. He's the guy who will not be asked to sign a single yearbook. Make any argument you like about how high school is nothing compared to real life, that's still a pretty miserable state to be in.
Now let's suppose he sees something, for the first time, which might be that outlet. For just a few hours a week, he can pretend to be someone else. He looks at the vampire -- stuck being one age forever, constantly feeling evil urges he sometimes can't control, unable to love or be loved, the whole angsty package -- and sees a marvelous kinship. He already has video games. They haven't ruined him. He likes them. But here, at last, is something he could
love, a way to get out of himself for a short time. He can sit with some like-minded people, who might join his tiny circle of friends, and roll dice for a few hours. Exploring someone else's much larger problems will make his own seem less severe. He can have his outlet, he might even be better for it, and no one will get hurt.
Now let's suppose you snatch it away and tell him he's sick for wanting to do it.
Tell me: How have you helped him?
Parents, I'm being serious here. I really want to know how that helps.