2014 - How “Dungeons & Dragons” saved my autistic son
This piece originally appeared on The Good Men Project.
Salon.com Tuesday, Apr 15, 2014 04:50 AM PDT - http://www.salon.com/2014/04/15/how_dungeons_dragons_saved_my_autistic_son_partner
It’s a Saturday afternoon, and I’m sitting at my kitchen table surrounded by crumpled chip bags, half-empty bottles of soda and dog-eared papers. At the table with me are Shane*, a plump 14-year-old with thick, dark hair; Benjamin*, 15 and all elbows and shins; and Storm, my 14-year-old son, his shaggy brown hair nearly covering his eyes.
Shane grabs a 20-sided die from the table and shakes it in his hand. “I’m going to try to shoot a grappling hook over the edge,” he explains.
“How much rope is attached to the hook?” I ask. As the Dungeon Master, or DM, I’m in charge of creating the world the characters inhabit, so consistency and veracity are important.
Shane checks his character sheet, the list of all his character’s skills and equipment, and discovers he doesn’t have enough rope to climb out of the pit trap their characters have fallen into.
Across the table, Storm is fidgeting impatiently, chewing his finger and bouncing his leg like a sewing machine. I can tell by the almost pained look on his face that he has an idea, but he knows he has to wait his turn before blurting it out. And that little thing – him listening to his fellow players, coming up with a plan, and waiting his turn to explain it – makes me smile. A few months ago, when we first started playing, he would not have done any of those things. Storm, you see, has Pervasive Developmental Delay, an Autism Spectrum disorder similar to Asperger’s.
Storm wasn’t diagnosed as PDD until he was in the seventh grade, which made his early childhood confusing and challenging for him and those around him. He was an affectionate, outgoing little guy, but there were things about him that just “weren’t right.” He didn’t speak until he was almost a year old. When he finally did start talking, he would go on and on about airplanes or Mario Brothers, not making eye contact or listening to others’ responses. Sometimes he would repeat words or phrases over and over again. He just didn’t seem to “get” other people.
But he wanted to. He earnestly tried to make friends, but because of his awkward mannerisms and total lack of non-verbal communication skills, he was usually ostracized or bullied.
So, when I noticed Shane in his yard next door slicing imaginary foes with a wooden sword, it was like a light-bulb went off above my head.
If you’re not familiar with the game, Dungeons and Dragons™, or “D&D,” is a fantasy role-playing game played entirely inside the imagination. Created by Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson in the early ‘70s, it’s based on traditional miniature wargames, with heavy doses of fantasy and mythology mixed in. Players take turns acting to achieve their goals, which can be to find a long-lost artifact, assassinate an evil tyrant, or, in this case, escape from a pit trap. But it’s not just pretending; there are numerous rules governing what can and can’t be done. Every action, no matter how mundane, must follow the rules of both the game and common sense; you can’t draw a sword you don’t have or get a pint of ale without paying (unless you’re willing to outrun or outfight the innkeeper’s brawny son).
Like in real life, players’ success or failure depends on their skills and abilities, along with random chance – the roll of the dice. Working together and thinking creatively increase players’ chances of success – again, like real life.
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