CiQ V.1 i.4

CiQ images and text from our time in Creativity in Quarantine Vol. 1 Issue 4 November 5, 2020

2020

Tanya Parker Twitter: @tanya_nottonya Instagram: @tanya_nottonya Washington, DC

Brack Duncan Winchester, KY

Dungeons and Dragons

by Ian Ferrell

Dungeons and Dragons has saved my sanity during quarantine. I confess! Like the nerdy pre-teens on Stranger Things, I play a game of swords and sorcery that is basically make-believe with dice. Some of my fellow players are still so embarrassed that they haven’t admitted to non-players that they enjoy it.

But I will! I play D&D, and I love it. There.

For the uninitiated, I imagine you have heard of Dungeons and Dragons but may not really know what it is or how it’s played. That’s fine. It’s not everybody’s thing.

All you need to understand for this piece is that it’s storytelling with rules. The very basics are that one person (the Game or Dungeon Master) runs the game by presenting a story and explaining the consequences of what the players choose to do. The players make characters and describe to the Game Master what they want their characters to do. A player rolls dice to determine most actions, to add some probability and chance, and the Game Master explains the results in glorious detail.

Really, that’s about it. It is storytelling told by a group of people incorporating math and the whims of dice rolls. The players and GM work together to tell a story of heroes, battle, intrigue, and adventure. And loot. Lots of loot. Loot please?

Before 2020, friends and I would play in person, gathered around a table with drinks, snacks, dice, paper, and little miniature heroes. Between drinks, snacks, and talk, we would occasionally fight an orc band in the countryside. It was crucial, beautiful friend time, centered around a diverting game. The ritual was similar to families’ monopoly nights or work buddies’ poker nights.

After the pandemic hit, I figured we were done. However, through the magic of the Internet, we were able to move the adventures online! We’ve gathered around the online table several evenings a week with our drinks and snacks, ready for some adventuring. Hilarious moments include playing magical saxophones to start battles, making zombies touch magic gates to test them out, and rolling barrels of dwarvish ale into a spy hideout. It’s all made up, and it’s all fun. Most importantly, it has given me that crucial social time in a period where we need to be as asocial as possible for ours and others’ safety. Dungeons and Dragons has kept me sane.

There’s an odd part of D&D, though, that is going to turn this essay in a completely different direction. Hold on to your battleaxes, people.

Because D&D has existed since 1974, there is an overwhelming amount of lore, backstory, and tradition associated with it. Within that vast collection of material is the menagerie of monsters that Game Masters can use to challenge and threaten

their players. Classic monsters are generally drawn from global mythology, such as the Cyclops from Greek myth or the Oni from Japanese folklore. A party of adventurers could fight an Aztec Coatl and an Egyptian Sphinx in the same battle!

However, there are some creatures that are more specific to D&D and are found in countless tabletop adventures around the country.

And here, adventurers, is where I must bring up the elephant in the game room: Dark Elves.

To understand the…discomfort…I have with Dark Elves, you need to know about race. In D&D, players have to choose their character’s race. That alone is awkward.

However, race in D&D is a little different. The D&D races are more like types of creatures: elves, dwarves, humans, hobbits (excuse me, Tolkien estate—halflings), etc. That explanation may have you thinking, “Ah, well, that’s not as bad. Maybe an unfortunate choice of words, but still. Not about real-world race issues.”

Hold on there, little halfling.

Here’s a line from chapter one of D&D’s Player’s Handbook: “The race you choose contributes to your character’s identity in an important way, by establishing a general appearance and the natural talents gained from culture and ancestry.

Your character’s race grants particular racial traits, such as special senses…” Can you imagine that passage outside of D&D? The very idea of one’s race determining their culture is a problem. Wouldn’t dwarves, regardless of similar outward appearance, have different cultures in different areas? Why does one “race” have a culture, but “humans” in D&D have lots of different cultures? It sounds silly in the context of elves and dwarves, but the issue is still there: Why do we assume someone’s race determines anything about them besides physical appearance?

Let’s set aside race and continue to alignment. When players make a character, they choose a moral alignment. That means they can be Lawful, Neutral, or Chaotic, and Good, Neutral, or Evil. So, I could make a noble knight who is Lawful Good, always following the law and aiding others. Alternatively, I could make a Neutral Evil assassin who is only looking out for number one. Fun character development! A little simplistic, but there we are.

Instagram @stewartmh Atlanta, GA

Dauchness Monster Meghan Stewart

However, D&D doesn’t stop with individual characters. Entire races are evil. Entire.

Races. Are. Evil. And now, adventurers, we return to Dark Elves.

Here’s how the Player’s Handbook describes choosing your elf alignment: “They [elves] value and protect others’ freedom as well as their own, and they are more often good than not. The drow [dark elves] are an exception; their exile to the Underdark has made them vicious and dangerous. Drow are more often evil than not.” Alas, adventurers. My beloved D&D has labeled an entire group of specifically dark-skinned individuals as more often evil than not.

In your horror, you might stammer to me, “But, you said D&D is from 1974. It was a different time!” That’s not that long ago, and D&D was first published in 1974 (by a white and extremely creative man with the enjoyable name Gary Gygax). It has undergone several updates since then, giving writers plenty of opportunities to rethink “evil” races. The most recent and easily most popular fifth edition, from which all the above quotes were cited, was published in 2014. No excuses left.

In their defense, D&D as a company is trying to change. They have explained that, by design, the humans (and even other “races”) of D&D can be any color, gender, or background the character wants; the writers specifically wanted players to be able to create characters that look and act and identify as they do. Also, they recently revised and re-released an adventure that previously used “gypsy” stereotypes based on the Romani people with updated ideas from a Romani consultant. D&D’s parent company, Wizards of the Coast, has also committed to diversifying their staff and content creators.

Still, the larger issue remains: racist ideas are an integral part of the fabric of D&D. Generalizations about entire groups of intelligent beings lead to a mindset that

Ariel Cooper

“people like that are evil.” It’s not just Dark Elves. There are dark dwarves, dark gnomes, and evil snake people who just happen to draw from “exotic” imagery of Central America, India and East Asia. I mean, there’s an entire race of “goblinoids” who are intelligent, but evil, brutish, and ugly. This idea of “evil races” affects the way players play. It has happened during quarantine with my socially progressive friends who are demonstrably committed to promoting and furthering equality.

In the game, they have said nearly verbatim, “If it’s a dark elf, let’s kill it. I hate those things.” They are being ironic and intentionally facetious, but those words only come up at all because D&D has entire races of beings that are described as evil, tricky, deceptive, untrustworthy, and violent. Also, the mechanics of the game (which I will not detail here to spare you several lifetimes) reward players for making quick assessments of threats based on physical appearance alone.

The system of D&D is racist as it is currently written.

Which leads to the larger issue. The Black Lives Matter movement has shown us that just being individually “not racist” is not enough. I don’t think I know anyone personally who would say “Yes! I’m a racist! Thanks very much for asking!” That era is nearing its end. The insidious truth is that “no one’s racist anymore,” but a racist system exists, continues, and is in every aspect of life. I submit as evidence my humble, beloved, nerdy-as-hell hobby of D&D. Dungeons and Dragons is literally make-believe. It is, and has been for me these past months, an entertaining escape from reality. It involves fictional characters in a made-up world doing impossible things. However, this seemingly consequence-less fun promotes the idea that creatures with dark skin are all the same, and they’re all evil.

D&D enthusiasts are trying change this on their own. More recent adventure settings are trying to recontextualize “evil” races like goblins and drow, giving them more depth and complexity. A popular fantasy book series based on D&D features Drizzt, a dark elf who is a good person (though the rest of the dark elves are still evil. Small steps.) One independent content creator has made new opensource rules for character creation that eliminate “race” altogether, replacing it with “ancestry” and “culture,” which separates physical traits (height, moving speed) from societal ones (military background, languages spoken).

These are steps in the right direction, but more work needs to be done by the larger organization and by individuals.

But here’s the ridiculous thing about that last sentence: it’s about Dungeons and Dragons. Can you imagine the work that needs to be done for racial justice in real things? In police departments, housing codes, judicial systems, prison sentencing, and school districts? Not being racist is not enough. We all need to get to work changing the system, whether it’s the town charter or the Player’s Handbook.

Adventurers, that will be a worthy quest.

Ian Ferrell English Teacher and Co-Director of the Theatre Department at Baker Intermediate School Actor in three Leeds productions In case D&D nerds want to talk more about the nitty-gritty of D&D and race: Ianferrell08@gmail.com Georgetown, KY

Ariel Cooper (they/them), Instagram @bearmaidart Jacksonville, FL

Chuck Witt retired architect, chuck740@bellsouth.net Winchester, KY

At the War Memorial September 16, 2010

by Chuck Witt

As I paused at the war memorial And pondered how it honored the dead, A group of young people came up to me I barely caught what one of them said.

“Are you a veteran?” one quietly asked, Lest too loud a voice might disturb Those souls revered here in granite writ, The battles fought, the dead interred.

I slowly turned to see upturned faces With inquiring eyes and bashful glances, As they waited for some sage response, What could I say? What could I answer?

For I knew that my brief time in service Placed me not amongst the brave remembered, Nor gave me credit in their presence, This fall-foretelling mild September.

My momentary silence must have revealed The thoughts that swirled within my mind, As the musing crowds passed to and fro, And proper words were hard to find.

At last I framed words carefully chosen, “Yes, I’m a veteran”, was my reply, Though the response was fraught with sadness “But not like those who around us lie”.

“For I never saw the hell they saw, Nor witnessed good and close friends die.

I never raised a gun in anger, Never heard the bullets fly.

I only did what was my duty.

Marched and drilled and practiced war.

I served my time and went home gladly But understand what they battled for.”

“Oh, that’s alright, sir.” one youth opined.

“You’re a veteran, that’s all that matters.

And we thank you for your service.”

As they turned and left, midst childish pratter.

Left alone, in silent reverie, I wonder what these children thought Of me and here this quiet place Dedicated to a host of battles fought.

But as for me, I understand That this memorial is more than stone.

It’s remembrance of those who gave their all On distant shores, away from home.

In far off lands with odd-sounding names, In fear-filled skies of smoke and flame, On dangerous waters full of death, To win a war. It was no game.

I understand what this all signifies, That man’s devotion is a high calling, And cannot be so lightly taken When all around, comrades are falling.

I shall come again some summer day, Or perhaps in winter’s pristine snow.

And pay my last respects once more, And wonder if more youth will show.

Measure of a Man

by Hannah Harris

From statues we know that our history is full of tall stone men and metal soldiers on angry horses who tell their stories standing motionless frozen sentries of parks and plazas What wonders they have seen these patrons of pigeons and pedestrians providing shade and shelter on a hot day To behold these monoliths affords the opportunity to believe that we have learned something as we stroll on the recipient of an inheritance of ignorance Better then to dive not into reflection at the still pool but to take a monumental leap Sinking bravely into the bloody history of this land That we might learn the true story of what these men both did and did not do And there read the epitaph of those that opposed them but for whom no marker stands Only then can we be worthy of this legacy both beautiful and terrible and finally begin to shoulder The responsibility of our future

Spirit of the Woodland Floor Watercolor 8x10 Kara Valentino Ffield Instagram: @KaraValentinoFfield, karavalentinoffield.com Pensacola, FL

Elizabeth Jirak

Elizabeth Jirak Age 17, Instagram @lizzie_Letters Winchester, KY

Filthy Ditch Crew Zine

Filthy Ditch Crew Zine www.filthyditchcrew.com, @filthyditchcrewzine Los Angelos, CA

Flame

by Hannah Harris

Drawn to the blue glow my attention flits like a moth from thing to thing almost settling for a moment and I hold my breath anxiously willing it to stay but I am too clumsy and it dances away again beating its fragile wings against the parameters of distraction until they are ragged and dusty my mind maimed and fluttering held prisoner in the palm of my hand

Hannah Harris

Kyle Taylor @kyletdraws Montgomery, AL

Performing on the porch for neighbors!

Eli Holbrook Winchester, KY

Thank you to everyone who shared their creativity with us.

Tanya Parker Brack Duncan Ian Ferrell Meghan Stewart Ariel Cooper Chuck Witt Hannah Harris Kara Ffield Elizabeth Jirak Filthy Ditch Crew Kyle Taylor Eli Holbrook

Edited by Rebecca Campomanes Published by Leeds Center for the Arts