Mommy Mafia Diaries

Mon, 01/13/2014 - 8:00am

Anneli Skaar

If you have a child between the ages of 5 and 15, your home life will likely be full of talk of Minecraft.

If you have in fact been living under a piece of redstone for the last year, Minecraft is an online game only slightly more visually sophisticated than the 1985 Money for Nothing video, combined with an Amish barnraising. This game, with it's basic, blocky design has captured the hearts of millions of children, and for lack of a better word, they are obsessed. They are chopping down trees with axes in order to harvest wood to build beds, they are keeping farm animals for food and cloth, and generally living an existence doing all the things you'd like them to be doing in real life if you were Laura Ingalls Wilder. My son can craft an iron sword to defend his homestead, while in the real world he is still peeing like he is putting out a grease fire in the bathroom.

From what I understand there are two 'modes' in Minecraft. Creative, or Peaceful, Mode, in which you mine and collect materials in order to build other things, and Survival Mode, where apparently you do the same thing only with zombies trying to kill you. You have to eat. You have to sleep. There are rules to be followed and proper behavior and social conventions to adhere to. Once in a while my son will yell "I found diamonds!", and in spite of myself I'll get really excited for about 5 seconds before I realize it's complete bullsh-t, and what our household has really found is an online obsession that is so engaging my child would being willing to chew off someone's face to play it. Like bathsalts.

When my child is not building elaborate models of skyscrapers and ships, he is watching Youtube videos of other people building elaborate models of skyscrapers and ships. He once built an entire full sized 747 airplane from scratch, and included a "snack room" serving locally sourced chicken eggs, as well as a cockpit hot tub for the pilot which had the convenient design component of being connected to directly to the sewage system.

He is mining materials to craft all sorts of useful stuff at his virtual crafting table, like yarn for carpeting in his home, or apples to eat. After hours of building, he burns his creations to the ground, solemnly and thoughtfully watching them crackling into oblivion on his screen like a Viking watching a funeral pyre at sea.

"So, you can make glass out of sand and fire?" I ask.

"Yes. Or you can make a pickaxe out of wood and iron," my son explains, sounding a little bit condescending, like he's explaining string theory to a poodle.

"How about juniper berries and quinine?" I ask, thinking that being able to scavenger a gin and tonic could be fun. No such luck, apparently.

There are Minecraft stars--online masters of the game that my son and his peers speak of in hushed, respectful tones. This is the upper echelon of Minecraft gamers who I personally like to imagine are elementary school kids all over the world lounging in their living rooms with all the luxurious trappings befitting such status, tapping out YouTube videos for their hoards of fans with one hand, and casually snacking on their Lunchables with the other.

Would I feel as concerned about an obsession if my child was obsessed with books? Probably not. I hear myself announcing to nobody in particular, "When I was young, I didn't have Minecraft, and I was just fine!". Though I didn't have Minecraft, I did have the other MTV. I watched music videos straight through from 1981 to 1985 at my neighbor Tracy's house, risking bladder failure daily in fear of missing out on something rad. In fact, if I was to be entirely truthful, I would admit that I lost the entire summer of 1985 to Wham!, Cyndi Lauper, and Martha Quinn's pixie cut.

In spite of this, except for a couple of hair choices which did irreparable damage to my hair follicles, as well as some long since abandoned ear piercings, I'd insist I'm no worse for the wear. My creative facilities remained intact, and I grew up to be a reasonably functioning adult. Is this Minecraft thing any different?

Like 80s kids discussing a Dire Strait's video (What are those? Hawaiian noises?), Minecraft is a cultural reference point which seems necessary for grade school kids to speak today's lingo with one's peers. For myself, having a child who hasn't been particularly successful in the past with connecting socially with other kids, the Minecraft experience has suddenly evened the playing field for him and turned his obsessive geekiness into a social virtue. He now enjoys a sense of mature camaraderie with his school friends not unlike grown men standing around the water cooler discussing what dicks the Yankees are.

There's also some talk bandied about regarding Minecraft inadvertently teaching coding concepts, as well as opening up new ways of teaching academic materials to children through problem solving. In Sweden, they have incorporated Minecraft into public school teaching aids. This is the same country who brought us SAAB fighter jets, thin, delicious berry-covered pancakes, and ABBA, so I'm generally cautiously optimistic about most innovation coming out of there. I'll be interested to see if this eventually turns into a viable teaching tool rather than simply a licensed product cash cow for Walmart. Perhaps there is room for both.

The jury is still out for me. For now I simply monitor the activity, set time limits, and balance it all with plenty of time outdoor playing in the real world. Is it working? Is that the way you do it? Lemme tell ya them guys ain't dumb. Maybe get a blister on your little finger. Maybe get a blister on your thumb.

Anneli Skaar is a graphic designer living and working Camden who spends a significant amount of her time trying to establish a functional balance between single motherhood, career and sanity.