The pandemic has forced my hand — all parents’ hands — in so many ways. Now every night is dessert night, potentially. There’s screen time during the week, where there (mostly) wasn’t before. We eat hot dogs for more meals than I care to admit.
And then there are the video games.
Up until March, we were fairly pro-Minecraft, Legends of Zelda, and Splatoon. But as any Nintendo Switch–wielding 9-year-old is apt to do, my son began begging for Fortnite, the blockbuster multiplayer shooter game that launched in 2017 and basically took over the world. We held off for months. That’s for older kids, honey. And You know how I feel about shooter games. I read Common Sense Media reviews. I debated with my husband. But then his best friend started playing, and we — I should say, I — relented.
To be honest, for a few weeks, it was miserable. But I’ve made peace with Fortnite recently, and here’s why.
He can connect with his friends
Honestly, this is the whole point. I try to give my kids as many opportunities to be safely social as possible, but really, it’s limited. I feel for them. Fortnite fills that need without issues around masks or distancing.
“This was 2020’s version of a play date and I was okay with it,” mom and freelance writer Michelle Hainer wrote in The Washington Post.
There’s social capital
I hear my son connecting with other kids in the lunchtime Zooms his school hosts most days. Dare I say, he almost sounds cool?
As a parent, I’m not alone
It’s been so nice to connect with other boy moms about the challenges, joys, and absurdities of this game.
I have leverage
The threat of no Fortnite is a truly powerful thing — and I know I need to use it both wisely and consistently.
“Remember that with video games you’re up against a potent competitor, and stick to your own guns,” writes Rachel Ehmke with the Child Mind Institute.
It’s a learning moment
Fortnite has given our family a reason to have really interesting conversations in the past six months — about violence, about privacy, about what it means to be addicted to something, about the difference between trash-talking that’s fun and the kind that’s decidedly not. Most of those topics seem abstract to a 9-year-old, but with Fortnite, it’s way more real.
He wants to talk to me, if I’m willing to listen
I know far too much about emotes (the gestures and dances that help your Fortnite characters express themeslves in Battle Royale mode) for a woman of my semi-advanced age, and about YouTube gamers like LazarBeam. And that’s OK. Some of the dances are kinda cool. Speaking of which…
He’s learning to dance
I mean, it’s not pretty — but I love that he’s trying. I watched Soul Train and Solid Gold, he’s got Fortnite. We’ve all gotta learn somehow.
There’s an end point
A friend with two boys gave me some insight that has really let me relax. Fortnite is a powerful force for the 9-year-old brain — especially if it’s their first time playing with friends on a team. It’s funny and addictive and feels culturally relevant in a way that, say, playing Minecraft alone isn’t. But by 13? Ehhh. They move on to other interests — ideally, in-person interests, post-pandemic. This is a season in a 21st-century child’s life. And, surprisingly, this mom is here for it.
