2022 Issue 5 Sept/Oct Focus - Mid-South magazine

community
How Pokémon
Became
My Safe Place
by Moth Moth Moth
My version of counting
sheep is building Pokémon
teams in my mind until I
drift off. Ever since I was
younger it’s been the most
peaceful way for me to
relax. I know the first 251
pokes front to back. From
Bulbasuar to Celebi. This
franchise has been a part
of my life forever.
The simple Game Boy
cartridges from the ’90s
era of Pokémon seem like
fantastical items when
compared to the digital
downloads of my current
game library.
I believe that our
relationships with pieces of
media are a precious part
of the human experience.
Our ancestors collected
pretty rocks in a cave
for no other reason than
comfort and imagination.
My mother is the one
who supplied me with the
two most important games
of my life.
During Christmas when I
was 5, I received a classic
purple Game Boy Color and
my copy of Pokémon Blue.
The square cartridge felt
like a sacred and breakable
object in my clumsy baby
hands. When I realized it
was a very reading-heavy
game I did not let it perturb
me for quickly inside the
space of that cartridge I
found a sense of home.
Even now I can close my
eyes and run through all
the parts of the game in
my head. A world made of
colorful pixels and chiptune
music. My first starter
was Bulbasaur I believe,
though I quickly restarted
to try out Charmander or
Squirtle. The first Pokémon
I caught myself, having my
mother read the sentences
on the screen to help me
understand, was a Nindoran.
I was a lonesome kid.
Back then we didn’t realize
that I was disabled. I got
labeled odd or a loner a lot.
Sometimes kids and other
parents would use the “r”
word to refer to me and my
interests. I hated every day
of school and found my
peers to be overwhelming
and cruel. Adults seemed
to never stop rolling their
eyes at me.
photo by Jackson McMinn
16 Nerds! | focuslgbt.com