Rachel Mercer

As a kid, though I was unable to play the games that were deemed to "mature" for a child my age (I was about 5 or 6) I still was incredibly interested in the medium. So much so in fact that, more often than not, you would be able to find me sitting next to my Dad watching him play through a particularly difficult level in Quake or Time Crisis -- because hey, a contact high is still a high, right? My family purchased their first game console for my 8th birthday, the Sega Genesis and from that point forward I was hooked -- this love carried over into the PlayStation and thereafter the Xbox Franchise (sorry, we never owned a Nintendo console until the Wii -- much to the detriment of my credibility as a geek).

My interest waned when I got to college, where I realized that I had neither the time nor the cash to invest on the activities that I once did, though every winter break one would find me slobbering over the latest game trade magazines and playing every new release I could blow my Christmas cash on. I even worked at Game Stop for a summer, mostly for the added benefit of being able to take even brand-new games home for "testing" (and of course the .25cent pay hike that I received because, well, I had boobs.)

More recently, I made the return to games during my down time -- as a necessary "off period" where I can take a breather from my (very hectic) daily life, and kick back for a set amount of time. In doing this, I've noticed several reactions to games which seem to be intertwined with my everyday life. I hold a strong belief that "growing up gamer" has effectively changed how I interact with the world on a daily basis through three key elements of gaming: Task-Setting, Competition, and Collection.

Task-Setting

In mostly every game that you've ever played (except for the occasional puzzler), the player is confronted with a series of goals to overcome. In RPG's like Oblivion or Fable these are "Quests", in FPS's such as Call of Duty or the Halo Franchise these are "Missions", but the blanket term I'm going to use to refer to them is objectives. Because of this set structure, and eventual pursuit and accomplishment of each objective provides the player (myself) with the Serotonin reward packet delivered to your neuron receptors that comes paired with achievement.  

For me, this task-setting applies to my every day life in objects like to-do lists and other more abstract constructs such as task organization -- viewing the big picture of my end goal (the quest) and breaking it down into easy-to-digest bite sized bits which allow me  to tackle each one at a time (objectives). So not only does gaming allow me to effectively apply goal-setting methods for myself, but also provides me with the basic idea of how to break it down in order to tackle each point. The sense of achievement in the end comes paired with the second aspect of gaming that affects my everyday life, competition.

Competition

With the advent of being able to play your games online, and through new features such as "Achievements" -- game makers have essentially tapped into the naturally competitive nature of human beings. As a self-proclaimed completionist, this typically leads to what could be considered obsessive acts of competition such as unlocking every achievement in Oblivion, or purposefully working to not have the lowest score in the rosters for Geometry Wars. One of my friends frequently refers to my lifestyle (and overall mentality) as a "gotta get more points" set of values.

This sense of competition has carried over into how I've tackled classes at school. My first semester at college, I was neither ready for the intensity of studio classes, nor prepared for the overall time commitment -- and essentially found myself stuck in the not-so-hot-less-than-3.0 GPA range. Determined not to lose my scholarship, I decided to take a new tactic in each of these classes -- much like viewing other's badges in XBox Live, I'd compare myself to other student's work in the class. If I wasn't in the top 10%, I'd rework my concepts and try to come back with something better, if the grade reflected a change, I'd reward myself (with a movie, dinner out, or a party on both Friday and Saturday night). In this, I was able to effectively hack myself to apply a gaming logic -- and I have to admit it's worked (I am now .02 GPA points away from graduating Magna Cum Laude). These competition (and achievement) aspects of gaming are also directly coorelated to the final element: collection.

Collection

Practically every game developed over time includes a collection element, whether it be Rupees in Zelda (wealth), XP Orbs in Fable (Experience), or Blue Bouncing Mental Health Points in Psychonauts (health). So, not only is my character's development dependent on collection on these items, but their worth is as well. This is further reinforced by items such as FourSquare's Badge System, the XBox's Achievement Point System and Halo's Medaling Actions in multiplayer mode. These systems essentially serve as a platform for your credibility as a gamer -- anyone with less than 5K gamerscore surely can't refer to themselves as such, and your fully-unlocked achievement levels command the respect of others.

Similarly this applies to many other aspects of geek culture and life. In comic books, you can collect hardcover compendiums or single issues, and the first box of comics is seen as a milestone in your development as a collector. For my worklife, this desire to collect perceived achievements has lead to relative levels of success. We have a form at Northeastern where your boss must fill out a final evaluation -- checking off various things from work ethic, to communication skills, to overall hygiene and appearance (what?). These are all ranked on a 1-5 scale, with 5 being the highest, and I strive for at least 90% 5's in the final evaluation (because you know what, I don't care how fancy I dress -- I'm going to wear jeans sometimes). In the end, the system typically works.