I doubt it needs stating-- but I’ll state it anyway for those out of the loop--- but Pokémon Go, Nintendo’s newest creation, has taken the nation by storm. A fusion between a map-based walking simulator and a Pokémon game, the augmented reality (or “AR”) game allows players to travel around their real-world environment in search of Pokémon which are peppered around the world. Catching Pokémon, powering them up, seeking supplies at Pokestops (waypoints at local venues like post offices, churches, and restaurants) and battling for control of gyms (arenas placed at locations of interest like monuments and businesses) are all regular tasks of Pokémon trainers of every age in every city and state.
As can be expected of such an unusual game-- one of the first and now most popular of the augmented reality market-- it produces some unusual circumstances. Hordes of young people, stereotyped as being indoor creatures, are seen scouring parks and beaches for new Pokémon. Introverts who would normally be at home are instead out at a local Pokémon gym, meeting other trainers who become fast friends.
But for me, the most unusual impact of all was also the most magical.
I had just gotten the game the day before. My mother asked if I wanted to go to the beach, which was one of her favorite pastimes but not one I had indulged in much since I was young. I wanted to find some Pokémon and scout out new areas, though, and the popular beach nearby seemed like a good stop. When I agreed to go with her, she was almost flabbergasted-- her son? Wanting to go… outside? In the sun? For several hours?
I chuckled along and set up with her on the shore a little bit away from the main area, where there were less people. I explained to her what the game was, and that I was going to be walking down the area to find new catches, and she came along with me. She was amazed by the augmented reality of the game, how the Eevees and Rattatas appeared right there on the sand, in the water, on the driftwood. I explained each aspect of the game to her, answering her questions as they came. After a wasted half hour on the sand with only a handful of catches to show for it, she and I spent some time relaxing on the shore.
Later, when we were ready to go, we spent some more time up on the boardwalk area, where I found plenty of supply stops to stock up at. In addition, there was a gym on the boardwalk, where a dozen or so kids my age and younger were collected to battle and claim the gym for their respective teams. We saw dozens more walking up and down the walk, and my mother was gawking with wonder-- all these people, these young people, all out and about? She could hardly contain her excitement and joy. As we drove home, she commented on how this was the most time we had spent together in a long, long time, and how happy she was I came.
The next few days, I’d cycle around town, and she’d ask about my adventures. Eventually, I explained to her that she could get the app herself. She was a bit hesitant, but the next day texted me saying she had got it and had some questions. I answered them just as readily as before, and hours later, she told me she had caught a few. She also thanked me for spending the time with her and letting her experience this game, saying it brought her laughter and joy in a time where those things were in short supply.
Not only had I exposed my mother to something which has gone on to make her smile and laugh, but she showed that I could show her some of my world and not regret it. For the first time in a long time, I had something to bond with (one of) my parents over. In a household in disarray and disconnect, that’s a precious thing that makes me feel things I can’t describe. It’s a ray of sunshine and a moment of peace in a bad storm, and I owe it all to the Pokémon of the world, and the insatiable desire to catch them all. While video games and “staring at phone screens” often get bad reps, I hope that people can appreciate the unifying power of a game that brings communities-- and families-- together.
