CharlesRyan
Adventurer
Last week, poet, playwright, and filmmaker Sherman Alexie came to WotC and gave a talk entitled “How D&D Saved My Life.” In it, he discussed (with great humor—turns out he also gets gigs as a standup comedian) growing up on a reservation in the grip of crushing poverty, broken families, alcoholism, and despair. In that context he discovered D&D, which awoke in him the creativity, sense of wonder, and desire to seek out and succeed in higher education and a more hopeful life.
I happened to be thinking about that when I was in Starbucks the other day. They have a donation basket there, where you can leave toys and games to be donated to needy children. Starbucks isn’t unique in this, of course—my wife works at the fire department, which also collects toys and gifts for less fortunate children.
The two ideas connect. What could be a better gift for a child with limited horizons than D&D, a game that inspires wonder, creativity, intellectual curiosity, and empowerment? At the very least, D&D isn’t just a toy that's fun for a few months—it’s a hobby that can engage a young person for years. By any definition, a great donation to a needy kid—and this year, D&D comes in a new, easy-to-start (and easy-to-give) form: the Basic Game.
I’ve purchased two copies of the Basic Game for these programs. If you find yourself inclined to donate to programs like this, I encourage you to consider the Basic Game for your donation. You might give a kid a type of lasting joy and inspiration that no toy fire engine or Barbie doll ever could, and bolster the ranks of fellow D&D players while you’re at it.
(A caveat: I’m the Brand Manager for D&D, so it might be easy to suspect that my motives are less than pure. Sure, I want to sell D&D products, but the Basic Game, with its low price point and high cost of goods, isn’t a big money maker for us—I’m not going rake in a bunch of cash by convincing a few gamers to give away a few copies. And yes, I want to see D&D grow, but frankly, getting kids too poor to buy toys into the game isn’t the path to riches either. Mostly, I just want to expose people to the enriching qualities of the roleplaying hobby. And do a little good along the way.)
I happened to be thinking about that when I was in Starbucks the other day. They have a donation basket there, where you can leave toys and games to be donated to needy children. Starbucks isn’t unique in this, of course—my wife works at the fire department, which also collects toys and gifts for less fortunate children.
The two ideas connect. What could be a better gift for a child with limited horizons than D&D, a game that inspires wonder, creativity, intellectual curiosity, and empowerment? At the very least, D&D isn’t just a toy that's fun for a few months—it’s a hobby that can engage a young person for years. By any definition, a great donation to a needy kid—and this year, D&D comes in a new, easy-to-start (and easy-to-give) form: the Basic Game.
I’ve purchased two copies of the Basic Game for these programs. If you find yourself inclined to donate to programs like this, I encourage you to consider the Basic Game for your donation. You might give a kid a type of lasting joy and inspiration that no toy fire engine or Barbie doll ever could, and bolster the ranks of fellow D&D players while you’re at it.
(A caveat: I’m the Brand Manager for D&D, so it might be easy to suspect that my motives are less than pure. Sure, I want to sell D&D products, but the Basic Game, with its low price point and high cost of goods, isn’t a big money maker for us—I’m not going rake in a bunch of cash by convincing a few gamers to give away a few copies. And yes, I want to see D&D grow, but frankly, getting kids too poor to buy toys into the game isn’t the path to riches either. Mostly, I just want to expose people to the enriching qualities of the roleplaying hobby. And do a little good along the way.)