How to Run a Game (Part 17) - A Welcoming Environment
Maybe it's because I grew up during the Satanic Panic, maybe it's because I saw gaming books being burned (and even had my own books threatened), or maybe it's because many of the game groyps I've been a part of over the years have been filled with outsiders, introverts, members of mixed religious beliefs, and neuro-divergent folks (where multiple members ticked a few of those boxes).
I always try to make sure the atmosphere at my table is as welcoming as possible, and establish a safe liminal space for my games to take place in.
Liminal spaces are transitional or transformative spaces, and such places are often associated with a forlorn atmosphere, a disconnection from the concept of reality, and a fluid or sometimes neglected aesthetic. They are the waiting areas between one point in time and space and the next.
Liminal space works a few different ways, a hallway is considered a physical liminal space, but I'm thinking more in a ritual sense (I just couldn't find a quick quote that describes my idea). Examples might include the lights going dim at movie theatre, the music of the church organ at the start and end of a church service, settling down a class and preparing them for learning at school... each of these establishes an idea that what is about to be participated in is a event separate from the outside world, then the sequence unfolds in reverse to allow the participants to re-emerge in reality. It's about taking things seriously, it's about acknowledging that what's happening in the game stays in the game.
The liminal space is a fragile thing, and over decades of gaming I've seen numerous things help to establish it... or work to shatter it. Watching TV or scrolling on a mobile phone while it's "not your turn" are common culprits. Breaking for some food can be a culprit (but I've been a part of some great games that have utilized an expensive restaurant as a method to establish scene, and the food consumed has been a part of the liminal space experience). This is all related to the factors of immersion.
Some people are fine with distractions because they don't aim for immersive play experiences. We don't particularly need immersion for a game to be successful, nor do we need a game to be completely devoid of distractions, but I try to make sure the game is as resilient as possible. Once I know that something might jeopardise the play experience, it makes sense to minimise the potential issues that might arise.
There are certainly other ways to establish and maintain a welcoming environment, and elements other than immediate table distractions that can threaten that experience.
Reinforcing the Space
Friends. If everyone already knows each other and are a circle of friends then a general understanding of the intended game experience can be easily established. This is easily possible in a home group, where you can generally ensure everyone who is invited into the game is a part of the same social group, or knows each other well enough to know what might be good issues to explore in a game, or what areas of narrative might be off-limits.
Session Zero. I've mentioned a session zero previously in this series, it's basically the session before you start aging, where everyone agrees some general guidelines for the style of play and the style if narrative that can be expected from a campaign. If everyone knows that certain hot-button topics won't be mentioned during course of play, they'll tend to be more open with the elements that do arise.
The Table. Something as simple as sitting at a dedicated table can help to establish the ritualised liminal space. I've been in many sessions where games are played by people in lounges, sitting on the floor, or on picnic blankets. I've played games in fast-food restaurants, in classrooms, and even on public transport. While they can work, the game experience really didn't get immersive. As mentioned previously, I've also played in an expensive restaurant where the food was a part of the game experience, so this potential distracting factor was turned into a reinforcing element.
Routine. Same time, same place. If everyone knows that Thursday nights at 7pm is when the game starts, and the game goes for 4 to 5 hours, then they get into the headspace that this is when they need to focus on this particular activity. Sure, they don't have to turn up every session at 7pm on Thursday, but if they do it's game on. So many games I've seen have collapsed when schedules have changed and players start getting erratic.
Resolving stories. I've mentioned that I like a session to finish its story. Establishing the tone at the start of a session is one thing, but closing it off at the other end is something completely different. If you leave a game incomplete, or ending on a cliffhanger, the imagined space of the session is left hanging in an unsatisfying state. This might not ake much difference during the course of one session, but if you have a tendency to leave things unresolved it can set up additional tensions in later games. Players might start thinking that it's not worth putting the effort in if a game isn't going to be adequately concluded regardless of their decisions. This doesn't make for good play.
Maps. I've already considered these a few times through the series, but they definitely help to establish tone and the ritual space of the session. People expect maps and miniatures as a part of the game.
Threatening the Space
Phones. Phones can definitely have their positive sides. In the game I ran last week, one of the players had a dice rolling app on his phone, and that was convenient. Similarly, I've seen players looking up rules (especially regarding spells and equipment details) in complicated systems like D&D, but when it comes to reading and answering messages, it's probably not a good thing... having televisions or computers near the play space, could be similarly distracting.
Tensions from outside. Sometimes you just need to accept that people just aren't in the headspace for the type of escapism that a roleplaying session provides. In those cases, just do something else for the allocated time period. If you're a player bringing outside tensions to the table, consider staying home, or come along and watch the session so you can keep on top of the storyline developments. If you've got a good and supportive group, they'll understand. If you're the narrator, this can be a bit trickier if everyone is ready to play... but in this case it might be an idea to run a one-shot of something else, so that you don't disrupt the ongoing campaign with your distractions and tensions.
Arguments. When players, narrator, and rules all exist in a dynamic tension with one another, the mechanisms of play can organically twist and turn with the story to create an amazing game experience. However, when players argue with each other over rules, or when the finer details of plot are debated to the point of standstill, this risks the environment in which the game is running. If the narrator is running a good story and everyone is onboard, this probably won't be an issue, but if other distractions and threats to the space have already started disrupting the narrative flow, then moments like these can shatter the illusion.
Trying too hard. You might be playing a sinister game with a dark vibe, maybe even something bordering on horror or the supernatural. You turn down the lights to get players feeling the right way... but then they can't read their character sheets. Maybe you play some background music, which drowns out their words. You need to remember what the priorities are for the roleplaying experience. People need to be able to read their information and need to be able to communicate, and everything else needs to serve as an assistance to those ideas, not as competition for them.
All in all, creating a welcoming environment depends on the group. Roleplaying games are an intensely social activity, and I've seen all sorts of people welcomed into their various environments. They're places where people can experiment with choices, and where escapism helps them learn about the world around them (or at least the perspectives of the people in their group, and the presentation of the world through the mechanisms in the game system). It's the kind of hobby that doesn't rely on physical strength or fitness, and while it may help to have a smart approach to play, the only thing it really relies on is imagination.
Yes a roleplaying session can explore darkness, and serious elements, but it's meant to be fun.
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