We Don't Let Our Son Play 'Fortnite,' but Are We Costing Him His Social Life?
During the first week of school, I was hearing a lot of chatter from my then-7-year-old son about 'Fortnite.' He kept asking me if we could buy it. Since we’d recently moved back to the United States from Germany, I was clueless — I thought it was a new LEGO theme, like Ninjago or Bionicle. After a quick internet search, I quickly decided that my son couldn’t play the game.
Even though 'Fortnite' doesn’t have the blood and gore of other video games, it’s still an active shooter game, played over the internet, where it’s every man for himself and the goal is to kill each other. No matter what's right for other families, and no matter what experts say about whether or not there’s a connection between mass shootings and video games, the fact remains that 'Fortnite' sensationalizes violence, which does not reflect the values of my house.
When I announced my decision to my son, he came back with the standard arguments all kids have when they're forbidden from something their friends are doing.
“But everyone has it,” he complained. “Their moms are okay with it, why aren’t you?”
“Everyone’s house rules are different," I said, "and you will have other toys that not everyone else has.”
After the disappointment sunk in, he seemed to accept that'd he'd be subject to my 'Fortnite' ban. But he was still sensitive about the possibility of me imposing my rule on his friends — or even voicing my opinion about it. "That would be embarrassing, because their moms are okay with it," he said, with extra emphasis on the last part. In the end, we brainstormed some alternative things to play when his friends came over our house, like LEGO or soccer. I assumed the matter was settled.
But I began to wonder if I was actually costing him his social life. When my son told me that 'Fortnite' was all his friends talked about, I had my suspicions he was exaggerating just to gin up my sympathies. Then we had his friends over for his birthday party. It was true! His friends even gloated a little bit about it, right in front of my son. One boy, for example, explained that when his birthday rolled around, he wanted a 'Fortnite'-themed party, where they’d play the game the whole time.
“Oh yeah? How many controllers do you have?” I asked.
“Two,” he said.
“So, you’re only inviting one guest?”
“No, we can take turns.”
“That sounds like a great birthday party — only two playing and everyone else staring at a screen.” Remembering my son's plea not to embarrass him, I let the conversation stop there. In the absence of 'Fortnite,' the kids went down to the basement and played with the other assortment of toys we had down there. I didn’t see the boys for the rest of the party.
I see this pattern play out again and again: When my son’s friends come to the house, they first complain and are “bored” because I won’t allow them to play violent, first-shooter video games. (I’m not even one of those moms that hate video games either! My kids got the Nintendo NES Classic for Christmas a couple years ago, with all the old favorites including the original Super Mario Brothers. I’d rather have them shoot fireballs at turtles and pounce on mushrooms than hunt each other with a tommy gun.) They whine for a little. Then they end up finding something else to do. Riding bikes, playing ball, or building with LEGO bricks — my 'Fortnite' ban has forced them into finding more active, imaginative ways to play.
One by one, my son's friends have come around. On a beautiful day last fall, a neighbor boy came over wanting to play. It wasn’t long before I heard the dreaded question: “You don’t have 'Fortnite' here?”
“Nope,” I replied.
“Why not?”
“It’s not for us," I said.
“Can we go back to my house to play it?” he asked.
“No, I’d rather play outside,” my son said, and started to ride his bike outside. I tried to contain my pride.
The boy actually went back to his house and returned with a Nintendo Switch. He set it up in my garage, next to where I was fixing a seat on my daughter’s bike. I found it extremely odd he’d rather sit next to an old (but still cool!) mom while my son was riding his bike. But after a while, he joined my son outside for the remainder of the time. In the end, I'd like to believe they had more fun there than they would have if they'd been playing with the Switch.
And now, my son is the one who stops me from burying my face in a screen, too. When he finds me staring at my phone or watching TV, he complains and tells me to get off. He’s the one who initiates family game night most of the time. So if my 'Fortnite' ban costs him a few friends at school — and I don't think it does — but helps me stay connected to my son at this critical age, I think it's worth it.
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