I was twelve when I fell in love with my first computer game, a detective mystery called Murder on the Zinderneuf which dominated our family Commodore 64 in the late '80s. In the game, you chose one of eight detective identities, then prowled around a massive blimp (the titular Zinderneuf), interviewing suspects with names like Buck Battle and Stephie Hart-Winston ("a red-haired aviatrix with a crack shot"). Zinderneuf made me feel important, glamorous, fraught with responsibility – an imagined glimpse at adulthood combined with the pure joy of playing. Stephie's sexy tresses aside, the game was as genderless as Pong or later favourites like Tetris.
Then, in the '90s, the gaming landscape changed, becoming both bigger and narrower. Sports and shooter games – testosterone-fueled epics like FIFA World Cup, Tekken, Halo – spiked in popularity, and I slowly abandoned my joystick. Over the next two decades, consoles were ruled by pixelated male fantasies: Men tougher than beef jerky, with perpetually knit brows and 24-inch pythons, and the odd Lara Croft type who kicked ass, took names, showed skin.
The games themselves were tech marvels, smashing the boundaries of design and innovation. They were also a lot of fun. But something happened on the way to male gaming supremacy: Girls like me stopped playing, and most younger girls never started. Today, less than 12 percent of girls in North America play video games, and in the U.K., the figure is just under six percent.
"Men wrapped their arms around the technology," explains Kirsten Forbes, a 15-year gaming industry vet and the co-founder, with Brenda Bailey Gershkovitch, of Vancouver-based Silicon Sisters, the first all-female gaming studio in North America. "I don't think they maliciously excluded women. They just made the type of games they wanted to play."
Kirsten Forbes and Brenda Bailey Gershkovitch, the co-founders of Silicon Sisters, photographed near their studio in Vancouver for Hardly by Johann Wall.
Then, in the '90s, the gaming landscape changed, becoming both bigger and narrower. Sports and shooter games – testosterone-fueled epics like FIFA World Cup, Tekken, Halo – spiked in popularity, and I slowly abandoned my joystick. Over the next two decades, consoles were ruled by pixelated male fantasies: Men tougher than beef jerky, with perpetually knit brows and 24-inch pythons, and the odd Lara Croft type who kicked ass, took names, showed skin.
The games themselves were tech marvels, smashing the boundaries of design and innovation. They were also a lot of fun. But something happened on the way to male gaming supremacy: Girls like me stopped playing, and most younger girls never started. Today, less than 12 percent of girls in North America play video games, and in the U.K., the figure is just under six percent.
"Men wrapped their arms around the technology," explains Kirsten Forbes, a 15-year gaming industry vet and the co-founder, with Brenda Bailey Gershkovitch, of Vancouver-based Silicon Sisters, the first all-female gaming studio in North America. "I don't think they maliciously excluded women. They just made the type of games they wanted to play."
Now, the gaming universe is expanding yet again, thanks in part to the Wii phenom and unisex breakthroughs like Guitar Hero. (The increased ease of downloading helps too – newbie girls are more likely to buy a game on their iPhone than trek to EBGames in the mall.) Silicon Sisters, founded in 2010, is one of the most exciting signs of growing gaming equality: Kirsten and Brenda are all about creating games made by women for women. The only caveat? Empowerment isn't enough – the games need to be excellent.
The first is School 26, which launched this spring and is now available for iOS and Android (and coming soon to PC and Mac). The story centres around Kate, a tween navigating her 26th new school and the usual minefield of friends, crushes, and bullies. Kirsten and Brenda understand what every kid knows: The only thing that's scarier than a 300-pound intergalactic ork? High school.
Kirsten: "I've been so lucky – I've worked with amazing guys. When I was an executive producer, I was leading huge teams of 100 guys and the fact that I was a woman was never an issue. I don't have any war stories!"
Brenda: "A lot of the guys I've worked with have become like brothers to me. I love them. But I've had a few bad experiences. About four years ago, I went down to L.A. for a big E3 conference. They were launching Guitar Hero – I hadn't tried it and it looked really cool, so I waited in line to get into this party bus where they were doing demos. At first it was great – I loved the game and everyone, including me, was rocking out.
Then I realized that I was the only chick on the bus – like, oh there's that vibe again. Then one of the guys said, 'You know what would make this experience even better? If you took off all your clothes.' I've got 20 guys just looking at me and I couldn't speak. I had three degrees, three children, I'd worked in this industry for years. It really pissed me off. That happened when I was 39, but if I had been 20, I don't know if I would have wanted to stay in the industry. You wonder why there aren't many women, but attitudes like that can really scare them off."
The first is School 26, which launched this spring and is now available for iOS and Android (and coming soon to PC and Mac). The story centres around Kate, a tween navigating her 26th new school and the usual minefield of friends, crushes, and bullies. Kirsten and Brenda understand what every kid knows: The only thing that's scarier than a 300-pound intergalactic ork? High school.
Kirsten: "I've been so lucky – I've worked with amazing guys. When I was an executive producer, I was leading huge teams of 100 guys and the fact that I was a woman was never an issue. I don't have any war stories!"
Brenda: "A lot of the guys I've worked with have become like brothers to me. I love them. But I've had a few bad experiences. About four years ago, I went down to L.A. for a big E3 conference. They were launching Guitar Hero – I hadn't tried it and it looked really cool, so I waited in line to get into this party bus where they were doing demos. At first it was great – I loved the game and everyone, including me, was rocking out.
Then I realized that I was the only chick on the bus – like, oh there's that vibe again. Then one of the guys said, 'You know what would make this experience even better? If you took off all your clothes.' I've got 20 guys just looking at me and I couldn't speak. I had three degrees, three children, I'd worked in this industry for years. It really pissed me off. That happened when I was 39, but if I had been 20, I don't know if I would have wanted to stay in the industry. You wonder why there aren't many women, but attitudes like that can really scare them off."
