{"id":1010,"date":"2020-04-13T15:11:27","date_gmt":"2020-04-13T15:11:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/suny-esc-introtocollegereadingandwriting\/?post_type=chapter&p=1010"},"modified":"2020-08-06T19:00:54","modified_gmt":"2020-08-06T19:00:54","slug":"piracy-gave-me-a-future","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/suny-esc-introtocollegereadingandwriting\/chapter\/piracy-gave-me-a-future\/","title":{"raw":"Piracy Gave Me A Future","rendered":"Piracy Gave Me A Future"},"content":{"raw":"

by Daniel Starkey<\/em><\/p>\r\n\r\n

\r\n
\"\"<\/div>\r\n
\r\n\r\nPoverty traps its victims in intellectual dead zones. I don\u2019t pirate games anymore, but when I needed it, it gave me access to the literature and artistic inspiration of my generation.As a kid, I stole from everyone.\r\n\r\nAn unattended purse in a restaurant? Easy $5. Pok\u00e9mon cards at Target? Pocketed. I even marked my best friends, waking up early on days I\u2019d sleep over to rifle through their house to see what I could nab.\r\n\r\n\u201cI need this,\u201d I\u2019d tell myself.\r\n\r\nFor a time, that thin justification worked. My family didn\u2019t have any money, and when the Pok\u00e9mon craze hit, I wanted in. Everyone else had massive collections, but all I had was a single starter deck I\u2019d coaxed my babysitter into buying me (it was the one with Ninetails). Ashamed to pull out my paltry collection in front of the other kids, jealousy fueled me.\r\n\r\nAfter each snag, I\u2019d put on airs and feign ignorance long enough for suspicion to drop. I was, after all, just a kid. Few suspected how much I\u2019d taken. Eventually, I stopped stealing, at least in such direct, aggressive ways. I didn\u2019t outgrow that class consciousness, though. I knew when others had something I didn\u2019t, and I was still jealous.\r\n\r\nIt was more than just jealousy, of course. Being poor and acutely aware of that fact as a child is a strange experience. You know enough to understand that there\u2019s injustice, but you don\u2019t yet know why or how it happened. Much less what you can do about it. I had a hard time understanding that it wasn\u2019t my fault, and to a large degree not my mom\u2019s either. Instead, it left me feeling less valuable than my other classmates. Their access to art, books, movies and games that I couldn\u2019t afford left me feeling alone and confused: Was I somehow less deserving? So I exercised the one bit of agency I had in my life. I stole.\r\n\r\nThings started to change for me in middle school. I was accepted into a charter school, founded with the purpose of lifting kids up out of poverty with education. We were required to learn Latin and wear school uniforms, but most of us were still from the inner city. Classmates often came from broken homes, and many, like me, didn\u2019t know their fathers. I felt comfortable, oddly secure for the first time in my life.\r\n\r\nThat year was also the same that my mom got her first computer. On the few occasions she\u2019d give up control of the PC, I\u2019d scour the internet looking new things to learn. I had an insatiable appetite for ideas, though I\u2019d spent most of my life with limited ways to feed it. Even before I started stealing Pok\u00e9mon cards, I would often just sit down and read encyclopedias when I got the chance. I was desperate, starved for knowledge and culture.\r\n\r\nThe Internet said I didn\u2019t have to be hungry; it was a tool that opened up the world. I didn\u2019t need money to read books through\u00a0Project Gutenberg<\/a>, or search the web for answers to questions I\u2019d always been afraid to ask. And, I soon discovered, I didn\u2019t necessarily need money to play computer games either, so long as I was willing to pirate them.\r\n\r\nIn a way, downloading games didn\u2019t feel that different from searching the web for information. The internet held out the promise of free and equal access to information, and piracy seemed like a natural extension of my quest for knowledge. I wanted to experience art and culture that spoke to me just as much as I wanted answers to my questions. And suddenly I could have them all: I was a nameless, faceless entity, free of the chains of my economic class. Piracy was freeing.\r\n\r\nA couple years later, my mom had an accident and ended up taking more than a year off from work. Money got tighter than ever, and there was no way she could afford to replace her computer as it aged into obsolescence. Soon it was too out of date to play newer games, and I felt alone again, unable to participate in the culture building and growing around me. I wasn\u2019t yet old enough to hold a job myself, and when I asked my mom for an allowance, she responded with a somber look that said, \u201cWith what money?\u201d It wasn\u2019t that she didn\u2019t want to give me more\u2014every parent does\u2014she simply couldn\u2019t. So I went back to stealing.\r\n\r\nBefore too long I had $300 as well as a spare monitor and case, enough to build a basic system. My first pirated PC game was\u00a0Deus Ex<\/em>. I\u2019d heard about it a few times, and it sounded interesting. \u201cA game about politics,\u201d was how a friend pitched it to me, though it\u2019s also been described as a \u201ccyberpunk-themed action role-playing video game.\u201d Within a few hours I had it running on my cobbled together PC, and it was a revelation.\r\n\r\nDeus Ex<\/em>\u00a0was the first game I\u2019d seen that listed its primary influences, which included philosophers like Hobbes, Voltaire, Locke. They were wealthy men, to be sure, but learning about their work set me on the path to learning about sociology, about history, about how much all media is one long chain of slightly modified ideas, with each new link adding a new twist or perspective. The game\u2019s themes also spoke to some of the most personal concerns of my life, including economic class, injustice, about the disempowered fighting against a wealthy ruling class.\r\n\r\nIt was also a game where actions had serious consequences, and taking the quick, easy path could cause enormous harm to innocent bystanders. It was a message I took to heart. Playing through\u00a0Deus Ex<\/em>\u00a0helped me realize that there are always consequences you can\u2019t quite see, and that my thefts over the years had surely left a wake of victims who had suffered\u2014particularly the ones where I had taken physical goods and money. If they worked for minimum wage, even my quick, pilfered fiver could have been an hour or more of their life.\r\n\r\nBut what I learned from the game also helped solidify my belief that online piracy, at least in the context of my own circumstances, was still justified. Yes, downloading an illicit digital work can cause a sort of a harm to the creators or corporations that aren\u2019t receiving revenue, particularly independent developers, but when I weighed it against the desperation of my poverty and the worthlessness it made me internalize, there was no comparison.\r\n\r\nEven in independent games, piracy isn\u2019t always as cut and dry as it seems. While it can have\u00a0big impacts<\/a>\u00a0on some games, other small developers have discovered\u00a0counterintuitive benefits<\/a>\u00a0to piracy,\u00a0embraced it<\/a>, or at least become more empathetic to it.\r\n\r\nSome, perhaps most, people in industrialized countries have the luxury of seeking out media they care about and stories that speak to them, and they can afford to support that work with their money. But for others like me, it can feel like a seemingly insurmountable struggle. To live even in relative poverty deprives of you new ideas; it deprives you of the tools and education you need to escape. In the most severe cases, it locks you out of society\u2014out of voting, out of socializing, and out of connecting with others.\r\n\r\nPoverty is often cyclical because it traps its victims in intellectual dead zones. We know that without stimulation and without challenge, the mind, like the belly, starves.\r\n\r\nI don\u2019t pirate games anymore, and I don\u2019t support pirating games if you can afford to buy them. But when I needed it, piracy gave me hope. When I considered dropping out of high school, giving up on my future, and damning myself to repeat the cycle of poverty, I was able to look back on the sea of literature and countless games I\u2019d downloaded for answers and inspiration. They not only helped me realize that I wasn\u2019t as alone as I thought, but allowed me to develop the fluency necessary to start making informed, critical works of my own.\r\n\r\nI wasn\u2019t just taking the easy way out by pirating, because the way I had to travel wasn\u2019t easy any way you look at it. I was trying to equalize a playing field that I knew was stacked against me. Piracy helped do that, by giving me access to art and books and games that allowed me to better myself, and inspired me to become who I am today.\r\n\r\nPiracy gave me a future.\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>","rendered":"

by Daniel Starkey<\/em><\/p>\n

\n
\"\"<\/div>\n
\n

Poverty traps its victims in intellectual dead zones. I don\u2019t pirate games anymore, but when I needed it, it gave me access to the literature and artistic inspiration of my generation.As a kid, I stole from everyone.<\/p>\n

An unattended purse in a restaurant? Easy $5. Pok\u00e9mon cards at Target? Pocketed. I even marked my best friends, waking up early on days I\u2019d sleep over to rifle through their house to see what I could nab.<\/p>\n

\u201cI need this,\u201d I\u2019d tell myself.<\/p>\n

For a time, that thin justification worked. My family didn\u2019t have any money, and when the Pok\u00e9mon craze hit, I wanted in. Everyone else had massive collections, but all I had was a single starter deck I\u2019d coaxed my babysitter into buying me (it was the one with Ninetails). Ashamed to pull out my paltry collection in front of the other kids, jealousy fueled me.<\/p>\n

After each snag, I\u2019d put on airs and feign ignorance long enough for suspicion to drop. I was, after all, just a kid. Few suspected how much I\u2019d taken. Eventually, I stopped stealing, at least in such direct, aggressive ways. I didn\u2019t outgrow that class consciousness, though. I knew when others had something I didn\u2019t, and I was still jealous.<\/p>\n

It was more than just jealousy, of course. Being poor and acutely aware of that fact as a child is a strange experience. You know enough to understand that there\u2019s injustice, but you don\u2019t yet know why or how it happened. Much less what you can do about it. I had a hard time understanding that it wasn\u2019t my fault, and to a large degree not my mom\u2019s either. Instead, it left me feeling less valuable than my other classmates. Their access to art, books, movies and games that I couldn\u2019t afford left me feeling alone and confused: Was I somehow less deserving? So I exercised the one bit of agency I had in my life. I stole.<\/p>\n

Things started to change for me in middle school. I was accepted into a charter school, founded with the purpose of lifting kids up out of poverty with education. We were required to learn Latin and wear school uniforms, but most of us were still from the inner city. Classmates often came from broken homes, and many, like me, didn\u2019t know their fathers. I felt comfortable, oddly secure for the first time in my life.<\/p>\n

That year was also the same that my mom got her first computer. On the few occasions she\u2019d give up control of the PC, I\u2019d scour the internet looking new things to learn. I had an insatiable appetite for ideas, though I\u2019d spent most of my life with limited ways to feed it. Even before I started stealing Pok\u00e9mon cards, I would often just sit down and read encyclopedias when I got the chance. I was desperate, starved for knowledge and culture.<\/p>\n

The Internet said I didn\u2019t have to be hungry; it was a tool that opened up the world. I didn\u2019t need money to read books through\u00a0Project Gutenberg<\/a>, or search the web for answers to questions I\u2019d always been afraid to ask. And, I soon discovered, I didn\u2019t necessarily need money to play computer games either, so long as I was willing to pirate them.<\/p>\n

In a way, downloading games didn\u2019t feel that different from searching the web for information. The internet held out the promise of free and equal access to information, and piracy seemed like a natural extension of my quest for knowledge. I wanted to experience art and culture that spoke to me just as much as I wanted answers to my questions. And suddenly I could have them all: I was a nameless, faceless entity, free of the chains of my economic class. Piracy was freeing.<\/p>\n

A couple years later, my mom had an accident and ended up taking more than a year off from work. Money got tighter than ever, and there was no way she could afford to replace her computer as it aged into obsolescence. Soon it was too out of date to play newer games, and I felt alone again, unable to participate in the culture building and growing around me. I wasn\u2019t yet old enough to hold a job myself, and when I asked my mom for an allowance, she responded with a somber look that said, \u201cWith what money?\u201d It wasn\u2019t that she didn\u2019t want to give me more\u2014every parent does\u2014she simply couldn\u2019t. So I went back to stealing.<\/p>\n

Before too long I had $300 as well as a spare monitor and case, enough to build a basic system. My first pirated PC game was\u00a0Deus Ex<\/em>. I\u2019d heard about it a few times, and it sounded interesting. \u201cA game about politics,\u201d was how a friend pitched it to me, though it\u2019s also been described as a \u201ccyberpunk-themed action role-playing video game.\u201d Within a few hours I had it running on my cobbled together PC, and it was a revelation.<\/p>\n

Deus Ex<\/em>\u00a0was the first game I\u2019d seen that listed its primary influences, which included philosophers like Hobbes, Voltaire, Locke. They were wealthy men, to be sure, but learning about their work set me on the path to learning about sociology, about history, about how much all media is one long chain of slightly modified ideas, with each new link adding a new twist or perspective. The game\u2019s themes also spoke to some of the most personal concerns of my life, including economic class, injustice, about the disempowered fighting against a wealthy ruling class.<\/p>\n

It was also a game where actions had serious consequences, and taking the quick, easy path could cause enormous harm to innocent bystanders. It was a message I took to heart. Playing through\u00a0Deus Ex<\/em>\u00a0helped me realize that there are always consequences you can\u2019t quite see, and that my thefts over the years had surely left a wake of victims who had suffered\u2014particularly the ones where I had taken physical goods and money. If they worked for minimum wage, even my quick, pilfered fiver could have been an hour or more of their life.<\/p>\n

But what I learned from the game also helped solidify my belief that online piracy, at least in the context of my own circumstances, was still justified. Yes, downloading an illicit digital work can cause a sort of a harm to the creators or corporations that aren\u2019t receiving revenue, particularly independent developers, but when I weighed it against the desperation of my poverty and the worthlessness it made me internalize, there was no comparison.<\/p>\n

Even in independent games, piracy isn\u2019t always as cut and dry as it seems. While it can have\u00a0big impacts<\/a>\u00a0on some games, other small developers have discovered\u00a0counterintuitive benefits<\/a>\u00a0to piracy,\u00a0embraced it<\/a>, or at least become more empathetic to it.<\/p>\n

Some, perhaps most, people in industrialized countries have the luxury of seeking out media they care about and stories that speak to them, and they can afford to support that work with their money. But for others like me, it can feel like a seemingly insurmountable struggle. To live even in relative poverty deprives of you new ideas; it deprives you of the tools and education you need to escape. In the most severe cases, it locks you out of society\u2014out of voting, out of socializing, and out of connecting with others.<\/p>\n

Poverty is often cyclical because it traps its victims in intellectual dead zones. We know that without stimulation and without challenge, the mind, like the belly, starves.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t pirate games anymore, and I don\u2019t support pirating games if you can afford to buy them. But when I needed it, piracy gave me hope. When I considered dropping out of high school, giving up on my future, and damning myself to repeat the cycle of poverty, I was able to look back on the sea of literature and countless games I\u2019d downloaded for answers and inspiration. They not only helped me realize that I wasn\u2019t as alone as I thought, but allowed me to develop the fluency necessary to start making informed, critical works of my own.<\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t just taking the easy way out by pirating, because the way I had to travel wasn\u2019t easy any way you look at it. I was trying to equalize a playing field that I knew was stacked against me. Piracy helped do that, by giving me access to art and books and games that allowed me to better myself, and inspired me to become who I am today.<\/p>\n

Piracy gave me a future.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\t\t\t

\n\t\t\t

Candela Citations<\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
CC licensed content, Shared previously<\/div>