select your weapon
The older sister-younger brother dynamic changed as we both grew older. No longer would he put up with my barbie games (and no longer did I myself play with barbie dolls). His interests included blasting the amp while playing guitar and xbox...lots of xbox.
It was often that I would hear his screaming into his headset to his friends on xbox live. I would walk by his room and see the images of exploding cars and running soldiers. I did not get it.
I would sometimes sit in his room and watch him play (trust me, watching someone play video games is far from entertaining). He would often ask me if I wanted to play as well. I always said no. A particular time, I walked in to find the familiar graphics of Call of Duty Black Ops, sat down, and was thrown a controller.
It was that day that I realized "parallel play" on xbox with my brother was actually a means of bonding. He would assign me to his team and helped me chose which gun I would be most comfortable shooting with. My screams upon my first kill were heard throughout the house, and I know that he genuinely enjoyed my company--no matter how bad my xbox skills were.
Moving forward, I didn't need help choosing my gun: I liked the AN-94, and he would assign us to opposing teams so that we had the added competition of fighting each other. My playing cod with him was my entering his world. Our relationship was previously his understanding of what I was doing. In school, I would help him with the information I had already learned. At home, I would help him with the understanding of our parent's decisions. xbox was different. It was me being the learner.
It was often that I would hear his screaming into his headset to his friends on xbox live. I would walk by his room and see the images of exploding cars and running soldiers. I did not get it.
I would sometimes sit in his room and watch him play (trust me, watching someone play video games is far from entertaining). He would often ask me if I wanted to play as well. I always said no. A particular time, I walked in to find the familiar graphics of Call of Duty Black Ops, sat down, and was thrown a controller.
It was that day that I realized "parallel play" on xbox with my brother was actually a means of bonding. He would assign me to his team and helped me chose which gun I would be most comfortable shooting with. My screams upon my first kill were heard throughout the house, and I know that he genuinely enjoyed my company--no matter how bad my xbox skills were.
Moving forward, I didn't need help choosing my gun: I liked the AN-94, and he would assign us to opposing teams so that we had the added competition of fighting each other. My playing cod with him was my entering his world. Our relationship was previously his understanding of what I was doing. In school, I would help him with the information I had already learned. At home, I would help him with the understanding of our parent's decisions. xbox was different. It was me being the learner.