Losing Brandon
Spotted this first on CTV.ca, then followed it around the horn. First off, let me say my thoughts are with this family, and I hope they find Brandon soon. Anyone with information should contact the Barrie police.
However, I thought this bit from the Star story was interesting:
“Steve suspects the 5-foot-3, 100-pound boy was on his way to meet some friends in Oro-Medonte Township. His three best buddies from school were also members of his “Call of Duty Clan.” Steve has since learned from these friends that Brandon may be part of another clan, but the friends have no idea who those members are. He fears the boy was lured into meeting someone from that clan and is now being held against his will.”
Or your kid is holed up in Oro-Medonte with his pals, Steve. It’s not hard to hide in the basement while your friends lie to the authorities.
Kids can get really stubborn when they feel they’ve been grievously wronged like this. To an introverted tenth grader with a below-average stature and potentially very little outlet for his high-tech ambition in school, X-Box Live must’ve seemed like the most important thing in his life. And it sounds like instead of embracing it and taking an interest, the parents just saw it as “one of those ‘kid’ things” that they could use as an instrument of reward and punishment. I have to ask: did either of these parents, I don’t care which one, but either parent ever actually pick up the second controller and play a round or two with Brandon?
Of course, a lot gets lost through the filter of the news. The story also says that Steve, thinking his son was joking, helped him pack his bag and even gave him directions to Shanty Bay. Mr. Crisp “remembers running away from home once when he was a boy.” Out of touch? Possibly. But maybe dad was just so relieved to finally have an opportunity to create an experience that he could relate to, a bit of adventure for a youth who by all accounts took a liking to the outdoors, followed by a good old-fashioned “what did you learn” male-bonding conversation whenever Brandon got home. That might even have been how Steve remembered his dad dealing with the situation. If Brandon had indeed come home “later that day with his tail between his legs,” then Steve looks like a brilliant parent, Brandon potentially comes to accept that life is about more than hanging off his controller, and the gaming community at large goes on arguing about Dead Space and Golden Axe. Instead, we have another roundup of headlines for all the usual suspects to gloss over before exploding with their well-entrenched positions: “games are evil!” “games are used as a scapegoat!” “it’s the developer’s fault!” “it’s the parents’ fault!” and so on into the infinite canvas of the online message board. My personal favourite right now is the sort that follows the “why don’t the cops check up on his Live account?” template, given it says in every story that they’re doing exactly that. It makes me shake my head: more should be made of the fact that the cops are digging into the relatively unconventional realm of the technological trail, because it presents a whole new avenue of approach for cases like these while simultaneously educating other parents on the importance of knowing what your children are doing online.
But enough from me. I know enough about the gears of the media to see that a story needs a new hook if it’s going to be redeployed, and the Crisps need all the help they can get. I’ll keep my eyes open in case some abductor improbably decides to bring Brandon to Ottawa, and in the meantime I’ll do what I can to spread the word. It’s the least I can do as both a gamer and a decent human being.
Tags: Brandon Crisp