About Streaming: This is Not Goodbye

aderyn (rae) thompson
14 min readOct 2, 2020

Hi friends,

The time has come. I’ve been putting off saying all of this for weeks now, and I’ve been going back and forth. I’ve been silent on the content creation front for a while. I have been around our discord server and lurking because I miss you all. It’s been very difficult to have the energy to be social though, and I haven’t even been keeping up with text messages to friends or replies on social media. I didn’t even know how to respond to the news of me wining the Canadian Games Award because I’ve felt like an imposter and a failure, especially around the community that built up around my content creation. But, thank you for the love, it always means so much to me, especially from all of you.

This is going to get long. At the end I will post a TLDR, so feel free to scroll down.

Content Warnings: for abuse and exploitation.

Prologue

2020 has been a big OOF for all of us. I feel terrible that I haven’t been present enough when the community may have needed me most. I know you all understand, but it doesn’t make it better. What with starting my new role at Ubisoft, which has been much more emotionally and physically demanding than I anticipated, then the press around the legitimate and important exposures of abuse and culture issues at Ubi made work emotionally difficult, then of course all of the world events. It’s been very difficult to impossible to find social energy after work.

These are the main reasons I’ve been a lurker in my own community, and a big part of the reason I’ve felt unable to stream. Another thing I’ve been wrestling with is the parts of the content creation industry that just don’t sit right with me anymore. After the beginning of this year where someone I considered a friend (who was a very successful and popular professional content creator) did something absolutely abhorrent, and had so many of his community defending him and his unacceptable (but typical) ‘apologies’. It opened my eyes to a lot of things I’d been pushing to the back of my mind. I think many of you have heard about my past career and experiences with geek culture, especially the comic book industry and other online (and in-person) communities. I experienced first hand and witnessed a lot of abuse and exploitation in myself and my friends. This exists in gaming content creation as much as anywhere.

Then, more abuse allegations. This time from the developer side, but guess where they were pulling victims from? Content creation. It was what I’d seen happen in comics, film, and other geek industries. Powerful men abusing their power to groom and trap young women who are not only working so hard to succeed are often isolated even when surrounded by an audience. Not to say it doesn’t happen to men or especially non-binary people too. It does. It was a bigger window into the patterns and the curtain was lifted from my eyes. It amplified all of the things I’d been working against — the exploitative culture, the highly competitive aspect that hurts marginalized people more than privileged, the constant grind, overwork, and abuse or harassment that comes with content creation; this and so much more. It became clear that these things are too systemic and there’s nothing little ole me can do, especially not while fighting so many other fires. The cPTSD I’ve suffered through this year is immense, possibly the most difficult I ever have.

Since then I’ve been wavering and trying to decide if streaming is still for me. The reason I stuck with it was all of you. I never expected a community to form around my streams — it started as a hobby to help me feel productive in a very, very difficult time of my life where I wasn’t even sure I’d survive, let alone thrive. It opened so many doors for me and gave me so many skills I use every single day in my game dev job. I truly would not be where I am without streaming. Running and nurturing this community has been not only an absolute honour, but it’s been a huge learning experience. It’s been a portal to so many vibrant marginalized communities. I’ve made so many friends, both streamers and viewers. I adore every single one.

Patterns Emerge

Some of you will remember the early days of the discord server where we we took a very strict stance on things. This was in the best intentions — safety. Some of those things missed the mark and we had to adapt. Some of them even came from recommendations of other leaders in content creation but they were solely aimed at anti-competition and in the end that didn’t sit right with me either. As I began to feel under water with streaming, and struggled with things like the expectation for 6–7 days a week or long, long streams, and the terrible undercurrent of competition, rivalry, and tension among streamers; the constant vying for attention and kissing the ass of companies and partner managers with how grateful we are to even be considered (which isn’t me at all), I realized there was zero support for streamers, and what community there was involved people like my ex-friend. Looking back there were even a lot of red flags in how he treated me, both online and on a panel — I realised I’d pushed this down and ignored it for the sake of still trying to succeed at this thing, that in the end, feels more toxic than good.

On top of this when I took my full time position at Ubisoft companies just straight up stopped working with me and didn’t even do me the courtesy of telling me, or talking to me about it. I was left in the dark and totally left out of so many events I otherwise would have been included in. This hurt. I’d worked hard to forge those relationships. It’s not that I want or need the attention, it’s being a visible, but more importantly, respected part of the community. I rarely toot my own horn but I am a trail blazer. I’m one of the earliest disabled folk to be making space in gaming, and more than that — I always, always work hard to make space for others, leave the doors open behind me, and send the elevator back down. To be cut off, and out of that community so quickly without so much as a word was crushing. I know so many game developers with partnerships with many companies, and a full streaming career. I don’t know how because when I went full time I was dropped like a hot potato, but in the most hurtful way — silently.

Having said this, I had some amazing partnerships with companies that genuinely have wanted to learn, do better, and uplift marginalized content creators. Companies like Logitech for example. They are out there, and I truly believe the good ones will never make you kiss their ass or beg to be included. They will seek you out and include you, because you’re the talented and couragious person who has the goods, not them — no matter what they offer you. The grovelling is so visible and it’s so gross. I hate that so many feel they have to do it to succeed. The power imbalance is real af, and those who are working to undo that ugly culture within these companies are wonderful people. David, my manager, has worked long and hard to be a part of that change at Ubisoft, and it’s one of the reasons I went to go work for him, specifically, even though other companies were feeling me out for full time. There is change, and it’s magnificent. It’s just slow, and we have to know how to see it. In the meantime, content creators are in a position where they have no choice but to play these ugly games.

I deeply miss streaming — I miss the parts where I get to hang out with all of you, keep you company, and you keep me company. I miss the silliness, I was even excited to do more streams with M and you all know I always meant to do more baking, art, and nature adventure streams (remember that time I almost fell off a mountain in my wheelchair???). So, I’ve gone back and forth for weeks because in my heart I do love the actual streaming, and I absolutely adore this community. It’s been hard to reconcile all of this, though, and it made it hard to actually get the energy to turn on my stream.

Twitch, The Final Straw

This week there was a final nail in the coffin. Dale Crouse, the accessibility program manager, was fired for advocating ‘too hard’ for the community. He pushed the higher ups too much. I know how this happens and I’ve been there, there are no words. Dale did so much for us in the time he was there, most of it entirely invisible because of the awful policies Amazon has over secrecy and a lack of transparency. He fixed screen reader support after years of it not working, he faught back against changes in the new UI that made it inaccessible, he faught to include the disability community in events/exposure, and so much more. It never felt like enough, or, more accurately — it never went far enough. This was not Dale’s fault, and if any of you know the patterns in the wider Tech industry of how Accessibility Specialists are presented as a figurehead, only to let them take all the shit that comes with the company not prioritizing the work or providing enough resources, it is too common. I had big concerns when I saw their job posting with absolutely unbelievable list of responsibilities for a single person. It sat there for three years, they hired Dale and I believe (as a mere onlooker) they had no intention of the cultural shift that is required to do the proper work in both accessibility and diversity. In a massive corporate organization like Twitch it’s never the person we can see’s fault. Twitch’s larger patterns of paying lip service to diversity and not following through? Dale’s firing makes this clearer than ever. I commend Dale for everything he could achieve in a short time in this hostile environment. If nothing else it’s clear how phenomenal Dale is as an Accessibility Specialist, and it’s super rare to have one that crosses the web dev and game dev lines. Twitch threw out a superstar.

We all know the problems Twitch have with constantly mistreating marginalized communities, and just apologizing enough to keep us all hanging on. It’s a constant cycle — they screw us over, they let hateful people hurt us, then they just do enough to keep us here. They know many of us have no choice because it’s our livelihood that we’ve spent a lot of time, energy, and relentless, exhausting hard work on building. Well, the fact is, it’s just no-longer my livelihood, and this crossed a line. In the past week their absolutely minimal effort to address it just isn’t enough (CIPT reached out and they issued a 101 PR statement that linked to a page likely authored by Dale and still even listed him as the contact). I’m sad, angry, and hurt. So many of us give so much to Twitch. They take so much from us, just like all of capitalism. The power imbalance is unreal and I can no longer unsee it. We all feel indebted to Twitch because they provide this platform, and portal to an audience — because of the tool. At the same time they continue to give the most back to their biggest earners, often toxic as hell, some even hateful alt-righters, bigots, harassers, and abusers.

Then the marginalized folk all the way down, who are the unique and beautiful part of Twitch that makes it so magical are thrown just enough scraps to make us feel like we’re indebted. It’s just another symptom of systemic oppression, and it’s utterly dystopian. We imagine that we owe them everything. We don’t. They owe us. Without amazing content creators all the way through the spectrum of ‘success’ there would be no Twitch as it is. It should be a mutually beneficial and supportive relationship. It’s not. It’s exploitive and toxic, and I can’t be party to it anymore. It is too much like the abuse I’ve witnessed and suffered in the past, just worse — on a grander scale to a multi-billion dollar company.

Streaming, Community

I’ll not be streaming any more. I wanted to do one last community stream because I miss you all so much, but I think I’m just too heartbroken. This month is my 3 year anniversary. It all started with a couple of Telltale Games in my backlog direct from my PS4. Little Nightmares: Fuck The Sausage was my first big clip. So low key, so informal. Two weeks later and I’d ordered the first PC I was going to build in years. On my birthday in November that year I streamed with a webcam for the first time. I was so nervous I triggered my immune disorder. Even so, you all made it. I never in a million years thought streaming would be for me — I simply tried it because so many were asking me to on twitter or even those I worked with in studios when working as an Accessibility SME. I fell in love hard and fast, but I realize today it wasn’t the act of streaming, it wasn’t about being in the spotlight (which I never enjoyed), it was sharing everything with you. I have so many favourite moments.

The launch announcement of the Xbox Adaptive Controller is, of course, way up there. To share that monumental moment with you all was more than I can ever repay. It started before that too, though. Triumphs, frustrations, hilarity, and playing things like Monster Hunter World together. Sharing my knowledge about accessibility, the progress of my career and expertise as I learned alongside you. Eventually, we would basically do live analysis as I would a specialist in a studio. Chatting game design. And I’ll never forget creating slides with you all for my very first solo talk at GA Conf. I could not have given that talk without you, and it was a huge turning point where I realized this Game Dev thing was for me, and I buckled down and went hard at it. My streams did suffer in a way — I had to cut hours, take weeks off for work, but you all stuck around.

Then there was To The Moon. I’ve never felt so raw and exposed, and you thanked me for it?? You taught me to be authentic with my experiences, my emotions, and you helped me accept me for who I am. I’ve never cried that hard in front of people before (or since). I didn’t know how much I needed to see even a tiny shard of myself represented in games.

We had ups and downs, the times when cognitive barriers in games were so bad I would begin to have a meltdown on stream. The harassment. We even had abusers in our midst. We dealt with them, but it wasn’t easy. We’ve had some awful moments with horrifyingly hateful people, just for who we are and what we represent — progress, acceptance, pride. At the same time, the laughter. So, so much laughter. I’ve not laughed as hard with anyone in years as I’ve laughed with this community. You exhausted me with it!! In the best way. The community streams, the money we raised for Take This and even members of our community. The generosity we saw as members of our community gave out holiday gifts, subscriptions, shared codes, and more. We got real, many times. We shared ourselves, wholly. We played games together, we hung out. And, sometimes, we even saved each other. I could never be more thankful or proud of this community.

The discord server isn’t going anywhere. I want that place to thrive and be the place you need now, and have always needed. If it goes quiet one day I’ll turn out the lights, but for now, the lights will always be on. They’re warm, forgiving, and welcoming. You made it this way, not me. That place is 100% you. To this day I am amazed we all found each other. So many treasured friendships. Continue to share your own streams and content creation, we are here to support you in this relentless industry that can chew people up. For every single person that wants to keep going despite everything we face I commend you. You are brave, strong, magical. You have more strength than you ever should have to.

Capitalism

I’m not sure what I’ll do with my active subscriptions to others. It’s hard to reconcile supporting friends and peers when 50% of that goes to an exploitive and abusive multi billion dollar tech company. For now, they’ll stay active until I’ve reconciled in my mind. I hold absolutely zero judgement on those who still use Twitch — just remember, it’s a means to an end and they owe you. It’s not a way of life, be mindful and don’t give too much of yourself. I’ve been chewed up by industries like this and I still live with the fallout. Be on guard and look out for each other. Fight that urge to be ultra competitive — it’s what capitalism wants. And, you know, you can stay in this because you want to continue to work to change the system, but you can also just stay in this because it’s something you do. You do not have to fight every day. It is totally OK to just do a good job and leave the fighting to others. Just by being there and being visible you make a difference. We don’t all have to be rebels. I’ll still watch and support my friends for a long time. Remember, there is no ethical consumption under capitalism and no one is alone in feeling like they have no choice in the matter. I support you, always.

In terms of those who are still subscribed to me on Twitch — I’m sorry it took me this long to get my thoughts together. I appreciate all of your support more than I can say. You helped this stream grow and improve in equipment and build — in ways I never thought it would — from super pro audio upgrades, to tools that just made my life easier. Thank you for your support. Please, please feel free to unsubscribe. I mentioned this when the pandemic started — we have a lot of vulnerable people in our community and monetary support was only one small aspect of the support I received. It was never expected, and I never did things like subathons or pushed for subscribers because I was lucky to have income elsewhere and an adjacent career in game development. Again, no judgement on anyone who does these on their streams — people have bills and deserve success in every single way. For me, though, please feel free to cancel your sub.

Not a Goodbye

I’m struggling to wrap this up. This isn’t goodbye; it’s a change, not an end. I’ll still be active on social media and I’ll do my best to find the energies to be active in here too, but let’s be honest, you don’t need me. That is the best feeling in the world because this was created for you. Everything I created was for you. Thank you to our moderators, they are incredible people I consider dear friends. You’ve given so much to us; your time, energy, experience, wisdom, and support. I know some will stick around, but it’s always been a low-key commitment and nothing was ever expected. Over time we’ll see where this community goes and what might be needed, but for now not much is changing in the discord.

One day (a big maybe) I will return to those low-key direct from the console streams, just for the fun of sharing. Here and there.

There really is no way to end this. I’m heartbroken. I guess I’ll just say this — 2020 has been an unbelievably monstrous year. Hang in there, and we will continue be here for each other.

I love you 💙

TLDR;

- I’ll no longer be streaming. There’s so many reasons, from rampant abuse, to a toxic culture, and more.
- It’s sad, and heartbreaking but this is because we had so many good times together (detailed above)
- This isn’t a goodbye, but a change. The discord will still be there, some moderators may come and go, but we’re keeping the lights on
- You all made this community, not me. I am eternally astonished and in love with what you all created here
- I’ll be around, here, there, and social media

Please feel free to unsubscribe on Twitch. I’m very sorry I couldn’t get my thoughts together and come to this conclusion sooner. As I said at the beginning of the pandemic — we have many vulnerable people here and monetary support has never been the only means of support. Thank you to everyone that contributed and made it possible to upgrade the quality of the stream, and continue to buy games, and even give back. Thank you to everyone who showed generosity to each other and the community at large.

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aderyn (rae) thompson

accessibility @ubisoft ∫ systems & ux design ∫ cyborg ∫ curiosity. wonder ∫ birdwatcher. existentialist. tenderrock ∫ autistic. EDS ∫