Dungeons and Dragons – Stories as Healing

For the past six years I’ve worked a professional DM, running Dungeons and Dragons campaigns for autistic teenagers and young adults, funded under the National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS). I love the work. A dream job, really. I’ve got my writing, and I’ve got this, and I was content.

However, the disability sector is not known for being particularly well-managed. Some wonderful people work in the sector, some of whom are close friends, but the poor administration can grind down even the truest of believers.

So after six years, I’ve called time. I’m not going to discuss in detail the benefits of D&D for people on the spectrum – I’ve talked previously about it in this article, and in this one.

But I will say this: Dungeons and Dragons works. It gives the socially isolated a community, and creates a space of laughter, and camaraderie. It sparks the imagination and creativity. It helps teach communication skills, collaboration, compromise, and empathy.

I’ve seen it, the positive change it can make in people’s lives. Of that I am still a true believer. If you know someone on the spectrum struggling with social isolation, have a look and see if there is a program like this in their area. It can change a life.

I can’t post photos of participants for privacy reasons, but I have included pictures two of the players drew of their respective adventuring parties, and a drawing one of them did of me (There’s also a pic of me running a live D&D one-shot at a literary festival).

For the time being I will work as a creative writing tutor at my old university. I’m just wrapping up a month-long gig there as a mentor for an intensive program called ARRTS (Arts for Recovery, Resilience, Teamwork, and Skills). It’s for military personnel (mostly serving, though there are a couple of veterans), with PTSD and other trauma.

Twice a year, a new cohort of participants travel from all over Australia to come to my uni to do nothing other than create, process their experiences, and shrug off the fierce daily discipline they face in the defence forces. I won’t talk more about it in this post, other than to say it’s full-on (as you’d imagine), but also innovative and effective.

As much as I love writing, and consider it my calling, in truth it is a selfish profession. I’d be unfulfilled if it were the only thing I did. It was a huge privilege, and hugely rewarding, working in the disability sector for so long.