The Game Awards' "Future Class" initiative, aimed at highlighting young and diverse talent in the gaming industry, has effectively become a relic of its own making. The programme, which was touted as a platform for up-and-coming developers, writers, and community managers to showcase their skills and receive career advancement opportunities, was instead met with disappointment and disillusionment from its own members.
According to several Future Class inductees, the programme felt like a publicity stunt, where they were treated more like props than actual contributors. "We were effectively props," said Dianna Lora, a game producer who was part of the inaugural cohort. "Once we got to the Game Awards, it felt like we were pushed to the side door. We showed up, and it felt like we were cast aside."
The lack of meaningful engagement with Future Class members was evident in the ceremony itself. Many were relegated to seats behind camera risers, obstructing their view of the stage. Others reported being ignored or dismissed when they attempted to speak out about the programme's shortcomings.
The programme's demise is believed by many to be a direct result of its own members pushing for improvements. As writer Emma Kidwell noted, "You have the influence, you have the power, and you can change sh*t." However, the more that Future Class members advocated for themselves, the less interested the Game Awards team seemed to become.
The programme's fate serves as a cautionary tale about the importance of genuine allyship. As Midnight Hour founder Elaine GΓ³mez pointed out, "The camaraderie and community that was created by bringing nearly 200 developers and creatives from underrepresented communities together" is what made the Future Class initiative worthwhile in the first place.
Despite its untimely demise, some Future Class members remain optimistic about their experiences. As NegrΓ³n noted, "Don't gather some of the most brilliant activists in the industry, treat us like crap, and then expect us to do nothing about it." The fact that the official Future Class Discord is still active and more engaged now than it has been in a year suggests that there is still value in the connections made during the programme.
Ultimately, the Future Class initiative's failure serves as a reminder of the importance of listening to and amplifying marginalized voices. As Kidwell said, "Marginalised people need accolades because it pushes them to at least be on the same starting level that you or I might have." The gaming industry would do well to remember this lesson and strive for greater inclusivity and support for its most vulnerable members.
According to several Future Class inductees, the programme felt like a publicity stunt, where they were treated more like props than actual contributors. "We were effectively props," said Dianna Lora, a game producer who was part of the inaugural cohort. "Once we got to the Game Awards, it felt like we were pushed to the side door. We showed up, and it felt like we were cast aside."
The lack of meaningful engagement with Future Class members was evident in the ceremony itself. Many were relegated to seats behind camera risers, obstructing their view of the stage. Others reported being ignored or dismissed when they attempted to speak out about the programme's shortcomings.
The programme's demise is believed by many to be a direct result of its own members pushing for improvements. As writer Emma Kidwell noted, "You have the influence, you have the power, and you can change sh*t." However, the more that Future Class members advocated for themselves, the less interested the Game Awards team seemed to become.
The programme's fate serves as a cautionary tale about the importance of genuine allyship. As Midnight Hour founder Elaine GΓ³mez pointed out, "The camaraderie and community that was created by bringing nearly 200 developers and creatives from underrepresented communities together" is what made the Future Class initiative worthwhile in the first place.
Despite its untimely demise, some Future Class members remain optimistic about their experiences. As NegrΓ³n noted, "Don't gather some of the most brilliant activists in the industry, treat us like crap, and then expect us to do nothing about it." The fact that the official Future Class Discord is still active and more engaged now than it has been in a year suggests that there is still value in the connections made during the programme.
Ultimately, the Future Class initiative's failure serves as a reminder of the importance of listening to and amplifying marginalized voices. As Kidwell said, "Marginalised people need accolades because it pushes them to at least be on the same starting level that you or I might have." The gaming industry would do well to remember this lesson and strive for greater inclusivity and support for its most vulnerable members.