“Pokémon Center” by Othree
Author: @othree
Creative Commons License: Some Rights Reserved
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Almost immediately upon graduating, I was submerged in a world of 401ks, mortgages, and imposter syndrome. While my coworkers were complaining about their children and retirement, I was still struggling to make a doctor’s appointment without my mom’s help. Living 4 hours away from home, with my nearest friend being a quick 45-minute drive in South Florida traffic, I felt out of place and alone. Desperate for relief from the stresses of adulthood, I found myself grasping at passions from my childhood, but nothing seemed sustainable.
Fast-forward to Christmas of last year, I was experiencing the whirlwind of emotions that come with living out of a suitcase in your childhood home. Nostalgia hit hard and I began looking through boxes in the closet filled with our family pictures and memories. After shuffling through thousands of pictures, I moved to the back of the closet and picked up what felt like a box without many pictures in it. To my surprise, it contained my brother and my Pokémon collection from the ’90s. I was immediately transported to my childhood and an influx of memories began to flood my mind. Finally, something that would be sustainable.
Pokémon means more to me than a piece of cardboard. It represents my dad rewarding me with a trip to the comic store for going to Costco with him or being on A Honor Roll for school. Pokémon cards symbolize happy family times, something I was so desperately yearning for as I began to go off on my own path and attempt to forge my own way. I selected the image above because it illustrates my realistic experience of going to the store for Pokémon cards. In the world of Amazon, a lot of Pokémon collectors buy their cards online. Through my own consumer behavior, I learned that I like the process or ritualistic characteristics of going to the store in person more than I like the cards. I believe it is this aspect that brings me back to the security of my childhood than the actual cards themselves. I enjoy seeing children there with their parents eagerly waiting for the latest Pokémon drop. I smile at children begging their parents for the latest Pikachu plushie and promising to “be good” until the end of time. Although it is not always peaceful in the store, such chaos brings peace to me. Ultimately, I think this photo is a great depiction of how I manage the stresses of adulthood through my childhood vice.
Because I knew the topic of my blog post was about utilizing my childhood interests to help navigate the reality of adulthood, I wanted to select a nostalgic audio clip that embodied the characteristics of childhood and Pokémon, without sounding like a videogame. I think the song through its composition as well as the title enhances the meaning of the photo. It’s not just about the cards; it’s the excitement of going to the store, uncertain if they even have the cards in stock. I’d like to continue the same traditions that my father established and I hope to carry it on with my own kids. I cannot wait for the day one of my children asks me if I can take them to the store to get Pokémon cards. Although I never would have thought I would manage the stresses of adulthood through my childhood vice, buying Pokémon cards with adult money has allowed me to heal both my inner child and my present adult self.









