Autistic Streamers Should Embrace the Webcam: A Guide to Authentic Connection
Browsing most categories on Twitch, you will see a mix of streams with cameras and streams without. Often, someone who tells you that you must use a webcam to be successful has affiliate links to webcams in the article or video. They tell you that you can’t succeed without a bunch of expensive items and, coincidentally, Amazon sells them all. But that’s fine—I’m not here to dump on the hussle of other creators. In fact, I’m also here to tell you that you should use a webcam when you are live on Twitch or YouTube or… Mixer Facebook Gaming Kick. A webcam can help you build meaningful connections with your viewers by showcasing your unique face and your natural expressions. There are some challenges to overcome, to be sure, but they are worth pursuing for the shared value a camera will bring to your stream. I will not make any camera recommendations in this article, but it’s really hard to make a bad choice. Even a mediocre camera is better than no camera for most people.
Empathy & Understanding
Your face tells a story—even if you’re expressionless, the subtle changes in one’s face can be evident, even in a small portion of the stream display. It can mean the difference between demonstrating that you’re having fun or getting frustrated. Our voice alone can’t always convey a wide range of emotions—especially if you have the blessing of a monotonous voice, like me. This is not unique to autistic people—but some of us struggle with describing emotions. When asked by my doctor to describe being happy, I thought for 16 seconds before landing on the answer, “not unhappy.” You can’t say a scene in a video game is making you not unhappy, so your face needs to tell that story.
My flavour of autism is seasoned with a dash of post-traumatic stress disorder, and one of the most dominant features of my ptsd is hypervigilance—a constant perception of danger all around me. On stream, this looks like me suddenly turning to look out the window, at the front door, or on the patio, because I thought I heard or felt something. Several times I have had to get up from my chair while live to check and make sure nobody was in my home about to murder me. With a camera on my face, I can share that fear with my viewers and we can all enjoy my trauma together.
Autistic Self-Care
A webcam also helps me stay connected to myself. I stream games on Sunday and writing on Wednesday, and on both days, I have my camera on and my stream preview on my secondary monitor. I find myself frequently checking my own video feed to keep myself in frame, my face visible, and to do quality control on things like my green screen and layout. It could be all too easy to ignore the experience of viewers when I don’t have a live preview. And keeping my camera on guarantees that I pay attention. Another piece to this is about self care. While I am generally okay, I can have mood-dependent drops in my ability to perform self care tasks. Even showering and shaving can fall off my “task table” and be swept away for days. Streaming every Wednesday and Sunday guarantees that I don’t forget to clean my ears and cut my nails. If I can see myself on the screen and I look super gross, it helps break the failure cycle and sparks me to take better care.
In addition to helping me take care of myself, I feel that having a webcam allows my viewers to care more about me and want to build that authentic relationship with me. If someone comments something funny and I laugh, that helps build a connection. I struggle in the real world with making social connections with people. I find people tiresome and often not worth the energy to cultivate a relationship. I do enough of that at work, that when I have free time, I don’t want to spend it building more relationships with people. I don’t have many friends, and those I do have I try to keep at a safe distance—safe for me, not them. Streaming allows me to build those connections with people but without the social pressure of getting together on weekends to see a movie, or go bowling, or play Dance Dance Revolution at the local arcade—though honestly, if you invited me to play Dance Dance Revolution at an arcade with loud music, flashing lights, and hundreds of people, I’d probably go just for chance to play DDR again. I loved that game.
Put Yourself Out There
Putting your face on the Internet for all to see can be a terrifying concept. I have worked on this over the years and found some strategies that have helped me overcome that fear. When I first started streaming, I would alternate between having my camera on and not using it. I didn’t like this—I found myself to be an all-or-nothing person, and when I opted to not use the camera, I felt like I wasting my time. But, I must have gotten that idea from somewhere, and just because it didn’t work for me, doesn’t mean it’s not a good idea.
What I’ve found to be much more important to feeling comfortable, is to make sure that I’m in a comfortable spot. I stream from my living room, and don’t want to lock myself away in a room, so I have a collapsible green screen behind me that I can simply put away when I’m not streaming. I have a custom U-Shaped desk, so more than enough space for everything that makes me comfortable. The only piece on my desk that is not comfortable is my key lights. I use two key lights, on the left and the right, to illuminate my face and to help with the green screen. If the lights aren’t bright enough, I get dark spots that look bad on the stream. But if the lights are too bright, being just at the edges of my peripheral vision, they can start to make me feel uncomfortable. This is why you’ll usually see me streaming with a cup of coffee and a full water bottle—these small distractions keep me regulated where I might otherwise react poorly. I also stream for only two hours at a time, so usually I don’t have an issue with anxiety buildup from the bright lights. I also seem to be just fine as long as I keep the brightness at around 20%.
Angles & Settings
Another piece to consider is the angle at which your camera faces you. They say everybody has a “good side.” Experimenting with camera angles can help you find your good side—if you don’t already know it. I don’t think I have a good side, so I opt for an angle that feels comfortable, which is slightly above and off-centre. This enables me to always appear to be looking towards the centre of the screen. I find it slightly unnerving when other streamers look directly into the camera anytime they talk to their audience. I look into the camera when I want to emphasize something or be creepy.
Take Breaks
I also make sure that I get up while streaming. Although I could sit for two hours without moving and probably be okay, I would rather get up and move around a little bit. Refill my water bottle, check on the kids, or just do a lap around my apartment. It goes a long way to manage some of the anxiety. If your camera is generating similar anxieties, maybe take more frequent breaks. Or hide your camera for a few minutes and then turn it back on—OBS is really great for that.
Conclusion
While using a webcam may seem daunting, the benefits far outweigh the challenges. By embracing the webcam, autistic streamers can create meaningful connections and build up a supportive community. Ultimately, the key is to be authentic and present yourself and your unique perspective.
