Entertainment that Helped Define Who I Am Today
5 Works That Taught Me Grace, Humor, and Creative Instincts
I ran across an article that gave me pause and made me think deeper than usual. The author, Snichnd, wrote about how some entertainment works helped define who he became. This was intriguing and kept with me for quite awhile. Eventually, with his permission, I thought it was time to put in my two cents worth and see if I could be up to the same challenge.
Could I narrow down what helped build my character on specific entertainment?
The answer is no—I had to cheat a little, sorry! I had to define “entertainment works” a little more broadly, but… I am sure that you can accept it.
Before you read on, I would like to ask you: what bodies of entertainment helped define who you are now? The path might be more enlightening once you go down the rabbit hole like I did.
Taught me dignity, humility, and shared imagination: “Board games & TTRPGs”
I’ve been playing board games since childhood with my parents, and they schooled me in grace: how to lose with dignity (which I still often do), how to win with humility, and why cheating is undignified and wrong. If I truly learn a system, I can improve in almost any game—an insight that later shaped how I negotiate, frame trade-offs, and keep perspective. Studying a bit of game theory on my own—zero-sum vs. win-win dynamics, cooperative and competitive strategies—gave those lessons language.
Tabletop RPGs took it further. Not only did they inspire me to actually read books, they taught me pacing, spotlighting so everyone gets a moment, and the art of cooperative story-making. As a teacher, I use those same muscles: inviting contribution, reading the room, and guiding toward meaning. My longer piece on the educational benefits of roleplaying games will be linked here for anyone curious. Bottom line: if you teach or want to teach, try a TTRPG—it will sharpen your instincts and your empathy.
Gave me my comic timing and resilient humor: “Cartoons, Sesame Street, and the Muppets”
These were the building blocks of my humor and my sarcasm. Looney Tunes, Scooby-Doo, Spider-Man, The Flintstones—they weren’t just entertainment. They were my first guides in humor, irony, and the art of poking fun at the world (and myself). American children’s shows are steeped in sarcasm, even if not everyone uses it comfortably in daily life. Those contrasts taught me to laugh, and to be laughed at—without crumbling.
Humor wasn’t just how I coped—it became how I connected.
That matters at home, too. My daughter is gradually learning that my jokes aren’t meant to wound but to play, to reframe, to release tension. Humor helped me build thicker skin and a softer heart at the same time.
Opened my world and my sense of duty: “M*A*S*H”
As a kid in Canada, I didn’t know that watching my dad’s favorite show, M*A*S*H, was an education. Evening after evening, I sat with him, asked a thousand questions, and absorbed a bigger world: American doctors in the Korean War, stitching life together under relentless pressure. Yes, there was a world outside of Canada, who knew?? The show’s dry wit was my kind of humor—but beneath the jokes were stubbornness, resolve, and the quiet work of getting through another impossible day.
M*A*S*H taught me that bonding, teamwork, and eking out happiness in scarcity are acts of defiance. It made “duty” feel less like a concept and more like daily action. I didn’t realize how deeply it marked me until I was older and reflective—and then it was obvious: this show shaped how I show up when it’s hard.
An Australian teacher once told me that Canadians are the ones that grind it out and work hard—I hope I embody that comment.
Taught me that brilliance needs backup: House M.D.
I love this show. House is nearly godlike in skill and painfully human in flaw—selfish, abrasive, often wrong before he’s right. Through power plays in office politics, the series keeps proving that cooperation among misfit minds beats lone-wolf genius. The humor and sarcasm are so sharp they still make me wince with admiration.
I learned to tolerate friction, to mine conflict for insight, and to remember that people should get along—even when they don’t. Along the way, I picked up a genuine curiosity for the science and logic under the hood. It’s a blueprint for building characters—and relationships—that are brilliant, broken, and still capable of breakthrough.
House reminded me that friction doesn’t stop progress—it can sharpen it.
For my Japanese readers, this is like Doctor X—except with the softness ground off. The main character is despicable in nearly every way, and yet somehow, that’s exactly what makes him so compelling.
What scores give me—and why I pass them on: “Soundtracks and music in general”
Music has been with me since a spring-loaded rocking horse and a battered copy of The Good, the Bad and the Ugly—played so relentlessly my family eventually hid the record. As a teen, I worked in all the big record stores in Toronto, went to concerts, and even sang lead in a band once—it never got out of the garage on that same day. With the exception of a few genres that never clicked for me, I listen widely because music keeps teaching me how to feel.
Soundtracks, especially, became my emotional compass. Wordless scores still feel like the most magical place I know—equal parts sanctuary and creative engine. That’s why I create soundtrack articles: to share what they offer me—a quieter mind, a personal creative biome, and a kind of emotional reset that sneaks up on you when you’re not looking.
The motto I use in those articles is simple: “If you close your eyes…” It’s an invitation. Shut off the digital noise of SNS, breathe deeper, and let your imagination flourish. Relaxation. Reflection. A kind of therapy. I forget that sometimes—until I remember, and the room changes.
🎓 In Conclusion: Echoes That Shape Us
None of these influences were just entertainment. They were invitations—to laugh, to grow, to endure, and to imagine. From learning grace at the board game table to finding emotional clarity in soundtracks, every piece gave me a tool, a voice, or a lens. Whether it was cartoons sharpening my humor, M*A*S*H deepening my empathy, or TTRPGs training me to guide story and spotlight others, each left its mark.
I carry those lessons into my classroom, into Austinplayz and Austinworx, into my creative reflections and articles. Not to look back, but to build forward.
Entertainment didn’t just entertain me—it helped me rehearse how to show up. How to lead, how to connect, and how to keep growing.
How about you? What entertainment helped shaped who you are today? Feel free to make an article like mine and Snichnd’s, or just put in your comments below, I would be happy to read them.
Thank you for reading. Have a great day wherever you are.
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