This week, I played Pokémon Emerald Version, a role-playing video game developed by Game Freak and published by The Pokémon Company and Nintendo for the Game Boy Advance. The game is designed for players who enjoy adventure and immersive exploration, particularly those already familiar with the Pokémon franchise. Using an ecological worldbuilding lens inspired by Bronfenbrenner’s theory, the game creates depth and meaning as the characters, space, and mechanics come together to foster curiosity and emotional investment.
At the center of Pokémon Emerald’s world is the protagonist, which the player can select to be either the boy or girl trainer. Both are fixed, predefined characters that do not impact the gameplay, emphasizing the game’s focus on experience rather than biological traits. Using a first-person POV, the player sees the world through the protagonist’s eyes. There’s no extensive exposition in the beginning explaining the context or goal for the game. Instead, the player learns about the world and the actions they can perform through subtle design cues and interactions with the environment, priming them for a journey of discovery.
The supporting cast further supports this by guiding the player forward. While there are no explicit goals and action items that the player has to complete, the interactions with other characters lead player’s toward new progressions in the game. For instance, the game begins with dialogue between the protagonist and her mom. Through that interaction, the player is encouraged to go seek out Professor Birch, which then allows the player to receive their first Pokemon and jumpstart their journey as a trainer. The player also meets Brendan, who is a confident and slightly condescending rookie trainer, helping to create motivation and emotional friction. These characters not only serve as tutorials but also reflect the player’s place in the world. Through these simple yet familiar interactions, the game helps set the context for the environment and character’s background, making the world much easier to immerse into.
The surroundings then begin to open up as the player explores. Wild Pokémon appear in the grass and the player learns to engage in their first battles. Towns begin to introduce functional spaces like the Pokémon Center and Poké Mart through natural dialogue, where NPCs explain healing and shopping, reinforcing key mechanics without breaking the player’s immersion. It’s clear that Pokémon training is a recognized and respected cultural path, as everyone the player speaks to validates their journey. Battles are also a social custom, where trainers lock eyes and immediately begin engaging in battle. What makes this layer even more powerful, however, is Pokémon’s longstanding and recognizable universe. Many players come in already understanding its world logic having seen Ash battle gym leaders and Pokémons evolve. Thus, even early-game mechanics carry emotional significance beyond what the text alone conveys because the game world allows players to live the kinds of moments they’ve watched unfold in the anime or experienced in earlier games, using this shared framework to deepen immersion.
Formally, the early game uses a tight loop of catching, battling, healing, and exploring. These create dynamics such as team-building strategies and environmental navigation. The resulting aesthetic experience is one of mastery, companionship, and discovery. For instance, walking through grass triggers encounters with wild Pokemon, which then inspires battles, Pokémon-catching, and learning new moves through leveling. Narratively, the game’s early story is simple and is really just about learning the ropes. The real narrative, however, is largely personal and player-driven. Each early battle feels significant because it reflects growing mastery and connection. From the protagonist’s choices to cultural rituals, the player’s interactions contribute to a world that feels alive and worth exploring.
However, while much of the game’s body-centered mechanics focus on Pokémon, the player’s character’s body is also depicted in meaningful but limited ways. Unlike Dungeons & Dragons where racial traits imply innate biological advantages, Pokémon Emerald standardizes trainer capabilities. All trainers begin the same, regardless of gender or appearance. There are no mechanical differences between choosing the boy or girl character, avoiding biologically deterministic traits and thus promoting a baseline of equality. However, it also reduces the trainer’s body to just a figure in the game. Cultural and societal traits emerge more in how others perceive the trainer, but the trainer’s own body has no direct feedback loop in gameplay. This is both a strength and a limitation because while it avoids biologically deterministic mechanics, it also prevents the customization of players’ embodied presence in the world.
The trainer’s body becomes a symbolic vessel rather than a character with identity or evolution, and therefore while the player may become attached or emotionally invested in the actions of collecting Pokémon, battling, and becoming a stronger trainer, there is less of a personal investment in the avatar itself. To address this, a mod could allow the trainer’s body to evolve based on experience. Badges could upgrade outfits or the character could age over time, allowing the player’s identity in the game to be more lived and responsive rather than just symbolic.
