The Bard and the Dungeon Master: 1980s Play, Music, and Social Skills

Dungeons and Dragons dice on a table.
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In our neighborhood in the 1980s, before cell phones and constant surveillance, after-school hours stretched out like whole lifetimes. We didn’t have therapy. We had each other. We had front porches, cassette tapes, and endless reams of notebook paper. And we had two kids I’ll never forget:

Eli, who hosted Dungeons & Dragons campaigns in his basement surrounded by miniatures and soda cans.
Tina, who sang harmony so naturally you’d think she was born with a backup vocal track running in her soul.

Eli was shy and bookish, with undiagnosed ADHD and a brain that ran faster than his mouth. He hated gym class but could explain medieval siege warfare in detail. He never made eye contact at school but came alive when he was the Dungeon Master. There, in the safety of story, he could lead.

Tina was the girl who stayed late to help clean up after choir concerts and spent recess rehearsing duets. She had a hard home life—one of those unspoken truths everyone sort of knew. Music gave her something else to hold on to. A place where her voice mattered. Where she wasn’t just seen, but heard.

Imagination as Intervention

We didn’t know the word neurodivergent. We didn’t know about trauma or executive functioning. But we did know this:

When Eli asked, “Do you want to be in my campaign?” it was more than a question. It was a key to a new world.
When Tina opened her spiral notebook of lyrics and said, “Sing this with me,” it was more than an invitation. It was a rescue mission.

They each built something from the raw material of their lives—a dungeon, a duet—and they brought us with them. Now, decades later, the research has caught up to what we felt in our bones.

What the Data Says About Play, Song, and Social Growth

Dungeons & Dragons: Collaborative Imagination and Emotional Development

Today’s clinicians are increasingly using tabletop roleplaying games (TTRPGs) like Dungeons & Dragons as therapeutic tools—especially for kids with ADHD, anxiety, autism, and social skills challenges.

  • A 2017 literature review in Games and Culture found that TTRPGs build executive functioning by strengthening working memory, sequencing, and flexible thinking (García, 2017).
  • A 2013 study in The Journal of Creativity in Mental Health documented how adolescents in structured RPGs showed improvement in communication and teamwork (Rosselet & Stauffer, 2013).
  • The American Psychological Association highlights TTRPGs as an emerging practice in group therapy, promoting prosocial behavior and narrative reprocessing.

When Eli built his world, he wasn’t escaping—he was regulating. When he asked us to roll for initiative or solve a riddle together, we were learning how to negotiate, to listen, and to repair.

Music and Co-Regulation

And Tina? She was practicing something just as important. Singing with others—especially in middle childhood—activates neurobiological systems tied to social connection, co-regulation, and vagal tone (Porges, 2011). Harmony isn’t just musical—it’s emotional.

  • A JAMA Pediatrics study (2021) found that group music-making buffered chronic stress in children by increasing oxytocin and reducing cortisol.
  • Research by Kirschner & Tomasello (2010) showed that synchronous singing promotes empathy and cooperation in 4–8-year-olds.
  • Bailey & Davidson (2005) found that marginalized youth in group singing programs reported higher self-worth, emotional expression, and belonging.

Tina didn’t have a therapist. But when she sang with us, she led her own healing. Her voice taught us to hold space for grief, for joy, for each other.

Why This Still Matters

We talk so often about “skills” and “interventions,” about what children need to learn. But sometimes what they most need is a structured space where it’s safe to be brave.

Eli’s maps and Tina’s harmonies were that space. They were practicing:

  • Flexibility without shame
  • Risk-taking without humiliation
  • Repair without punishment
  • Connection without conditions

And they were doing it through play and music—two of the most neurologically integrative tools we have.

This Is Why We Built the Fall Groups

At The Parents and Children Project, we created our DnD Social Skills Groups and Music & Song Social Skills Groups with kids like Eli and Tina in mind.

We know that when you give kids meaningful roles—party leader, bard, harmonizer, strategist—they begin to see themselves differently. They get to experiment with courage. They get to play their way into self-compassion.

These groups aren’t about performance. They’re about participation. They aren’t about fixing kids. They’re about believing in the power of co-created space to help kids grow, connect, and belong.

The Invitation

You don’t have to be Eli or Tina to benefit. You just need a space where it’s okay to be curious. To try again. To sing off-key or miscast your fireball spell and still be welcome.

That’s what we’re building here. A place where kids can grow, connect, and belong—one song, one quest, one small risk at a time.

And if you’re lucky, someone might still ask you to join their campaign.

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