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Evidence-based family therapy strategies to assess, intervene, and support families when children fixate on villain roles
Parent concern over a child's villain fascination is now a routine intake scenario in family therapy practice. A recent Focus on the Family column captured the anxiety perfectly: a parent alarmed that their three-year-old insists on playing the bad guy, refuses hero roles, and gravitates toward every antagonist on screen.1 That letter could have come from any number of families sitting in an MFT's waiting room this week.
No existing clinical guide written specifically for marriage and family therapists bridges the gap between developmental normalcy and diagnostic concern when children identify with villains. The sections ahead map villain play across developmental stages, outline red-flag criteria that distinguish typical exploration from early conduct problems, and detail evidence-based interventions drawn from narrative therapy, play, and structural family therapy traditions.
The "villain phase" is a normal, time-limited developmental period in which children adopt antagonist roles through play, fantasy, and media engagement, and every MFT working with families should know how to explain it to worried parents.
The term does not appear in the DSM or in formal developmental taxonomy. That absence matters clinically. Because no standardized label exists, parents who Google their concerns often land on alarmist parenting forums or overly reassuring platitudes, neither of which equips them to respond thoughtfully. MFT psychoeducation fills that gap. Giving families a developmental framework, grounded in research rather than folklore, is itself a therapeutic intervention.
When a child dresses as a villain, narrates themselves as "the bad guy," or insists on playing the antagonist in every family game, they are engaged in sophisticated cognitive and emotional work. Researchers studying children's moral reasoning have found that children as young as four use character narratives to test the boundaries between right and wrong. In a study involving more than 400 children between ages four and twelve, roughly 70 percent engaged in explicit moral reasoning when evaluating characters, and children consistently rated villains as having a worse "true self" than heroes, suggesting they understand the moral distinction even while inhabiting the villain role.1 A separate line of research published in 2025 found that by ages six to eight, children could differentiate morally ambiguous characters with considerably more nuance than younger children, integrating a character's past behavior into present moral judgments.2
The developmental function here is important: villain play gives children a safe narrative container to explore power, process fear, and experiment with aggression without real-world consequences. Sandra Russ's work on pretend play identifies affect regulation and problem-solving as core benefits of imaginative role-taking. Playing the villain is one of the more sophisticated ways children rehearse moral complexity. narrative therapy techniques offer a natural clinical bridge here, helping MFTs frame villain play as a story children are telling about themselves rather than a symptom to suppress.
A July 2026 syndicated column from Focus on the Family, authored by Jim Daly, advised parents not to overreact to villain fascination, noting that the phase "will likely pass" and that giving the behavior negative attention may actually reinforce it.3 That guidance is sound, and MFTs can build on it. Daly's column also recommended using fictional characters to spark virtue-based conversations, asking children questions like "Which character is more honest?" That technique maps directly onto narrative therapy approaches used in clinical settings.
The critical clinical distinction is between villain play and villain identification. Villain play is the near-universal practice of taking on an antagonist role within a story or game, then stepping back out of it. Villain identification is something qualitatively different: a persistent alignment of self-concept with antagonist traits, outside of play contexts, across settings, and over time. The former is developmentally expected and generally benign. The latter warrants closer attention, not because it is automatically pathological, but because it may signal that the child is processing something the play container alone cannot hold.
A preschooler stomping around the living room roaring that he is the "bad guy" feels worlds apart from a teen who adopts dark, antihero aesthetics as a personal brand. The former is sensorimotor and immediate; the latter is abstract and identity-driven. For MFTs, recognizing where a child falls on this developmental continuum turns parental alarm into informed, stage-appropriate intervention.
In these years, villain identification is physical and uncomplicated. A 3-year-old pulling a blanket over his head and growling "I'm the monster" is not signaling moral confusion; he is exploring power, fear, and agency through his body and voice. This aligns with the case described in Focus on the Family's 2026 column, where a 3-year-old's fascination with evil characters was deemed a passing phase that typically fades when not over-reacted to.1 Research confirms that by ages 4, 5, children judge villain actions overwhelmingly negatively, and even with a positivity bias, they clearly recognize villainy.2 Moral reasoning at this stage centers on a strong good-bad dichotomy; children do not yet integrate inner states or motives. Play is imitative, driven by sensorimotor exploration and early theory-of-mind leaps; they are testing "what if I were the scary one?"
Once children enter this window, villain play gains structure. Instead of simple stomping, a 7-year-old may invent a backstory for the antagonist, negotiate who gets to be the villain in a peer group, or debate why a character acts badly. Stable categories of hero and villain are now in place, and children begin paying attention to inner states; a villain's actions may still be judged worse than a hero's, but there is early curiosity about feelings or motivations.2 A key shift: around ages 7, 9, moral reasoning incorporates motives and backstory rather than relying solely on outcomes.2 Still, moral clarity remains important. Children aged 7, 11 are often confused by antiheroes because they crave unambiguous lines between good and bad.3 MFTs working in child and adolescent counselor career paths will recognize this stage as a prime opening for values-based conversations within the family system.
This stage marks a turning point. While younger children see villains as simply bad, 10- to 12-year-olds grow increasingly sensitive to moral complexity and inner conflict.2 They may become fascinated with sympathetic villains or antiheroes and can begin separating fictional admiration from real-world moral judgment. Research indicates that by ages 8, 10, flexible moral identity emerges; behavior begins to override appearance.4 A child who once said "he looks scary, so he's bad" now reasons, "he did harmful things, but he was trying to protect his sister." Media literacy becomes a powerful lever for MFTs working with families, helping parents guide discussions about nuanced characters.
In early adolescence, villain identification often shifts into identity signaling. Edgy aesthetics, dark humor, or contrarian moral positioning may surface. While this can look alarming, it frequently reflects normative individuation. At this age, drawing a firm line between "I appreciate a morally gray character in fiction" and "I condone those behaviors in real life" is a key developmental task. When tweens and younger teens engage with morally complex antagonists, they are often struggling to categorize them, a tension that fuels cognitive and moral growth.3 MFTs can reassure parents that this exploration, when not paired with conduct problems, is a sign of deepening critical thinking, not a pathology.
Most children who imitate Darth Vader or cackle like a cartoon witch are simply rehearsing moral concepts through pretend play, and the behavior resolves on its own. The clinical challenge for MFTs is distinguishing developmental role experimentation from early signals of externalizing pathology. A structured red-flag framework offers clarity: developmental signals are time-limited, context-flexible, and remain fully contained within the play frame, while clinical signals persist across multiple settings, escalate in intensity over weeks or months, involve loss of the pretend boundary, and cause measurable distress in the child or those around them.
When assessing villain-themed play, watch for these specific markers:
The July 2026 Focus on the Family column advises parents to "squelch aggressive behavior immediately" when a child mimics violent actions during villain play.1 From a clinical standpoint, this guidance is sound for physical aggression directed at people or animals. Immediate, calm redirection protects safety and teaches boundaries. However, MFTs should caution parents against suppressing all villain-themed expression without offering a replacement outlet. If a child's only avenue for exploring anger, power, or moral conflict is shut down entirely, the result may be increased shame, covert acting out, or a belief that certain feelings are too dangerous to discuss. Redirect the behavior, but preserve the emotional content: "We don't hit, but I see you're exploring what it feels like to be really powerful. Let's draw a picture of your villain character instead."
When red flags appear, MFTs can recommend standardized behavior checklists to quantify the severity and breadth of the child's difficulties. No instrument is villain-phase-specific, but these tools capture the externalizing behaviors that distinguish clinical pathology from normative development:
These checklists do not diagnose, but they provide standardized data that support differential diagnosis, track treatment response, and help parents understand whether their child's behavior falls within or beyond the typical range for age. When three or more red flags are present and screening scores are elevated, the MFT's next step is thorough assessment for oppositional defiant disorder, conduct disorder, trauma-related externalizing, or attachment disruption.
How do I know if my child's villain obsession is just a phase or something that needs a clinical diagnosis?
This is one of the most common questions parents bring into session, and the answer almost always starts in the same place: a single behavior, no matter how dramatic, is never enough to justify a diagnosis. What separates a normal developmental phase from a clinical condition is not the content of a child's play. It is duration, pervasiveness, and functional impairment.
Oppositional Defiant Disorder requires at least four symptoms drawn from three clusters: irritable and angry mood, argumentative and defiant behavior, and vindictiveness.1 Those symptoms must be present for a minimum of six months.1 For children under five, the behaviors need to occur on most days; for children five and older, at least once per week.1 Vindictiveness specifically must be observed at least twice in that six-month window, and the pattern must show up with at least one person outside the sibling relationship.1
Conduct Disorder sets a higher and different bar. It requires at least three symptoms across its own four clusters: aggression toward people or animals, destruction of property, deceit or theft, and serious rule violations.2 The duration requirement stretches to twelve months.2 The DSM-5-TR also specifies onset type, distinguishing childhood-onset (before age ten) from adolescent-onset, because the trajectory and prognosis differ meaningfully between the two.2
Both diagnoses require that the behaviors cause clinically significant distress or impairment in social, academic, or occupational functioning. That functional impairment criterion is the most important gatekeeper of all. A child who loves playing the villain at home but thrives at school, maintains friendships, and responds to redirection does not meet the bar, regardless of how theatrical the behavior looks.
When parents describe a child's behavior in session, it helps to sort what you are hearing across a few key dimensions:
Prevalence data provides useful clinical grounding here. ODD affects roughly three to five percent of children and adolescents, and Conduct Disorder is estimated at around five percent.3 Villain-obsessed children vastly outnumber both groups, which means the base rate alone should push clinicians toward a developmental explanation first.
The decision to refer for a comprehensive psychological evaluation should hinge on functional impairment and the distress it causes, not on the themes a child gravitates toward in play. If a child's behavior is disrupting school performance, fracturing peer relationships, or placing family functioning under serious strain across multiple settings (mild ODD affects one setting, moderate affects at least two, and severe affects three or more settings4), that is the signal to bring in a child and adolescent therapist for formal assessment.
If the behaviors are largely contained to the home, have been present for fewer than six months, and the child shows clear capacity for empathy and responds at least partially to redirection, the more productive clinical move is to reassure parents and focus on the family system. Co-regulation skills, attachment security, and parenting consistency often resolve what a diagnosis would only label.
Directive interventions that teach the child "correct" behavior versus child-led approaches that let a young client explore emotions at their own pace represent two poles of the clinical spectrum. In practice, the most effective work with a child's villain phase often draws from both traditions, matched to the child's age, family dynamics, and the clinical picture you uncovered during assessment.
Narrative therapy techniques invite children and families to externalize a problem rather than internalize it as an identity. When a preschooler or early school-age child is deeply attached to villain characters, a narrative approach can separate the child from the behavior: the "villain phase" becomes a story the child is telling, not who the child is. You can guide the family through conversations that explore what the villain character offers (power, excitement, control) and then co-author alternative stories where those same needs are met by heroic or prosocial characters.
This reauthoring process is particularly useful for parents who have begun labeling their child as "the bad one." Shifting the language from "my child is acting like a villain" to "this villain story has been visiting our family" diffuses blame and opens space for curiosity. Research literature on narrative therapy with externalizing behaviors in children supports its effectiveness, though clinicians should consult current peer-reviewed sources for the latest outcome data. Professional associations such as the American Association for Marriage and Family Therapy (AAMFT) maintain resource libraries that can point you toward evidence summaries.
Child-Centered Play Therapy, often abbreviated CCPT, gives the child a nondirective therapeutic space where villain play can emerge naturally. Through observation, you gain valuable diagnostic information: Is the villain play exploratory and flexible, or is it rigid and repetitive? Does the child shift roles, or do they insist on controlling every aspect of the scenario?
CCPT is well suited for younger children, typically ages three through ten, who lack the verbal capacity for talk therapy. Within the play room, tracking statements, reflection of feeling, and limit-setting when play crosses into genuinely aggressive territory all provide structure without squashing the developmental work the child is doing. Parents can be coached to mirror some of these reflective techniques at home, extending the therapeutic environment beyond the session.
Where narrative and play therapy center the child's inner world, structural family therapy zooms out to the system. A child's villain phase sometimes reflects unclear hierarchies, inconsistent discipline, or a triangulated family structure. Structural interventions help parents reclaim appropriate authority while maintaining warmth, a combination that research consistently links to reduced externalizing behavior in children.
Parent-focused behavioral protocols, including Parent-Child Interaction Therapy and Parent Management Training, deserve consideration when the villain phase includes aggressive acts that disrupt daily functioning. Both approaches emphasize live coaching of parents during interactions with their child, building skills in selective attention (reinforcing prosocial behavior, strategically ignoring minor provocations) and consistent follow-through. These protocols have been widely studied for effectiveness with externalizing problems in young children, and outcome data is available through databases such as the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration's evidence-based practice resource center.
The landscape of child and family therapy research evolves steadily, and clinicians owe it to their clients to stay current. Rather than relying on a single summary, build a habit of checking authoritative sources directly.
Selecting a modality is never a one-size-fits-all decision. The child's developmental stage, the severity of the behavior, the family's cultural context, and the parents' capacity for change all factor into your clinical reasoning. Combining approaches, such as using play therapy with the child while simultaneously coaching parents through a structural or behavioral framework, often yields the strongest outcomes in clinical practice.
Parental emotional reactivity is the single most modifiable factor in reducing child behavior problems, according to longitudinal research in family process. When a child enters a so-called villain phase, with its dramatic sword fights, declarations of "I'm the bad guy," and occasional aggressive acts, the parent's emotional response often determines whether the phase resolves smoothly or escalates into a chronic power struggle. MFTs can play a pivotal role in building parental alliance and teaching co-regulation skills that transform these moments of tension into opportunities for connection and moral development.
Parents bring genuine distress to your office. Hearing a 3-year-old say "I want to be the villain because villains win" can trigger fears about moral failure or budding psychopathy. Acknowledge that alarm directly: "It makes sense that this feels scary. You want to raise a kind person, and this behavior seems to contradict that." Normalize the phase with developmental context, because villain play is a common way preschoolers explore power, agency, and fear, but never dismiss the parent's concern. The parent's anxiety is itself clinical data about the family's emotional climate. Reframe it as a sign of their deep investment in the child's wellbeing, then move toward actionable tools.
The "do not overreact" advice from parenting columns is a starting point; MFTs can scaffold it with co-regulation science. Children's nervous systems are still maturing, and they rely on caregivers to lend regulatory capacity. When a parent meets villain behavior with a punitive, anxious, or overly intense reaction, the child's threat response escalates and the behavior often intensifies. Coach parents to notice their own bodily signals, like a tight jaw, fast heart rate, or the urge to yell, and to take a brief pause before intervening. Simple techniques like a three-breath reset, a sip of water, or labeling their own feeling ("I'm noticing I feel angry right now") model self-regulation. Once the parent is regulated, they can offer calm, firm guidance rather than reactive control. Emotionally focused therapy offers additional frameworks for helping caregivers recognize and manage their own attachment-driven reactions before they spill into parent-child interactions.
Give families a concrete sequence to use during villain-themed play:
Some families come to therapy because the child's villain phase seems extreme, but careful assessment reveals that the child's behavior is developmentally typical while the parent's threat perception is disproportionately high. A history of childhood trauma in the parent, intense community judgment, or untreated anxiety can make ordinary defiance feel catastrophic. In these cases, the MFT may need to work primarily with the parent, using psychoeducation on child development and possibly individual or couple sessions to address the underlying reaction. Reassurance alone is insufficient; help the parent build distress tolerance and rewrite the narrative of who the child is, such as "He's not a bad kid; he's a kid experimenting with bad-guy power." MFTs interested in deepening their work with children and families may find it useful to explore the child and adolescent counselor career path, which outlines the competencies and supervised training that support this kind of nuanced parent coaching. Once the parent's anxiety is managed, the villain behavior often loses its charge and fades.
The debate over violent media and children's behavior has evolved considerably, yet parents still arrive in therapy asking the same question: is my child acting this way because of what they watch? The answer is more nuanced than a simple yes or no, and MFTs are positioned to help families sort signal from noise.
Meta-analytic evidence, including reviews published in JAMA Network and analyses by the American Psychological Association, identifies a small-to-moderate association between violent media exposure and aggressive cognition or behavior in children.1 The effect is larger for younger children and operates primarily through two mechanisms: desensitization to aggression and the internalization of aggressive behavioral scripts.2 However, these findings warrant careful interpretation. Christopher Ferguson's meta-analytic work has demonstrated that once publication bias is accounted for, the observed effects shrink substantially.3 Short-term arousal, such as rougher play after watching a villain-heavy cartoon, is well documented, but lasting behavioral change depends on a constellation of co-occurring factors rather than media exposure alone. In clinical terms, media consumption is best understood as a moderating variable, one risk factor among many, not a standalone cause.
When conducting intake, MFTs should assess the child's media diet with the same rigor applied to sleep habits or family conflict patterns. Key variables include:
A child who has experienced trauma or chronic bullying may adopt a villain persona for reasons that have nothing to do with media at all. The logic is intuitive from the child's perspective: "If I am the powerful one, I cannot be hurt." This protective identity shift transforms villain play from exploratory role rehearsal into an emotional survival strategy. Research from Iowa State University has found that past aggression is the strongest predictor of future aggression, and that bullying victimization itself predicts aggressive behavior.4 When a clinician sees villain identification that feels rigid, emotionally charged, or resistant to redirection, the appropriate next step is a trauma-informed assessment rather than a purely behavioral intervention. evidence based family therapy modalities can provide structured frameworks for this kind of layered clinical work.
For children ages 10 and older, villain identification can migrate into digital spaces that operate by different rules than backyard pretend play. Online gaming communities include griefing culture, where players intentionally disrupt others' experiences, and social media platforms host dark-aesthetic identity communities where villain archetypes carry social currency. Research published in Academic Pediatrics has found a positive association between violent media exposure and cyberbullying perpetration.5 These online expressions require different clinical attention than offline villain play because they involve real targets, peer reinforcement loops, and a degree of anonymity that can accelerate boundary-crossing behavior. MFTs working with this age group should explore the child's digital life as part of a comprehensive assessment, treating it not as a footnote but as an environment where identity, power, and relational patterns are actively being practiced.
Marriage and family therapists regularly field questions from parents who are unsure whether their child's villain fascination is a passing phase or something more concerning. Below are answers to the most common questions, with references to the relevant sections of this guide for deeper clinical detail.
Becoming a licensed marriage and family therapist who specializes in child and family work requires a defined educational pathway, supervised clinical experience, and state licensure. Clinicians who complete this process earn the credential that qualifies them to navigate the clinical situations described throughout this article, from distinguishing a developmental villain phase from oppositional defiant disorder to deploying evidence-based interventions that restore family functioning.
The journey begins with a master's degree in marriage and family therapy or a closely related field such as clinical mental health counseling with a family systems emphasis. Most accredited programs require two to three years of graduate coursework covering family systems theory, child development, psychopathology, ethics, and clinical intervention methods. After completing the degree, aspiring LMFTs must accumulate supervised clinical hours under a licensed supervisor. Requirements vary by state but typically range from 2,000 to 4,000 hours of direct client contact, with a substantial portion involving couples and families.
Once clinical hours are complete, candidates sit for the national MFT licensing examination or a state-specific exam. Passing this exam and meeting all state board requirements results in LMFT licensure, the credential that authorizes independent clinical practice with individuals, couples, and families.
According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, marriage and family therapists earn a median annual salary of $63,780 nationally. Salaries at the 25th percentile sit around $48,600, while those at the 75th percentile reach approximately $85,020. The field employs roughly 65,870 professionals across the country. For a deeper breakdown of how pay shifts by setting and experience, the MFT salary by state data offers useful context. These figures reflect general MFT practice; clinicians who develop specialized expertise in child and family work often command higher rates in private practice settings where demand for these skills outpaces supply.
Licensure opens the door to practice, but specialization differentiates clinicians in a competitive market. MFTs who focus on children and families often pursue additional credentials and training:
Clinicians who invest in these specializations develop the ability to distinguish developmental normalcy from diagnosable conditions, select appropriate interventions, and coach parents with confidence. That expertise translates directly into referral network growth: pediatricians, school counselors, and other mental health providers actively seek MFTs who can handle nuanced child presentations without pathologizing normal development.
The clinical content in this article reflects the kind of case that parents bring to therapy regularly. When an MFT can calmly explain why a preschooler's fascination with villains falls within developmental norms, deploy narrative or play therapy techniques to explore underlying themes, and recognize when symptoms cross into ODD or conduct disorder, that clinician becomes invaluable to families and referral sources alike. This combination of diagnostic precision and intervention flexibility is what builds sustainable private practices and positions MFTs as go-to specialists in their communities.
Marriage and family therapist salaries vary significantly across the United States. Whether you plan to specialize in child and family therapy or pursue a broader clinical practice, understanding regional compensation helps you make informed career decisions. The table below draws from the most recent Occupational Employment and Wage Statistics published by the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics (2024 data).
| State | Total Employed | 25th Percentile | Median Salary | 75th Percentile | Mean Salary |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Hawaii | 220 | $67,320 | $135,870 | N/A | $145,360 |
| New Jersey | 3,940 | $77,380 | $89,030 | $97,670 | $91,980 |
| Utah | 1,980 | $63,220 | $81,170 | $102,810 | $85,550 |
| Virginia | 910 | $54,010 | $80,670 | $95,120 | $78,900 |
| Oregon | 1,080 | $65,400 | $79,890 | $137,950 | $94,520 |
| Connecticut | 390 | $59,000 | $76,930 | $138,610 | $94,830 |
| Minnesota | 3,780 | $59,720 | $72,370 | $82,870 | $72,900 |
| Colorado | 810 | $54,960 | $69,990 | $104,990 | $89,280 |
| Maine | N/A | $67,720 | $68,670 | $85,370 | $72,820 |
| Nebraska | 50 | $46,040 | $68,550 | $79,710 | $68,000 |
| New Mexico | 250 | $57,800 | $67,990 | $76,070 | $68,660 |
| Kansas | 160 | $56,150 | $66,620 | $68,030 | $63,480 |
| Maryland | 340 | $58,560 | $65,300 | $113,800 | $84,900 |
| New York | 930 | $54,120 | $65,020 | $76,920 | $66,710 |
| Missouri | 530 | $51,310 | $64,900 | $80,760 | $70,010 |
| Pennsylvania | 2,360 | $55,580 | $64,570 | $80,100 | $67,940 |
| California | 32,070 | $47,730 | $63,780 | $91,660 | $74,660 |
| Ohio | 710 | $41,600 | $63,880 | $96,220 | $78,300 |
| Delaware | 380 | $53,560 | $63,360 | $76,350 | $64,840 |
| Massachusetts | 530 | $56,720 | $62,290 | $81,810 | $68,430 |
| Alaska | 80 | $48,480 | $62,220 | $75,560 | $69,970 |
| Iowa | 90 | $49,460 | $61,450 | $71,030 | $72,070 |
| Vermont | 110 | $55,310 | $61,060 | $72,360 | $66,260 |
| Kentucky | 410 | $43,020 | $60,190 | $84,290 | $65,100 |
| Illinois | 840 | $54,340 | $60,140 | $71,190 | $66,640 |
| Washington | N/A | $57,100 | $59,660 | $70,710 | $68,250 |
| Georgia | N/A | $52,900 | $58,830 | $76,970 | $67,960 |
| North Dakota | 40 | $43,150 | $58,180 | $90,600 | $70,330 |
| New Hampshire | 220 | $44,490 | $57,220 | $66,800 | $60,490 |
| Oklahoma | 1,270 | $41,380 | $56,450 | $73,590 | $59,830 |
| Alabama | 200 | $43,690 | $54,280 | $63,660 | $55,260 |
| North Carolina | 2,110 | $46,320 | $53,910 | $75,090 | $60,540 |
| Michigan | 870 | $44,790 | $52,890 | $74,110 | $59,210 |
| Arizona | N/A | $48,860 | $52,420 | $57,570 | $54,830 |
| Indiana | 1,120 | $45,440 | $51,710 | $61,770 | $58,430 |
| South Carolina | 550 | $33,270 | $51,440 | $64,200 | $51,940 |
| Mississippi | 180 | $50,410 | $51,260 | $52,680 | $51,480 |
| South Dakota | 70 | $47,190 | $51,190 | $52,710 | $50,120 |
| Florida | 760 | $43,710 | $50,220 | $88,250 | $69,450 |
| West Virginia | 110 | $43,370 | $48,180 | $57,860 | $49,450 |
| Arkansas | 120 | $42,860 | $47,090 | $56,920 | $52,710 |
| Texas | 1,160 | $37,940 | $45,690 | $64,290 | $54,900 |
| Tennessee | 2,590 | $38,600 | $45,660 | $51,210 | $46,510 |
| Montana | N/A | $32,330 | $37,150 | $48,340 | $43,300 |
| Wisconsin | 230 | $34,700 | $34,700 | $45,530 | $43,740 |
