Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Victory

Checkmate.  Collect all 6 pie pieces.  Defeat the leader of the ultranationalists.  Discover who killed Mr. Boddy, where, and with what.  Good games must have a victory condition.  Accomplish your final objective and you have won the game!  Good game players have a strategy, and will execute a series of moves, each small victory bringing them closer to achieving that final objective.
In education, we do have objectives.  But do our students know what the final objective of the mission is?  What will the students be able to do when they finish your course? 

Notice I didn’t ask what the students will learn.  Or what students will know or understand.  Learning is a totally personal thing – students within the same class may learn different things, and it’s generally not feasible to try to measure what they’ve learned.  But you can measure what they can do.

Unfortunately, many classes are more like Monopoly than Call of Duty.  We just go around and around, paying here, collecting there, and the final objective is so vague that we just play until we get bored or it becomes time to do something else.  Monopoly is one of the least fun games out there as far as I am concerned.*

Have you ever played a video game where the victory condition wasn’t clear?  Am I supposed to collect these thingies or shoot those thingies?  How often would you play a game where you just completed tasks with no idea where they were taking you or what you were trying to accomplish?
What will your students be able to do?

When I was teaching web design, I had an easy answer for this question.  The students will be able to create web pages using HTML and CSS, including original graphics, hyperlinks, and multimedia.  We worked on a year-long web page project and the kids saw how we added elements as we went along, consistently moving toward our final goal.    

When I taught math (Algebra and Geometry, predominantly), this was not as clear in my mind.  Graph lines?  Solve equations?  I knew I needed a clear idea in my head of what success would look like and how each unit worked to bring us closer to our ultimate objective. 

Because if I didn’t know, how could I tell my students?  Would they feel like they were working toward a goal or that we were just circling the board, killing time, until June rolled around and it was time to move on?

Figure out what your “end game” is.  How do you become a winner at U.S. History or English 2 or PreCalculus?   Post it on the board, put it on the syllabus, and most importantly, make it the focus of what you do all year.

Keep telling your students.  This is where we are going!  Here’s how this skill you are learning will get you another step closer to that ultimate objective and help us complete our mission!
And if what you are teaching doesn’t lead you toward your end goal?  Maybe you need to consider why you are teaching it at all . . .


*note about Monopoly:  I have spoken to students who love Monopoly, but they are generally either hypercompetitive or they introduce rules to make the game more exciting.  I’d rather play Clue.

Monday, February 9, 2015

Gamification

I have read a number of articles about Gamification of the classroom, and I have to admit that the idea didn't particularly intrigue me.   I wrote my masters thesis on self-efficacy, and I am a big believer in the notion that introducing too many extrinsic rewards can reduce a student's intrinsic motivation.

This past weekend, I participated in several events which managed to combine to change my mind completely about what Gamification is and why it should be the central guiding principal of education.  How's that for a turnaround?

The first event was a musical.  The second was a STEM conference.

My beautiful daughter was part of the ensemble of the school musical, Zombie Prom.  The work that goes into putting on a musical is exhausting.  The kids come home tired, with sore feet and sore throats.  Tears are often shed over harsh criticism or a perceived failure to meet expectations,  Then, after weeks of preparation, the performance is staged, and the kids are absolutely jubilant at the audience response.  I see it in the fall when the marching band spends hours in the hot Texas sun.  When sore feet and sunburns culminate in a halftime show that brings the crowd to its feet.  It makes me wonder, what is it about these performances that make the kids willing to persevere?  How are these experiences different from the classroom, where so many kids don't want to put forth enough effort to listen to the lecture, much less do the homework.

I think there are a number of factors that do contribute to this issue, one significant one being that the kids who participate in the after school performances are aware of what they are getting into and have willingly committed to the project.  If I tried to drag my fourth period to the parking lot and asked them to march, I probably wouldn't be met with the same enthusiasm.

But many of these students who are willing to put their hearts and souls into these performances are not always willing to put forth that much effort in their classes.  Many do try to keep their grades up so they can participate in their extracurricular activities, but I think it is fair to say that these students aren't always as passionate about their U.S. History class as they are about playing sports or performing.

The second event, the STEM conference, stirred up some additional thoughts for me.  I participated in a round table discussion about the importance of STEM.  STEM is my passion; I was a math teacher and am certified in computer science, and I work closely with our computer science teachers (including my husband).  I'm writing curriculum for some of our new computer science courses as often as I can find the time to do so.

So despite being an ardent STEM supporter, I was surprised when the facilitator asked the question, "Do we even need to study history or fine arts?"    I was even more surprised when my first response was, absolutely!  The facilitator used as an example an ELA teacher teaching a fiction novel.  She asked, why do we need to study fiction?  How is that going to help our students get jobs?  And my thoughts turned to my middle daughter who wants to be a novelist.  And to my own passion for reading fiction.  What the heck do I believe after all?  Is it a math/science/technology world?  Or is there room for the artsy stuff as well?

I do believe that our main purpose as educators is to produce students who are productive members of society.  But I guess I'm a bit loosey-goosey on what I think of as "productive."

In my mind, if you are an engineer, doctor, lawyer, factory worker, plumber, or teacher, it's clear what you produce.  But I think there is value in producing other things too.  If you are a concert violinist who produces music and people will pay to come see you, that's productive to my way of thinking.  If you write novels, or act in plays or movies, and there is a value for your skills, I believe that's productive.

I don't know when we stopped asking students what they want to do when they grow up.  We often ask students what they want to be (and the responses are generally adjectives:  rich, famous, happy), and we ask them what they want to study in college.  But somewhere along the line we stopped asking them what they want to DO.

As part of our roundtable discussion (back at the STEM conference if I've lost you), they asked something along the lines of why students achieve more in STEM classes.  I almost shouted that students enjoy coding because they aren't just consuming knowledge - they are producing it.  Producers, not consumers.  And it kind of hit me that that's why they love theater and marching band - producing a show.  Creating a product and sharing it with others.  I don't think any subjects are inherently bad (like the aforementioned History), but I think there are subjects where we ask students to take on a passive role.  They are expected to consume knowledge and demonstrate that they have retained it.  But we don't ask them to create anything.

If you ask anyone what experiences they had in school produced the most genuine learning (and the most positive experience as well) they will all tell you about a project they did or a great discussion, or a fun activity.  No one will tell you about a great lecture they heard.  Active participation is the key - that is when the learning happens.  That is when students feel involved and empowered.  Those are their most positive experiences.

So how do we bring that to more students?  How do we design lessons and curriculum that ensures our students are getting the most from their classroom experiences?

By following the principles of game design.

You can call it Gamification of the classroom, or by any other name you choose.  I believe that every teacher can benefit from learning the principles of game design and applying them in the classroom.

You may think I'm crazy, and you may be right.  But humor me for a few blog entries and I think I can make a believer out of you.