I grew up without video games. My grandmother tried, for years, to let my mom allow her to buy us a Nintendo set, and for years my mother refused. I was allowed to play various games on the computer, such as The Oregon Trail and the various Jump Start games—games which, according to my parents, had more educational prowess than Mario or Donkey Kong. Granted, they may have been correct, as those games seem very straight forward, very simple compared to games out today such as Assassin’s Creed or Dragon Age. I grew up, situated firmly in a model of “video games will turn your brain to mush” (along with such things like television). So, when I began to read Gee’s chapter on “Cultural Models,” I could completely understand what he was talking about.
The model of thought I grew up with did not extend to other games, elaborate games where I assumed the role of various different characters—a mermaid, a princess, among others. Through this form of play, I learned, I feel, many of the same concepts Gee discussed some of his earlier chapters, but these newest two chapters, that on the tug of war between overt telling and doing and that on cultural models, illustrate the importance of video games in a learning environment that I do not believe simple make believe games can.
Video games provide the player/the learner, a way of striking a balance between overt telling and doing. Children cannot learn, indeed humans cannot learn, by being bombarded by information. We cannot understand how various things work or what they mean just by being fed information alone. We need to experience. But even then, experience itself, without proper explanation when it is called for is useless. This problem is faced by schools and teachers time and time again, but games, in particular video games strike a delicate balance between these two extremes. Games allow the player to work towards learning how to accomplish tasks without overloading the player with too much information at once. This concept goes along with Gee’s previous point concerning the viewpoint of the mind as a computer which can just download, so to speak, information. Because the mind is not a computer than can download and store information, games provide a way for players to maneuver through a domain while learning how to actually work within the domain successfully. And, by doing this trial and error sort of approach, learning can become more cemented within the players (and learners) minds.
Within DragonAge, the game I have been playing for some 10 hours or so, I have found myself playing the same boss several times. Currently trapped within the Fade by a Sloth Demon, I had to die three times before finally being able to conquer a Lesser Sloth Demon. I both took past experiences from fighting other bosses and foes within the game as well as the skills I was taught/told at the beginning of the game while traipsing through areas designed to help me learn the basics of the game. This sort of practice within video games has the ability to solidify the marriage of telling and doing within our teaching spaces.
Cultural Models
Video games, I have realized through Gee’s discussion of cultural models, go far beyond merely playing a game or helping children/players work through difficult situations. Games may teach the player about the value of trial and error, and they may reward the player for working through difficult situations, but they also seem to allow for a more introspective consideration on behalf of the player. While I am not fully sure how video games can be used to conjunction with teaching in this matter, the similar principles at stake between learning and playing games deserves some consideration.
Like I mentioned at the beginning of this entry, my group model, stemming from my upbringing, led me to dismiss video games as a source of learning. Having begun, in my 20s, to play video games as well as having signed up for this class on video games in the classroom, I am feeling my preconceived ideas alter and expand. Gee, within his chapter on cultural models, explains several video games, in particular Under Ash (photo on right fromhttp://kotaku.com/5654958/a-game-about-insurgency) , which allows a player who may not be a Palestinian play a character who is, a character with very different ideas than perhaps, say, Americans. This game allows players to possibly see what it is like as the Other, to at least understand and consider the cultural models which make up the experiences of the Other. Gee also speaks about several war games—some which promote the idea of War as
Romantic and some which challenge that idea.
Romantic and some which challenge that idea.
By playing games, or various characters within games, we are exposed to various ideas of “good.” These other ideas of “good” might not appear “good” in our eyes, but by playing this games and adopting this other identity, if only over the course of the game, we can perhaps begin to understand or even question our own ideas.
Things to Ponder:
1) If games are able to bridge the chasm between overt information and immersion in the practices so easily, how come education/teaching has not been able to? And, what are some ways in which education can begin to bridge this gap?
2) It’s a good idea to develop games which promote deeper considering of our own systems of values and thoughts. Games such as Under Ash strive to do such, and even the Sonic games allow players to play a different role. But, is there a purpose for games such as Ethnic Cleanising? Gee, while admitting that he finds such a game unsettling, does not seem to promote stopping the identities which can be developed there. If a game is promoting an outright hate of various ethnicities and races, should it just be left alone and chalked up to “allowing people to build and understand different identities?”
3) Video games can have a huge effect on a player’s thoughts/moral systems, as Gee points out. But, in a realistic game is it possible for a player to really come to sympathize and understand what it is like to be that other person? Or, is it possible that, despite the honorable intentions of a game or the truth behind it, the players will walk away without feeling an authentic “experience” of the Other? Or, if the game is designed well enough, it is a “good game,” is that experience part and parcel of the game?
No comments:
Post a Comment