Marcus T. Wright

Digital games can be an instrumental tool for class engagement and intellectual discovery. Games in general bring out a sense of excitement and play; but what may be less discrete about games in their various formats—be they video games on home consoles, digital games on computers, or mobile games on smartphones—is that they are complex mechanisms for learning due to their emphasis on problem solving. To progress through a game, the player must learn how to navigate the world of that game, utilize the abilities at their disposal and recognize patterns in order to overcome obstacles. This heavy emphasis on problem solving means that digital games can catalyze critical thinking as players progress from one challenge to the next. 

I recently had the opportunity to leverage the problem-solving dynamics of digital games while teaching in the Penn College Achievement Program (PennCAP) Pre-Freshman Program (PFP). PennCAP PFP enrolls primarily students from underrepresented backgrounds (such as first-generation, students of color and low-income), making for a diverse and driven gathering of talented students who engage in classes and activities before starting their first semester at Penn. In my “College, Media and Society” course, I wanted to teach my students in a way that tapped into the creative and intellectual energy that they all brought to the classroom. While traditional methods of teaching—for example, the lecture and the seminar—are extremely valuable, novel methods that energize the learning environment and further capture the imagination and passion of students from all backgrounds have the potential to enhance the level of reflection, conversation and perspective produced within the class (if implemented carefully and strategically). I felt that digital games, because they catalyze critical thinking, would allow my students to leverage the vast array of life experiences they possessed. Accordingly, my students could lean into their experiences as sources of strength, empathize with the experiences of others and transcend what they learned toward their preparation for full-time matriculation at Penn. 

I anticipated enthusiastic engagement from my students as they used these games for learning because digital games forge a connection between the player and the game itself. A digital game cannot come to full form without a player, meaning that players are as important to creating gaming experiences as the games themselves. Further, digital games tap into many other attributes of the player, such as their propensity to keep trying despite setbacks, and their ability to realize and imagine themselves in unique environments and situations. These attributes propel students of all backgrounds to Penn and could foster personal investment that would help the class explore complex issues under the umbrellas of race, class and social belonging.

Below are my primary takeaways from the experiences:

1. Scaffolding is key. The first game we played was an interactive, text-based fiction game that focused on imposter syndrome. The students controlled a self-doubting character who was preparing to give a talk at a conference. The students had to select from various links (embedded in the text) to decide what the character would do next. My initial thought was that this game would help students understand that imposter syndrome affects many people in a variety of situations. I showed a screenshot of the game on the projector screen, asked everyone to go to the game’s website on their laptops or phones, and basically said, “Go!” 

During gameplay, several students expressed their confusion about how to navigate the game. After gameplay, our discussion focused more on the eccentricity of the options the player could choose from instead of the widespread effect of imposter syndrome. I was disappointed in this outcome and reconsidered ever using games again! 

I realized that I was mistaken to think that if I put my students in front of the game, they would automatically know how to play it and learn from it. I had failed to scaffold my students’ understanding of the purpose and function of this new tool (the digital game). I also had not played the game enough times beforehand to gauge how my students might perceive it. Once I recognized these limitations, I decided to try again.

The next game gave players the chance to manage their finances, stress and happiness while getting through college. I not only showed a screenshot of the game before my students played, but I also played through the first few screens of the game so that my students could watch and learn. I discussed the choices I made and used a few minutes before the students began to discuss why the game fit into the context of our course and our lesson (which was for students to gain “experience” balancing various stressors and financial decisions while navigating college). 

Finally, I encouraged my students to play in pairs or groups if they desired, to foster connection amongst themselves. As they started playing, I checked in with my students and then left them alone when I saw that they were fully engaged in the game and excited about playing. The post-game discussion on navigating college and financial decision-making allowed students to reflect on the difficulty of maintaining balance and the benefits of getting practice in the format of a game. We also discussed how a plethora of choices await them in college, and I stressed the importance of connecting with advisors and mentors to help guide them as they make some of these choices.

2. The educator is the glue. Ultimately the game is merely a mechanism to facilitate the educator’s vision. Games serve as an exciting piece to a puzzle that can energize and invigorate students—as long as the educator plays their role. While digital games need players, lessons need educators or else those lessons are nothing more than collections of information. Educators turn the implicit into the explicit; they make the experience something tangible for students to apply to their own lives. 

I felt this the most when my class played a third game, which challenged players to last a month with $1,000 (starting off without a job). We tied this game to our class lesson on meritocracy versus social inequality. Students put themselves into the shoes of a person living in poverty to test  their ability to make daily choices while trying to eat, pay bills, take care of a child and better their lives. This game is known for helping players understand social inequality, but connecting the theme of the game to the idea of meritocracy required intentional planning on my part (as well as playing through the game a few times on my own to understand what my students would experience). The connection to meritocracy was implicit in the game; I had to make sure that my students saw the connection explicitly. As a result of this preparation, our post-game discussion built on their experiences and allowed them to see more clearly the challenge of social inequality. Most notably, one student who came into class believing that we live in a meritocracy changed their mind after playing this game. That was not my goal, but the game and the way that I organized the lesson facilitated an openness to opposing ideas.

While I focused on using digital games, there are many ways to create invigorating learning environments that supplement traditional approaches, energize the classroom and help students of varying backgrounds flourish. This process reminded me of the necessity of intentional lesson planning and the importance of an educator even when letting students learn on their own. My students valued learning through this nontraditional approach, and developed new types of critical thinking, including tolerance for different perspectives and comprehension of the complexity of Penn.  Games also allowed us to connect to one another on a human level as we discussed urgent topics. As I move forward as an educator, and as we as an institution rightfully extend greater educational opportunity to underrepresented students, I aim to continue to push the boundaries of my teaching in order to keep up with the dynamic possibilities of my students’ learning.

Marcus T. Wright is the undergraduate program and communications manager in the sociology department. He is also a doctoral student in higher education at Penn GSE.

This essay continues the series that began in the fall of 1994 as the joint creation of the College of Arts and Sciences, the Center for Teaching and Learning and the Lindback Society for Distinguished Teaching. 

See https://almanac.upenn.edu/talk-about-teaching-and-learning-archive for previous essays.