Patrick's+Journal

Video games have never been a big part of my life. I always considered my parents a little old fashioned (they are about 40 years older than me), and they never developed an appreciation for computer or video games. In fact, it was not until I was in middle school that the first gaming system entered my household—an already antiquated, first generation Gameboy that I purchased from a classmate. Gradually, my parents adjusted to the idea of allowing video games into their home, a privilege that my younger brother exploited extensively, but by that point, I had lost my fondness for them. My only real experience with video games came from visits to the homes of childhood friends. Nonetheless, I am capable of finding enjoyment in the occasional video game to this day, be it RPG, strategy, or a simple flash game.
 * Week 1:**

Given this lack of fondness for video games, I would struggle to identify any “virtual identities” that I take one. Still, much like Gee’s explanation that words have different meanings depending on context, I have little trouble expanding the idea of personal identity based on situation. I, like anybody, project a different identity depending on the social community I am engaged with. In my teaching, for example, I tend to portray myself as more friendly and outgoing than I might otherwise be. I adopt the identity of a teacher. Similarly, when I am around old friends, I behave with more joviality, much like I did in high school. Who a person is and how they behave is influenced—if not dictated—by the social groups they are part of, a delineation that easily extends to virtual games.

Beyond this multilayered definition of identity, Gee’s multimodel definition of literacy has broad reflections within my teaching. I am currently earning my endorsement as a social studies teacher, and within the social studies, a broad conceptualization of ‘text’ is not only beneficial, but necessary. Too often, history classes are structured around a single text, typically an outdated, fact laden textbook. Of course, textbooks have their place, but genuine research is never sourced from a single text, or rarely even a single type of text. I am currently teaching a course titled //Contemporary Issues through Film//, in which students explore a range of topics through literature, art, discussion, academic articles, and of course, film. Each of these qualifies for my definition of a text: any media that communicates a message. Further, social studies require the development of literacy skills unique to each type of text. Students learn a great deal of their social studies knowledge from sources designed for entertainment, including video games, but we can teach them how to learn more effectively from them.

On a different note, asking someone to discuss their experiences with Gee’s semiotic domains is a big question. If I understand his work correctly, Gee describes semiotic domains as a specificity of meaning depending on context of any term, symbol, image, etc. If that is so, we encounter any number of semiotic domains every day. To draw on the same example as my discussion of identity, when teaching, I take part in an “affinity group” of teachers. In that group, words that might have many meanings in different settings instead have very specific and unique meanings. If a teacher were to speak of validity, for instance, other teachers would know they are discussing assessment alignment, but those who are not part of the affinity group would likely arrive at a different meaning or glean no meaning at all. In this sense, we all engage in different semiotic domains as we move between settings and identities.

Finally, after reading this week’s selection of Gee, I decided to spend some time playing Betwixt Folly and Fate. As a social studies teacher, this game seemed the most appropriate to try, but it left me with mixed emotions. First, I appreciate the multiple-perspective approach the game takes. Though the demo only allows a single character to be played, four characters from diverse walks of life are available in the full version, and I think playing through each might help students broaden their understanding. Additionally, I appreciate that the game managed to introduce a fundamental sense of setting in a format other than lecture or textbook reading. However, I have some reservations. Admittedly, the game is intended for elementary and middle school students, but as a high school teacher, I would have preferred to see an example more appropriate to older students. I have a feeling that the game could be even more impactful if not limited to the themes of elementary education. Further, I found some of the choices in the game to be rather limiting. In conversations, for example, often only a single response could be selected. These limitations might make the game seem too scripted, and thus too similar to standard class reading. Nonetheless, this game could be a good addition to the right curriculum.


 * Week 2-3: **

Virtual and Projective Identities in the Classroom With Oregon’s recent trend toward proficiency based grading in public schools, Gee’s concepts of identities grow ever more prevalent. In the social studies, there is an ever present struggle between content-centered teaching and skill-centered teaching. My approach has always aligned toward a skill approach, focusing less on specific events and people in favor of teaching students the complex reasoning, analysis skills, and literacy skills needed to progress in the social studies beyond high school. I other words, in my history classes I try to give the students an opportunity to pick up the “virtual identity” of a historian. I let them find their own evidences and draw their own conclusions. Once students are comfortable with that identity, my hope is that it would extend into a “projective identity” as well, allowing students to project their own desires and dispositions upon their identity as a historian as they sculpt that identity into the person they want to be.

Teaching “Damaged” Identities Encountering students with “damaged” identities happens all the time, unfortunately. One such instance (actually, the first such instance) that this happened in my teaching involved a young woman in my academic writing lab. She approached writing from a “damaged” perspective, often having so little faith in her own ability that she would call herself “stupid” or even break down in tears when asked to write. Despite this low level of self confidence, a quality that often manifested in severe apathy, the student was one of the more talented writers in the class. However, her “damaged” identity of a writer prevented her from seeing that fact. Due to past experiences, this student entered my class often unwilling to do even simple writing assignments because she lacked confidence. Only after repeated work and well deserved praise did her identity begin to change.

Situated Meaning in the Social Studies My content area, social studies, is full of situated meanings (as all subject areas are). Most fundamentally, even the very meaning of history is dependent on situated meaning. All the time, we hear people say “history tells us…” or “history proves that…,” but such a statement would never be uttered by an actual historian. Though this is largely a failing of history education, most non-historians consider history to be a constant, singular narrative of names and dates, people and events, that teach us discrete, finite lessons. Historians, on the other hand, consider history an ongoing discourse made up of evidence-based arguments. Historians do not purport to tell “truths” about the past, but rather seek insight into the past.Unfortunately, students approach history from the former of these perspectives. They treat history as facts to be learned, rarely moving past surface learning to actually get at the “how” and “why” of legitimate historical research.

The only way to address this tendency—the approach that I strive to employ within my classes—is to provide authentic opportunities for students to join a historical discourse. In other words, history needs to be presented not as a single narrative, but in multiple narratives. Students must be presented with multiple, evidence based arguments over the same issue, and ultimately, they must be allowed to weigh those arguments for themselves and develop their own understanding of past events. If students can accomplish this task, they effectively become historians, gaining much deeper understanding for what history is and how it should be approached.

Learning Experiences More than anything encountered in the text so far, I appreciate Gee’s description of learning as a process of probing, hypothesizing, re-probing, and re-thinking. What this process describes is the basic steps that any person must go through when they learn actively—when they are learning through experience and discovery rather than through decontextualized description. To apply this model as a reflection on my own experiences, I could pick any number of examples (the most obvious being the games that I played for this week’s analysis), but a simple example comes from an experience I had a few months ago driving across the country for the first time.

Traveling with my sister, I had two basic navigational tools to choose from: online direction generators or a paper atlas. Initially, we attempted to use electronic navigation, picking our destination and letting the computer spit out detailed directions on how to get there. We made this choice based on the assumption that electronic maps would be more convenient and accurate than paper maps. This assumption would qualify as Gee’s hypothesis step, the initial probing actually coming much earlier through our previous experience with electronic direction generators.

Nonetheless, as we proceeded through our trip, my sister and I ran into many situations that the electronic navigation seemed to cause more problems than it solved. For example, lacking steady internet access through any other source than a phone, simply reading the map and directions became difficult. Further, we found that navigating with a computer generated course allowed for very little flexibility when encountering unexpected detours or other obstacles, and the clarity of map directions grew increasingly less useful the closer to urban centers you traveled. In other words, electronic directions lacked the broader context and orientation provided by a paper map.

For that reason, my sister and I began to experiment with using an atlas instead, “probing” to see if it may in fact be the more useful option. We began to find that, of course, it was, allowing us to re-think our initial assumption and recognize that paper maps are far more convenient for planning long trips and accommodating unexpected changes. Needless to say, I rarely consult online navigation systems anymore.

Game Reflection This week, I chose to play the //ReDistricting Game//. By in large, I found the game rather fantastic. First, as the game description claims, this game provides valuable insight into one of the least understood but most important aspects of our democracy: gerrymandering. By allowing players to actually take the role of a “redistricting consultant” (working towards equity, partisan, or bipartisan goals), players gain valuable insight into the purpose, process, motivations, and abuses surrounding redistricting. Further, the game has a very clear message; it intends to discredit the current use of gerrymandering and challenge the status quo. In so doing, the game provides an opportunity to teach media literacy, an aspect of social studies designed to allow students to recognize and critically interpret persuasive messages. But even further, once the game’s message can be recognized and students can see some of the vary real abuses that redistricting allows, the game may even succeed at motivating students to take action and engage in authentic civic participation.

Nonetheless, the game does have some minor drawbacks. First, the game asks players to draw district lines, but it fails to give a lot of the peripheral details needed to fully understand what redistricting is and how it came to be. For use in a social studies classroom, this in not an issue as class time cam be spent priming students with such knowledge, but as a stand alone teaching tool, it lacks the full picture. Perhaps an even greater weakness, however, the actual game play may not be engaging to all players. The game involves altering district borders to accomplish stated goals (gaining a new seat for your chosen party, maintaining a certain majority within districts, etc.) while creating population and other demographic equalities. In other words, the game can become a rather complicated balancing act. For students who enjoy puzzles, this would be a great feature, but for students who are more prone to frustration and boredom, the game would lose much of its effectiveness. All in all, I found this game an intriguing possibility for expanding and deepening students’ understanding of redistricting despite these potential drawbacks.

**Week 4-5:**

“Just in Time”

In Economics, students usually enter the class with a basic understanding of concepts like inflation. Inflation is something that is mentioned quite often in the media and in daily conversation, but it is also quite often misunderstood. Students know of inflation as “something bad” that makes their money worth less or as something that made money worth more in the past, but they do not know why or how it occurs. To teach these facets, I host an inflationary auction in which two sets of identical items are auctioned off to the class. Between auctions, the money supply (I usually use dry beans or paper) is increased. With more money available, the prices in the second round virtually always go up. Only at that point do I reveal that the lesson is about inflation. The students just witnessed inflation and why it happened, giving them a processual understanding to which they can tie more abstract learning. By giving students key information about inflation only once they have gained this understanding, students can more effectively learn without being caught up in their preconceptions about what inflation is.

“Subdomain” and “Real” Domain

Currently in my 10th grade Honors Global Studies course, students are engaging in their first real research paper. They are responsible for developing a topic, finding a variety of sources (including academic journal articles), and conducting legitimate research and inquiry into their topic. My co-teacher and I are trying to make this project so authentic to a college-type assignment that I even arranged a field trip to the WOU library and arranged for the students to meet with research librarians and gain temporary passes to access library resources.

In this way, this research project approaches as close to the “real domain” of academic history as possible, but it is nonetheless a sheltered “subdomain” approach. By this I mean students are not simply thrown out of the class to figure out how to write an effective research paper on their own (the experience of many college freshmen). But instead, they receive guidance at every stage, and I am serving as a research coach, meeting with students individually to help them develop their ideas. All in all, this sheltered excursion into legitimate historical inquiry has had very promising results, and students are already producing college-level work.

Information “Transfer”

In this same Global Studies course, this research task was far from their first experience gathering information and synthesizing it into their own narrative. Often, the class participates in DBQs (Document Based Questions), an history assessment tool asking students to review several provided document excerpts while considering a prescribed research question. Students then answer that research question by drawing on those documents. This task allows students to learn how to draw on multiple texts for evidence, and that is a skill that must be transferred in order to succeed on their current research project.

Their current projects are substantially more complex, requiring students to not only draw on multiple sources to answer a question, but to find those sources and develop their own question. The manner in which this transfer can be best facilitated is to point out the reasoning behind the text selection for the DBQs. On those assessments, documents were included to fully inform a topic and provide multiple perspectives through which students could access content and build an argument. When doing independent research, students can be directed to build this same kind of logical connection between texts. Rather that simply gathering a conglomeration of loosely relevant materials, this transfer helps students target text selection in their own research.

“Cultural Model”

The most obvious examples of challenges to my own “cultural models” have arisen from times that I have spent abroad, embedded within a completely foreign culture. One example came from an experience I had when I studied in Greece in my junior year of college. Early in my trip, I visited a small island with some fellow students. When lounging on a beach, we found ourselves abruptly caught in a heavy downpour. Though almost immediately soaked, we nonetheless sought cover in a nearby taverna. Prior to the rain, I had noticed that this taverna was playing host to some sort of celebration (my best guess at the time was a wedding, though I later found out that it was a baptism celebration). The group had been playing joyful music and dancing. When we approached, I expected to be largely ignored by the partiers; it was obviously a personal affair, and there was no reason to even acknowledge our presence. However, soon after arriving people began bringing me and my group drinks and pulling us in to join the celebration. The overt friendliness and openness that we, a group of obvious strangers who did not even speak the local language, were met with actually made me a bit uncomfortable. Though ultimately pleasant, the situation was far from anything that would be considered “normal” in my own cultural model.

Game Reflection

The game I chose to review this week was //CSI: The Experience//. Overall, I was not thrilled with this games prospects for classroom use. Granted, the game content was well outside of my content area of social studies (unless you cared to make the stretch to forensic anthropology), but the gameplay itself had significant drawbacks. Some elements of the game were mildly entertaining. For example, when learning about vocabulary relevant to ballistic analysis, you had to actually shoot (click on) moving targets containing each word. Nonetheless, the game as a whole seemed more like a poor attempt to disguise content learning. Admittedly, I did not progress to the harder game tasks, and they may well have proven more engaging, but the early stages were very informational and very text dependent. Often, the “gameplay” boiled down to nothing more that clicking and dragging objects, prompting the simulation to display informational text. The game may well teach some very basic of forensic analysis ideas, but it does so in a way likely no more effective than traditional instruction.