Disappointment

I had a very disappointing morning with respect to my pick me up video game, Knights and Dragons.

First let me say that I know it's a video game, and I know it means nothing (in the real world, anyway), the score doesn't matter and my allies don't even know me. The point is that the experience was one I could extrapolate a life lesson from, and therefore it affects my physical life.

So, here were my two big disappointments and the consequence learning I gleaned from them.

The first disappointment was the completion of a quest. OK, I know that is supposed to be a great thing. However, the quest itself was flawed so that the result was totally not worth all the time, money, and energy it took to complete it. The quest was to combine two valuable pieces of armor to make an even more special piece of armor. In addition to the time and gold it took to gather all of the elements and make the first two pieces of armor, it also cost a whopping 25,000 gold pieces to combine the two pieces. It took forever, cost a ton, but finally this morning, I did it. And the result?

A piece of armor that I already have that costs next to nothing in comparison and that I can make almost any time I want. So, why that quest and why all the hassle? And most importantly, what did I learn?

Well, I have no idea why that quest went the way it did--maybe it's part of the game's "charm" to set knights on foolish quests and give them ample reason to spend their time and gold. It was wasteful to me, and part of the reason I am playing this game is to set a schedule, a rhythm, a habit of goal-completing and focus that will help me in the real world of independent writer. But here's what I learned from that disappointment: quests set by others often don't meet your goals. When you get to the end and complete the quest, if it doesn't meet your goals, you'll be dissatisfied. For real, satisfying results, set your own quests.

Here's the other game disappointment this morning, this one of my own making. In taking on the epic boss, I shorted myself on knights and power and lost a heart-breaker. Here's how that works. You get three of your own knights plus you can add two of your friends to attack the epic boss. In each subsequent battle, the boss gets stronger, so you need more power. However, it costs epic energy to fight. Your reserve maxes out at 10 epic energy points. It costs 3 for your first knight, 2 for your second knight, and one for each additional knight up to five knights. Three of the knights are yours and you can hire up to two friends. Epic battles give great power ups, so you want to win as often as you can- but that means playing as often as you can. Since epic power takes so long to regenerate, you need to be as frugal with your resources as possible while still having enough fire power to defeat the epic boss.

Since I just had a massive armor upgrade to two of my three fighters, I thought that I could win the epic battle with only those three plus my super tough friend. I was wrong--literally one punch away from winning when the last of my knights crumbled. Now those seven epic energies are a total waste. I should have added one more knight for just one more energy. Even a weak knight could've taken that last shot, but I was being too frugal and lost it all. Lesson: Don't be afraid to spend a little to ensure victory--gambling with the big boss is wasteful.

Better Late Than Never

I usually try to write in the morning, but chaos on the home-front derailed that fairly easily.

I want to write today about SuperBetter, a game to make yourself better--from whatever physical or mental ailments you may be suffering from. SuperBetter focuses on four realms of health- physical, mental/ cognitive, emotional, and social. The game is simple--complete quests and defeat bad guys in order to meet your personal goal. It's a real-life goalsetting game played online, but your quests or tasks exist in the real world. So, I guess just the scoring is online.

Jane McGonigal (personal hero) invented this game to recover from a serious concussion. According to her, as soon as she started playing the game, she felt better. The physical pain was still there, but she was no longer suffering the depression and anxiety that the pain had been causing her.

I signed up yesterday, created my secret identity, and completed the first few tasks. The game offers packs with predesigned tasks or allows you to make up your own to fit your personal needs. This--blogging--is one of my tasks. I want to do it every day, because even when I don't feel like I have anything valuable to say, I still feel better for having said it.  

That being said, I had one of those It's a Wonderful Life moments today. I dropped the dogs off to get haircuts--early, after my alarm failed to go off and the morning was chaos, etc.-- and when I got home, I got right to working on a project that I've been stop and go on for two weeks. I have to push hard to find motivation right now, and I think I'm going through some mild depression about not going back to school this year. I know I made the right choice, but I'm struggling to reconcile that those bargain bins of school supplies in every store I go into have nothing to do with me...whew!

Anyway, I got started this morning and knocked out a big chink of work. In fact, once I got going, I really rocked it--great new idea for a segment, focused and creative. It was amazing. Then, I get the call to pick up the dogs and I realize that I haven't been up and down letting one dog in, the other out, or calming them when whatever chattering squirrel, cawing bird, or muffler-less car next door has threatened their turf.

I bring them home, they settle in, I settle in and just as I start to pick up the thread of focus--bark, bark, BARK, BARK, BARK! And for a minute I thought, "I wish I didn't have dogs!" and what's worse is I meant it. They are frustrating and irrational, they bark incessantly at the wildlife through the open windows, they make my life so much harder than it needs to be. And yet...

When I come home, they are ecstatic to see me, even if I was just outside doing yard work. When they play--one's a chaser, one's a tugger-- it always makes me smile. The only thing I ever miss when I'm on vacations is my dogs nestled up to me at night and licking my face awake in the morning.

So, as frustrating as it can be, I would never, ever give up my dogs, not in a million years and not for a million dollars...

But maybe I put them down for naps so I can get some work done!

Keeping It Simple

I have a working theory that people have optimum and maximum work pressures that push them towards getting things done. When you are working at your optimum pressure, you have just enough on your plate to feel as if you are being productive and your work is meaningful. Optimum work pressure keeps you focused, determined, and working at your very best. Maximum work pressure, on the other hand, is the absolute most you can have in your work queue without completely shutting down. Maximum work pressure is characterized by frenzied, harried behavior and appearance and is a hard state to maintain for long periods. Think: all-nighter studying for a test or writing a paper you've been putting off.

Some people believe that their optimum pressure and their maximum pressure are the same. These are the people who intentionally procrastinate to feel the rush of adrenaline when they finally get started. I used to be one of those. I used to think that I could only do great work if I had some outside pressure and deadline looming over me. I've had some very successful projects completed by procrastinating and letting it come down to the wire to complete.

Here's the problem--there's a third work pressure and that's breaking pressure. When you max out your maximum and slip past the point where you feel that completing the work in front of you is possible, you've hit your breaking pressure. Breaking pressure shuts you down. You lose all interest, focus, and determination because you believe that it's not possible to get something done. Some people still go through the motions and will complete an inferior work product, but most people just move on. It's like missing your exit on the toll road: most people just go on to the next one and pay the extra money. Oh, well.

So, here's the life hack: break things into small pieces and only allow your optimum work pressure on your schedule at a time. Easier said than done, I know. But here's what I've found. If I can set small goals and feel as if I've accomplished something, I'm more energized and willing to tackle the next thing. I'm working at my optimum level.

Sometimes I break my up big goals into smaller ones by scheduling game breaks as rewards. If I get that first three paragraphs of my blog done, I'll go collect my gold in a video game. Or, if something is really big and I know it's going to take a LONG time, I'm set physical breaks. After each little bit, stand up and walk around the room, go freshen up the coffee, take a bathroom break (after all that coffee!)  

Another strategy for feeling accomplished even when you should be overwhelmed is to record (and hence, celebrate) all of the small things you get done. For example, if my big goal is clean the house, then I'm not done until it's clean. I can make a list of all the things I need to do, but that can be really overwhelming and push me to my breaking point--especially since cleaning isn't something that I enjoy doing. So, instead of making a to-do list, I'll just do something, then record when it's done on the dry erase board I have hanging on the fridge. There's a lot of satisfaction in writing down your accomplishments. In fact, once that list of "already done" things get long, I feel pretty good about myself. I start walking around seeing what else I can get done to write on the list. Just recording the accomplishment is a mini celebration of your hard work, which makes the work rewarding. So, just keep it simple--you'll get it done.

Start with What YOU Want

When I decided to take a year off to write, there were so many things I didn't know. I didn't know about publishing or editing or how to create (and stick to!) a writing schedule. And even though I've read thousands of books in my lifetime, I didn't really know how to write an educational book. So what did I do? I read... and read... and read some more.

I read more about the self-publishing and independent writing business than I thought was possible. I tracked down every blog and self-publishing manual, I sifted through extensive comments, I scanned hundreds, if not thousands, or articles online, and I bought several eBooks about related topics. The more I read, the more the life of a self-published writer appealed to me, and the more confident about my decision I felt.

Due to all of that reading, I've gleaned lots of tidbits, tricks, and useful advice. One such piece of advice (I can't remember exactly where it came from, but it has stuck with me) is this: WRITE THE BOOK YOU WANT TO READ. Simple, but it set the focus for my first stage of writing. The premise behind this advice is that we are more excited, more invested, and ultimately better at doing what we want to do, as opposed to what we think we have to do.

Instead of trying to make my first book a lofty tome of academia and research, I kept it simple. For the most part, I knew my audience would recognize the validity of teaching strategies and best practices I used, so I didn't need to bonk them over the head once again with the research that backed it up. I didn't let my book get bogged down in other people's research or work. I kept it simple, more like a "how-to" with respects to using a particular piece of software to do great things in the classroom.

It was exactly the book I would want to read- immediate, results-oriented, show me how to do it, give me great ideas, and then get out of my way and let me make it real.

It all started with that simple piece of advice: Write the book you want to read. I thought- brilliant! Then I thought- as I filter everything that passes through my brain- how does this apply to teaching?

Simple- TEACH THE CLASS YOU WANT TO TAKE.

Once again, the premise is that you'll be more excited, more invested, and ultimately better at creating a class that you yourself would want to take. Now, you need to modify the audience, so that your second graders aren't analyzing Shakespeare or making potato guns. Maybe imagine yourself at the age your students are and figure out what you would've liked at that age, how you would've liked it presented, and how you could've shown what you know.

There are many external restrictions and guidelines to follow for what we teach and when (and perhaps also how). However, one thing that I noticed in my own teaching is that I was often handcuffed by the way I thought I should be teaching based on my past experiences as a student. I'm telling you right now: if you throw those out the window and open up to the possibilities of what could be, you'll end up much happier in the long run- and your students will get a better teacher, which will help them learn more... well, you can see where this is going.

TEACH THE CLASS YOUWANT TO TAKE... and your students will want to take it, too.

Shine a Light

As teachers, we are responsible for many students at a time, and figuring out how to best meet their needs and help them learn can become overwhelming. Here's a video from Jane McGonigal's site SuperBetter that shows a simple way you can encourage your students when they have positive things to share. She calls it shining a light on their achievements, and it's such a simple way to promote positive behavior and student-centered goals. The video is set in the context of being someone's ally in the game SuperBetter (20 minute TED Talk here) but is equally applicable to teachers being allies of students in the quest for knowledge. So, check out this video and help your students get an epic win.

[As a bonus, you can teach this very simple strategy to other teachers, who can use it on you to shine a light on your wins. A school culture that celebrates each members' wins in an authentic way would be an amazing place to learn and work. It starts with one. It can start with you.]

Check out this quick video here.

Failure... The Great Motivator

It surprises me how many times I learn the same thing I've learned before. [Some might question whether I've learned it in the first place if I suddenly learn it again; that's a different discussion.] The point is that the different circumstances breed the same result and something that I've known to be true in one situation becomes obviously true in a new situation. In this case, I hold up exhibit A: failure.

If you ask me why I play any game, I'll say to win. There are a lot of other positive consequences for playing, such as enjoyment, camaraderie, proficiency, and progress, but ultimately, I play to win. So here's the question: does winning lead to playing more?

I suppose in some situations winning leads to more playing. When you first start a game, if you don't win fairly early on, you'll become bored and quit [think: casinos]. If you play often but don't win for a long time, you may grow frustrated and quit [Candy Crush- it used to be my favorite game, but I've been stuck so long I don't' want to go back. Sorry, CC, I think I have to break up with you... and it's definitely you, not me]. But come to think of it, is winning causing you to play more or is it the possibility of winning that is at work here? Once you don't feel the potential to win, you're done.

That's a keeper for educational connections: Once you don't feel the potential to win, you're done. As in, when the game becomes so stacked against you that you can't see any outcome in which you "win," you no longer want to play. How many students have become so defeated by the game of education that they just don't want to play anymore? These are the kids that drop out or cheat or coast in remedial classes that they are too skilled to be in. In essence, they've rewritten the rules of the game so that they can- in their own way- get a win.

So once kids get to high school and this lose-lose mentality is ingrained, how do teachers reengage students in the education game? I know for me, if I didn't see a way to win, I'd never play. And after losing for a long time, one win here or there isn't going to convince me that the game is worth my time, especially if the big payout is years down the road. I've got lots of ways to win- games I create, games with family, friends, coworkers, strangers and nemeses online- and I'm not talking board games here. I'm talking life games. I'm talking high-stakes, make-or-break, life-changers.

So if losing is such a deterrent to playing, how can failure motivate anyone? The answer to that is simple- because failing and losing aren't the same thing. More on this tomorrow!

What I Learn from Video Games Part 2

If you read yesterday's post, you'll know I'm a sucker for a great game. In fact, I credit Jane McGonigal's book Reality is Broken with legitimizing my love of gaming in the academic world. How amazing her job must be, to always be gaming... heaven!

Anyway, I wanted to continue on my gaming-connecting path and take a look at some other ways that video games- and the lessons I've learned from them- have made me a better teacher.

#1-At first, you don't have to know what you're doing to do it. See Part 1 for details on this gem.

I guess this applies to the art of teaching as well. You don't have to start out as the greatest teacher in the world; in fact, if you think you are the greatest  teacher in the world your first year, you're probably delusional and shouldn't be around kids. Nobody starts out as great. You might know a lot, but applying it in a real-world setting has plenty of challenges- managing a room full of students, managing your own knowledge of students, curriculum, and best practices, finding time to have a life outside of teaching, and figuring out all the power trips and pitfalls in a new (and constantly changing) work environment. I know plenty of amazing teachers that are still learning- and that's probably what makes them amazing.

You don't have to know everything about what you're doing to do it. You don't need to know everyone's name to step foot in the teachers' lounge, know every reading strategy to start reading a book, or know every classroom management technique to start the first day of school. Knowing those things may make your job (and life) easier, but it's not necessary to getting the work done. So stop freaking out about what you don't know, and just do it.

#2- Lay the foundation early and keep adding to it.

Video game lesson #2 comes directly from my current addiction, Knights and Dragons (as well as myriad other great video games. Foundations can consist of skills or knowledge, but it's important to set the stage for future play/ learning by building a firm and broad foundation. I actually got stuck on this part of my current game because I was working so hard to complete quests. The instant gratification of completing a quest was keeping me from seeing the big picture- namely that I needed to upgrade my armor in order to complete the quests. I kept getting stuck, dying just before I could complete each quest, and the heart of that failure was a neglect for building a strong game foundation.

So, here are the basics of the game. You build structures that generate gold. You collect that gold and use it to pay for armor for your knights. You can pay to forge armor together to create stronger armor at higher levels. Stronger armor means that you can withstand greater attacks by monsters. You fight monsters to collect building blocks that allow you to craft different types of armor. Gold pays for the armor, but you must have the building blocks- fire shards, stone slabs, dragon scales, etc.- to make the armor. You earn the building blocks by battling monsters in different game arenas. Quests guide you through the game arenas and push you to conquer more and more levels. [There are more pieces than just that, but that's enough to get you to my analogy.]

The quests push you to move forward, sometimes before you have the foundation to support a forward move. Ultimately, you can't move forward until you have a high enough level of armor to beat the monsters at the game arena. But you don't know if you have strong enough armor until you test it out. Failure means you have to wait to heal before you can try again. Winning building blocks to create better armor means you have to go back to game arenas you've already moved past in order to defeat monsters you've already beaten and earn enough building blocks to create better armor- the goal of which is to defeat monsters that are much stronger.

So, here's the analogy to education. Students build learning habits (structures) that generate access to information (gold)- the better the habits, the easier it is for students to access new information. Students collect that information and craft it into knowledge (armor). The more information you have, the more knowledge you can build. But information alone is not enough to build knowledge- students need skills (building blocks) to craft information into knowledge. This knowledge helps you pass tests/ solve problems (monsters)- both school-based and real-world. The more problems you solve, the more your skills improve and the easier it is to build more knowledge. Getting better, faster, and more adept at solving problems makes future- tougher- problems easier to solve.

Then, there are quests. In the field of education, we call them standards. Whether your school is on Common Core or State Standards, you have objectives that students are expected to accomplish in a particular time frame- before moving on to the next level. Let's continue with this quest analogy, because it offers some key insights into education as a whole. Quests move the game forward. They set expectations for what the next big move should be and put objectives into a logical sequence. That's great- clear, simple guidelines that help students navigate from one learning activity to another and maximize their educational experience.

Here's the problem... or problems. First, students don't always know what the standards (quests) are. I'm not a big fan of posting standards on the board- even in kid-friendly language- because it doesn't really mean anything to students unless completing the quest grants some form of reward. [We'll talk about rewards later.] Second, quests should be big objectives and as such require time to secure all pieces and complete. If you look at only English Language Arts, there are four Common Core strands (reading, writing, speaking/listening, and language) and 42 Anchor Standards if you split reading into literature and informational text. That's 42 quests in nine months- for just one subject! Quests take time, energy, dedication, and a sense of purposefulness- by the one on the quest, not the guide. Good luck with that.

Finally, quests don't take into effect the differences in questers (students). Some students start school with strong foundations- lots of skills and information to craft into knowledge with which to solve problems and gain more skills. Some students start school with no foundation and have to work to build it from scratch. Some students are better strategists than others. Some students have more time to quest than others. Some students "get" how to work the system and accomplish more. Some students have extra money to buy a "Mountain of Gold" or a "Dragon's Bounty" and start with a clear advantage (I'm back to the actual Knights and Dragons game now, but the same principle applies.)

To bring it around full circle, the point is this. Building strong foundations is important to accomplishing any quest- whether the quest is fair, reasonable, or even known is irrelevant to this fact. In order to build a great foundation, you have to keep working at it. You have to build and add, build and add, build and add, then test. If you want to know how well you've built it, you've got to test it, analyze the results, and evaluate the next round of additions. Keep building and adding to your repertoire of teaching strategies, knowledge of environment, curriculum and materials, and all of the outside factors that influence how effectively you teach. For every step up into new knowledge, build two steps out for support. And remember, it's the little things you do that add support for the big risks later on.