Posted in Favorite Teaching Moments, Tabletop Teacher

Adventures in the Role Play Classroom

Schools these days have a lot of trouble deciding what is acceptable for students to access online, and teachers often plan lessons only to find they are thwarted by technological blocks–like when I decided to make videos explaining parts of speech to students only to find out video streaming is not allowed in our school. But the one that bothers me more than anything else is “the category of games has been blocked.”

Now I get it, I do. I locked up my chrome book cart for a week because I was sick of my students getting on video games while I was leading class discussion. But I think we’re going about this all wrong. Because this message says games and school do not mix. Games are for home. When you come to school, you put the games away. But what we’re really saying is: school is supposed to be boring. Think about it. Games are fun. Games are so much fun that we play them for hours. We play them in the checkout line. We play them at the DMV. We play them in the car. We lose sleep telling ourselves, just one more level. Just one more level. Just one more level. Now imagine if you could make school like that. From day one of being a teacher, this has been my greatest goal in the classroom–make my class into a game. The proper term for this is “gamification.”

My most recent foray into this process lead me to create a classroom RPG. In case you don’t know, RPG means Role Playing Game. Think Dungeons and Dragons. It’s basically a method of co-operative storytelling, using dice to determine positive and negative outcomes. There are lots of different RPGs out there, but I made one up, trying to keep things simple for my students. I invented a fictional world (Bell’s Academy for Superheroes), wrote some scenarios, made some character sheets, and gave it a whirl with my students.

Student character sheet from Bell’s Academy

Now, I thought the game was pretty clever. In most RPGs, the characters have stats–numerical values that represent how good they are at something. Stats are usually broad categories, like charisma, strength, and wisdom. These make different things easier or harder for your character to do, or give you bonuses. You generally role dice to determine your stats. In my game, my students had stats in six broad areas–pronunciation, vocabulary, grammar, reading, writing, and speaking–and rather than rolling dice, they ranked themselves in each area on a scale of 0-3. Then, instead of rolling dice to determine how successful characters are at what they do, we used flashcards and assignments to determine success. The stats became attack bonuses–providing extra damage when fighting monsters. Oh, and I laminated the character sheets so we could use dry erase markers on them. I thought this was a particular stroke of genius.

So I handed out the character sheets, and began a role playing game with a group of students who not only have never heard of Dungeons and Dragons, they don’t know what either of those words mean. I test drove it for a week with two different classes and had some fascinating results…

In one class, students began to self-regulate, telling each other to put their phones away because they wanted to play the game.

I also learned that I didn’t need much of a story line. One day, my students’ characters did nothing but go to class. And they still had fun.

And then there were the characters.

One student decided to play Queen Elsa, from Frozen, but she had a secret pet dragon. Another decided shIt also gets students reflecting on their personal values. For example, I presented my students with this scenario: you overhear some teachers talking in the hall about a student who got attacked in the library. Do you follow them and find out more, or do you go to class? Every single one of my students decided to go to class. Every single one of them. I never would have done that. I absolutely would have followed the teachers. And what does that tell you about me versus my students, about who actually thinks school is important?
e had the power of evaporation. A third chose the power of translation. And because she actually helps translate for new students, she didn’t bother to imagine herself with a new superpower–she recognized the one she already had. Other students reflected on their actual lives entertaining, if less poignant, ways, like the students who decided their weaknesses were food.

The game also had students reflecting on their personal values. For example, I presented my students with this scenario: you overhear some teachers talking in the hall about a student who got attacked in the library. Do you follow them and find out more, or do you go to class? Every single one of my students decided to go to class. Had I been playing rather than running the game, I absolutely would have followed the teachers. And what does that tell you about me versus my students, and who actually thinks school is important?

Now, this is not to say there were not problems. For example, what do you do when one of your students writes invicible for their superpower?

Or when you give your players a map of their location only for them to tell you there’s no bathroom.

pencil drawing is hard to see, but this is the third floor of the school.
Student A: Where are the bathrooms?
Student B: On the second floor.

Or if, in the middle of a battle, instead of fighting the monster, your student offers it tacos? I like to imagine this as a real-life scenario. You’re in class. A monster materializes out of nowhere, throws a book at a student. Half the class goes running in terror, the other half tries to kill the monster, and then this girl walks right up to it and says, “would you like some tacos? I’ve got some salsa too.” And the best part is? This is the student that the monster threw the book at.

We talk a lot about autonomy and creativity, and the RPC is a great mechanism for these. The open-ended question of “a monster attacks you, what do you do?” means that students can come up with literally any solution. And sure, if it’s too open-ended, you can always say, “do you want to fight it or run away?” Now when I set about creating this storyline, I drew on gothic literature, and I wanted to incorporate this theme of not letting your emotions control you–because that’s an important life skill. But my student beat me at my own game! She decided that when faced with a conflict, rather than respond with aggression or fear, she would respond with generosity. And she didn’t get there by sitting in a desk and taking notes. She got there by playing a game.

Posted in Good Ideas, Tabletop Teacher

Feeling the End of the Year

Making mondays manageable

It’s May. Which means that I have been frantically locating graduation cards and gifts for my handful of seniors, and that I have such a bad post-testing burnout that I am actually putting more energy into plans for next year than in finishing out this one. It also means that I am spending most of my prep hour watching TED talks on education. One of my favorites so far:

What really stood out to be about this was “the default answer is yes.” I thought about how this would apply in my classroom. My first thought was that my students would say, “can we just play on our phones today?” And this, of course, makes me cringe. Of course, who knows? Maybe that would actually work out. My second thought was that my students have learned just how much I like games. So many a day, they say, “Can we play a game today?” And often, I do say yes. What if I always said yes? Actually, that sounds like a great class. And it sounds like a class that both myself and my students would enjoy. And speaking of games… here’s another TED Talk.

What’s interesting about this guy is that his voice is the reverse of his educational journey. He sounds bored with himself until about halfway through.

So my goal for the end of the year? I’m going to be play testing a what I am calling an RPC–Role Playing Classroom, which I am running through a powerpoint slideshow.

From RPC 1.1
I playtested version 1.0 with a class a couple of weeks ago, and what I learned is that the story doesn’t have to be that different. They’re still students at a school. Only now they have superpowers. And there are ghosts.

I’ll be sure to let you know how it goes.

Posted in Tabletop Poetry (and Other Artforms), Tabletop Teacher

30 in 30 Day 13: The Ghost Saloon

Thirteen being my favorite number, I thought I’d explore it today, following Robert Lee Brewer’s Day 8 prompt. And it meshes well with today’s napowrimo prompt.

There were 13 people inside
when the saloon burned to the ground.
no one knows how it got started…
a match used to light a cigarette
and not properly put out…
a bolt of lightning…
or a good old fashioned stick of dynamite.
Whatever it was, that old saloon
went up like tinder
and didn’t stop burning
Until a rainstorm put it out.
Now, where there were floorboards,
there is a lake.
Even the trees nearby
were too scorched
to grow.
But the old saloon doors remain
in the middle of the lake
untouched.
No one knows why.
Not even the ghosts.

They say those 13 people
never left the lake
They dance across the waters
as if they never noticed the floor was gone
Sometimes the sheriff goes out
to greet new comers passing by.
Though they usually believe
the old saloon doors
were blown open by nothing
but the wind.
Others say they hear
the clinking of glass bottles
or even the sound of the bartender
calling a familiar name.

The ghosts aren’t evil, after all.
They’re as friendly as they ever were.
And would be happy for anyone to join them
physically, that is–
no dying necessary.
Some days, Clarence strikes up his fiddle
And everyone dances
thinking a party may bring folks in
But no one dances better than Lucy,
who would entice every man,
but never did choose one.
Even Will, who blew in
from out of town the week
before the fire
watched her fondly
though he never made a move.
Every day, he swears
that if anyone can dance well enough
to wake the living, it’s Lucy.

While they’re waitin’
Zeke, Hank, and Kit
gather ’round the table
for a friendly game of poker.
When the saloon burned down,
Kit was dressed as man.
But the ghosts have gotten
to know each other well enough
that these days no one cares she’s a woman.
So she lets her hair down
And sometimes even plays darts
with the deputy.
She’s getting good too.
He says if sheriff ever decides
to go on to the other side
he’ll make Kit his deputy.
Though everybody knows Hannah
is the one that’s good at settling conflicts.
She’s just got a knack for it.
Came in the bar to preach
the gospel.
Came the same day as Owen and Nora,
newlyweds who’d planned to rob the place
only it burned down before they could.
Some of the ghosts thought they set the fire
But it was Hannah got them all talkin’ nice.
And now, as they all wait, Nora sings along
as her husband plays piano
to the fishes.