On Grief And Farming (A.K.A. Me and My Arrow) Pt. 5

Approximate Reading Time: 4 minutes

 

Arrow and Rubic

Once we knew we would not be able to keep Rubic, we started looking for a replacement.

Rubic

This is one of the many many places where having a reputable, caring breeder comes in handy. Not only did Rubic’s breeder (Grazerie) help us find a new puppy, but she ALSO helped us find a perfect new home for Rubic (where she still lives happily ever after). I’ll write more about Rubic another time. This is (in a round about way) Arrow’s story.

Arrow (behind) and Odin (in front) in early 2014.

Enter Odin.

Odin (LGD 4.0) came from the same breeder as Rubic, and we took him knowing he was born with a number of challenges (another advantage of dealing with a knowledgeable, ethical breeder). He was not entirely sound, but that was absolutely OK.

Together, Arrow and Odin were an ideal team for a small holding like ours. Up until this spring, that is.

You see, Odin’s eyesight is not the best (he has cataracts). He gets around just fine, but he really doesn’t like going into a dark place from a light place (such as from the sunny outdoors into the dim rabbitry. That’s not really a big problem, and in some ways, it’s useful. It means I can leave the door to the rabbitry ajar and know that Arrow can get in and out, but that Odin won’t. Arrow can escape the heat and snooze in peace. He can also hide away from thunder (which he hates).

Arrow always likes to take his dinner out to the field. Perhaps he likes to eat in peace.

Arrow turned 12 years old in May 2017.  Last year he had a number of tumours removed from four different places on his body – all of them benign. However, over winter, he started having occasional trouble getting up. He’s a BIG guy – about 130 lb – so helping him up is no small task.

He’s been slowing down slowly for some time, but this spring I realized he was no longer effective.

We lost 8 of our remaining 11 ducks. At least 3 of them were taken right out of the duck house while they were sitting on nests.

 

Arrow meets Sammy – the only duckling hatched in 2016. Note Odin (and Carlton the turkey) looking on from behind. Note also how Arrow is avoiding eye contact with Sammy. That is exactly how he should behave around his charges.

 

I KNOW it wasn’t Arrow or Odin. Both are exceptionally patient with the birds.

However, it is part of the job of the local predators to know when something is not adequately guarded. We don’t have bears or wolves or big cats, but we DO have foxes and coyotes.

Both have no problem coming right up to the house.

 

When we were struggling with Rubic and needed to confine her during the day to keep her from the turkeys, it wasn’t very long before the foxes started sneaking into the yard and trying to steal ducks.

This spring, I lost 8 ducks within a few weeks, and realized that I’d have to protect them better if I wanted to keep any.

It’s not Arrow’s fault.

I should have seen the writing on the wall sooner.

Lagoland

So now, our ducks are confined to the inner yard – the area known as “Lagoland”. This where the dogs spend most of their time and so the fox will not chance taking a duck from there. There is no easy way to get in and out without being noticed – especially not if you are carrying a duck.

Kipa (our cat) and the foxes knew and respected each other.

I have no illusions that it is fox-proof – I’ve found fox poo on TOP of the rabbit hutches – but I DO know that foxes are unlikely to push their luck too far.

So, we have a new puppy “on order”. She is another Sar (like Odin and Rubic), and should arrive sometime in October.

If Arrow is still around then, he will likely pretend she doesn’t exist – just like he has with the other four puppies (2 of them Rotties) he has helped raise.

Arrow, at about 10 weeks.

You see, if Arrow had a religion, he would be a Buddist.

He is fundamentally non-violent, and he expects us all to handle things in a calm, reasonable matter, and is deeply insulted when we fail.

If I yell at him, he simply leaves. He has, in his ENTIRE life, growled at me but once, and that was when he was about 10 weeks old and I tried to take a piece of raw chicken from him. I took it from him, of course, because I HAD to win that argument, but the only reprimand he required was for me to growl at him and hold him by the scruff of his neck. After that, he would drop any treat I offered him if he felt his mouth touch my hand.

One time, when he was grown but still young, he was pestering me to pet him. He would do this by walking beside me and pushing his head up under my hand – he is tall enough to do this easily. I obliged a few times, but then I told him to stop. He didn’t. After the 3rd or 4th time I told him to stop, I finally swatted him across the face.

Now, my Rotties would think this is perfectly fair, but Pyrenees come from a different culture and in their world, this is simply not done. I had forgotten that. There is no way I hurt him physically, but Arrow’s reaction was to stop dead in his tracks and stare at me as if to say, “SURELY, you could have figured out a more reasonable way to communicate your displeasure!”

Then he walked away and wouldn’t come near me for three days.

I learned.

In my twelve years with Arrow, I have learned a LOT.

For that, I will be forever grateful to him.

He taught me at least as much as I taught him. Perhaps more. And in return, he has kept my birds, rabbits, cats, etc., safe.


This is the fifth and probably second last in a series of posts about Arrow, and about grief.
I will write the final installment after Arrow has passed, which I do hope is not for a a while yet, but the more realistic part of me knows will likely be in the next few months.


If you are at all curious why I named this guy “Arrow”:

Listen:

 

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On Grief And Farming (A.K.A. Me and My Arrow) Pt. 4

Approximate Reading Time: 3 minutes

Arrow grew into the absolute most trustworthy guardian any human could ever hope to ask for.

He steadfastly REFUSED to harm ANYTHING (that didn’t belong on our property**).

 


WARNING: This is not a fun part of the story, but it IS something many farmers deal with at one time or another…

One time, one of my children made a terrible mistake and forgot to feed and water a group of baby ducks. (I admit, I did not check up on my child that time. Learning that people will trust them and that sometimes it’s important is a VERY important lesson for a child – even if the lives of other critters may be sacrificed in the process). OK, so, my oldest was given the job of looking after a group of young ducklings. He forgot, and by the time I checked on them (2 days later), some had died of thirst, and others, while still alive,  were beyond help. It was a horrible discovery for me, BUT, Arrow, my ever-faithful guardian, had not touched a SINGLE duckling.

I saved those I could, but those who were too far gone were gently laid on the ground to meet their ends naturally.

Arrow checked them all and he NEVER ONCE touched a ducking that was still alive. (I will admit I tried an experiment – I laid out a number of ducklings – some dead, and some near death). Arrow did NOT touch or harm those ducklings who were still alive.


Arrow acknowledging the existence of the “new guy”, Digit, in 2007.

As he got older, Arrow showed me critters who needed my help more than once. He was the most dependable guardian any human could ever hope for.

I once found him diligently licking the feet of a duck that had become stuck to the ground by ice that formed while it was playing in its water tub. It was the depth of winter and about 40 below outside. Arrow could easily have killed and eaten the duck – it was the very embodiment of a sitting duck. Instead, he very likely saved its legs and feet from frostbite by licking them till I could come to the rescue.

Along with Scanner, Arrow became so dependable, that for many years, I stopped thinking about the job he was doing for me altogether.

However, once Scanner died, Arrow became less effective. The very spring after Scanner died, we began to have trouble with coyotes again.

Poor turkey.

One morning I woke up to barking and looked out my window just in time to see a coyote running down our driveway.

By the time I got outside, it was gone, of course, but the damage had already been done. One of our turkeys had been wounded (mortally, as it turned out).

We brought her into the house to try and warm her and clean her wounds, but alas, she died anyways.

That is when I realized that even though our place was small, we still needed two dogs to protect our little flock. It turned out that the coyote I had seen run down the road was one of a pair …. the other had gotten into the yard while Arrow was distracted and tried to steal the turkey. It was the one in the yard who had injured the turkey.

Arrow needed a partner.

Enter:
Rubic:
a.k.a. Gozer: Destroyer of Worlds.
Rubic was, again, an entirely different kind of livestock guardian. She was, in many ways, a perfect storm created by a combination of the best and worst of both the Great Pyrenees and my beloved Rottweilers. I am fairly confident that I understand Rotties, and having lived with 2 LGDs now, I also thought I knew livestock guardians.

Again, I was wrong.

We were not ready.

Rubic is a Sarplaninac.

We failed.

We failed Rubic.

We failed our birds.

We failed our small farm.

Rubic was (*IS*, as she still lives at the time of this writing), an amazing dog, but she was likely never suited to a life as a poultry guardian.

Try as we might to convince her otherwise, she never could resist the allure of the turkeys. After killing and eating her umpteenth turkey, we finally admitted that she needed to live in a place that had no turkeys. She was the first (and so far ONLY) dog we ever had to “re-home”.

 

Through it all, Arrow remained ever-faithful.

**Arrow DID once kill, and mostly eat a muskrat that wandered onto our property. Clearly, THAT critter DID NOT BELONG. An LGD’s job is to make sure ONLY critters that belong get to stay on our property.


This is the forth in a series of posts about Arrow, and about grief.
Stay tuned for more in the coming days.


If you are at all curious why I named this guy “Arrow”:

Listen:

 

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On Grief And Farming (A.K.A. Me and My Arrow) Pt. 3

Approximate Reading Time: 3 minutes

Just so you know, at the time of this writing, Arrow is still with us, but he’s been slowing down for some time, and is now definitely showing his age.


On our farm, we have a number of animals who are NOT meat producers.

There are the horses and donkey (I’ll write about them some other time), but there are also the dogs and cats, without whom I could never do what I do.

The dogs especially.

I currently have two livestock guardian dogs who live outside 24/7 and who protect my poultry and rabbits from local predators.

They do a good job.

They do a crucial job.

I could NOT do what I do without them.

They make it so I can sleep soundly at night because I know someone is protecting the defenseless critters here.

Saying goodbye to Digit. My heart dog, and, very likely, also my son’s. (This was taken while we were waiting for the vet to come out to release Digit from his pain.)

And THIS is where my feelings of grief come into focus.

I have had a total of four livestock guardian dogs (a.k.a. LGDs).

Our introduction to livestock guardians in 1997. We could not have hoped for a better teacher than Scanner.

One, our very first –  Scanner –  a Great Pyrenees (born in 1997), lived to be nearly 12 and taught me a great deal about LGDs, as well as about dogs in general.

Scanner, my first Livestock Guardian, and the best teacher I ever could have hoped for, on her last day (she had a rather large and aggressive tumor on her mouth.).

In my hubris, I actually thought I “knew” dogs, after having lived with one breed (Rottweilers) for 25 years. Scanner taught me that I actually I knew next to nothing.

Scanner was an amazing dog.

She was kind, fair, and fierce. She protected our birds, faithfully and alone, for many years.

She broke up goose fights by pushing between the warring factions, and accepting their indignation and abuse without protest. That is something I have never had the courage to do.

Scanner was an amazing asset and friend to her last day.

We acquired our second LGD (Arrow) in 2005, when Scanner was 9. Scanner helped us raise him, and helped ensure that Arrow grew into a kind, respectful, solid guardian of all things on our farm.

Baby Arrow, in 2005.

We started him as all good puppies should be started: loose ONLY when under supervision, and confined when not – in his case in a large chain-link kennel with a choice of shelters. He, as dogs often do, had other plans. He became effectively un-containable at around 5 months of age. He was determined to stay with Scanner where-ever she went.

There was NOTHING I could build that would keep him in, so eventually, I quit trying.

Arrow stayed in the yard with his mentor, Scanner, but NOTHING I came up with would separate him from her.

Now 5 months is WAY too young for a puppy to be left unattended with stock, but my opinion on the matter didn’t seem to matter, and, for a while everything was great!

Inevitably though, puberty hit.

Arrow became rambunctious.

When a juvenile, “loose” LGD becomes rambunctious, he almost always focuses that energy on his charges. So, Arrow killed some of my birds. Actually, he killed quite a few of my birds. He seemed to especially like my guinea fowl. In fact, he liked them SO much that in one week he killed (and ate) eight of them.

I’m still convinced he did not intend to kill them, but when a rambunctious, 100(ish) pound puppy plays with a 5(ish) pound bird, the poor bird quickly becomes EX-livestock.

Scanner and Arrow, on the job.

I didn’t know what to do. There was nothing I could build that would keep him contained, and yet I knew he was too young to be loose without guidance.

Perhaps I could reason with him.

(Don’t laugh…. I’m far from the first person to try this.)

I told him that if he killed all of my birds, he would no longer have a job, AND, if he had no job, there was no compelling reason for me to keep him. I don’t know if he understood me, but those guineas were the last critters of mine he ever killed.

He stopped killing my birds.

(Of course, it is entirely possible he simply grew out of it, but, then again, WHO KNOWS?)

Arrow, Scanner, and Kipa, the cat, chillin’ together.

Arrow grew into the absolute most trustworthy guardian any human could ever hope to ask for.

He steadfastly REFUSED to harm ANYTHING (that didn’t belong on our property**).

 


This is the third in a series of posts about Arrow, and about grief.
Stay tuned for more in the coming days.


If you are at all curious why I named this guy “Arrow”:

Listen:

 

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On Grief And Farming (A.K.A. Me and My Arrow) Pt. 2

Approximate Reading Time: 4 minutes

I’m the one on our farm who has primary responsibility for all the lives that exist on that farm. I’m the one who makes almost all of the life and death decisions on our small farm, even though I’m not the one who usually carries out the deed.

This is Wednesday, at the vet’s the day I had to decide to put her down. She had been the most adventurous kitty we’ve ever lived with, and, after 13 years, it finally caught up with her.

Still, it’s me who decides whether or not something on the farm lives or dies.

Mostly, it’s a tolerable decision:
the animal is not one we had planned to keep for breeding and it is ready (i.e. in prime condition) for butchering.

I *could* use the euphemism “processing”,

but let’s not.

I love all my critters far too much to try and gloss over their deaths with euphemisms.

I love all my critters – even the ones I kill.

The truth is that most of the critters who are born on our farm are destined to become someone’s dinner, and that dinner is both tastiest, and tenderest, when those critters are in their prime (i.e. still pretty young).

Let’s not beat around the bush – these animals are killed. The vast majority of the life on my farm ends (i.e. dies) when *I* say. Sometimes it is because I honestly believe I am ending their suffering, but most often, it is because they are the right size to be of value to us for meat. The reality of the world is that MOST life on the planet ends up being food for other life on the planet*. That’s how the planet survives. The Grim Sower.

MOST of the time, the remains of the critters we sacrifice here are used completely – they feed the human members of the farm as well as the dogs who protect both them and us. It’s a “circle of life” that makes sense, and seems appropriate –

  • so long as those critters are well looked after while they are alive.
  • so long as their lives are good (which also includes safe).
  • so long as their deaths are respectful and humane.
  • so long as their remains are not wasted.

Most of the time this works pretty well and while I do mourn the lives that are taken, I realize that the reality is that they were given life specifically for this purpose. They would never have been born if not for the fact that we want to eat them. They are “meat” animals, and with the exception of those very few who end up being kept as breeding stock, the majority of the lives born on this farm are destined to become meat on our table.

There are exceptions though.

On our farm, we have a number of animals who are NOT meat producers.

In some cases, I am the one who must decide when one of our partners (i.e. the critters who help us be successful in what we are trying to do) is at the end of their life.

THAT is always a heart-wrenching decision.

Arrow is one of those, and he is nearing the end of his life.


This is the second in a series of posts about Arrow, and about grief.
Stay tuned for more in the coming days.


If you are at all curious why I named this guy “Arrow”:

Listen:

The Grim Sower:

“Human beings, conscious of their personal mortality, are somewhat obsessed with the Grim Reaper, if only because they dimly see Him coming and they don’t like it. In consequence the Grim Reaper plays a central role in humanity’s usual story of evolution: ‘nature red in tooth and claw’, where creatures strive to out compete each other in a desperate no-holds-barred battle for survival. Only the winners of these battles, it is said, get to perpetuate their kind: the losers just die, and in this way organisms with ‘good genes’ proliferate at the expense of all the rest. It’s a simple, compelling picture, which seems to explain the general increase in the complexity of life-forms.” p.25

“In fact, in the evolution both of complex organisms and of mind, the central role is played not by the Grim Reaper, but by the Grim Sower, who starts things up by their billions so that nearly all of them have no option but to die before they have reached maturity. The popular view of ‘natural’ animal lives has been romanticized to such an extent that they are universally seen as idyllic, whereas actually the reverse is the case. Nearly all wild animals die without breeding. For example, from the 10,000 eggs that a female frog lays during her lifetime, on average, 9,998 die for each pair that survives to replace the parents and breed. A more extreme example case still is the cod: a single female lays forty million eggs, of which about 3,999,998 die for each pair that survive to breed. This is what food chains are all about, and it’s the system that started with eukaroytes, who made death a necessary part of life.”
p 25-26

“… there is a huge advantage to making vast numbers of potential offspring and throwing most away. The advantage is that you can be selective cheaply, and sift through them for the occasional accidental good one. Indeed you can produce a few high-quality items even if the ‘technology’ needed to make thousands of them reliably doesn’t exist at all.” p2

Stewart, I., & Cohen, J. (1997). Figments of reality : the evolution of the curious mind. Cambridge ; New York: Cambridge University Press.

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On Grief And Farming (A.K.A. Me and My Arrow) Pt. 1

Approximate Reading Time: < 1 minute

Arrow.

On a farm, we often have to cope with grief while the object of our grief is still here.

We are far from unique in this. Lots of people are forced to deal with this when they find out their loved ones have some terminal illness (I’ve faced THAT a few times myself too).

This is Ray (the duck) who had been blind for nearly 4 years before he died of natural causes, at the ripe old age of 17.

However, on a farm, we are faced with this more often than most.


Ra (rabbit), Ray (blind duck) and Helen (elderly duck) enjoying retirement together.

Old animals can be truly wonderful to live with (and more than a few have taught me important things in their twilight time), but as they approach the end, the lives of our senior critters can weigh very heavily on our souls.

In many ways, watching an old critter fade away is harder than if they die without much warning.

Sometimes on a farm (maybe even often) there is one person who has (or accepts) primary responsibility for all the lives that exist on that farm.

On our farm, that’s me.


This is the first in a series of posts about Arrow, and about grief. Stay tuned for more in the coming days.


If you are at all curious why I named this guy “Arrow”:

Listen:

 

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5 mistaken differences between education games and the gamification of education

Approximate Reading Time: 6 minutes

And 12 ways in which these ideas are problematic.

Gamification is generally defined as the use of game design elements in non-game contexts.

Fair enough. But this is pretty much where the article goes off the rails. (She’s not alone).

Source: 5 differences between education games and the gamification of education

I’m sorry. The rest of this post is pretty much a rant, so if you don’t want that, skip to one of my other posts that is more fun.

“Gamification” is a hot item right now, and far FAR too many people don’t really understand what it is, and what it ISN’T. If you want a non-judgmental chart that distinguishes between game and gamification, try this.

This article is one that makes things worse.

 

What this article actually distinguishes between is GOOD VS BAD, and that applies to BOTH Educational Games AND Gamification.

The seriously misleading part in this article is that the Educational Games column has ALL the GOOD and the Gamification of Education column has ALL the BAD.

Truth is, I have seen plenty of examples of BOTH “kinds” of education that fit the description of what’s in column B. I have seen far fewer examples of EITHER kind of education that fit into column A, but I have seen some.

We REALLY REALLY REALLY need to get a way from the idea that one kind of thing can be described using all negative things and another using all positive things. This really looks like a simple example of someone who has shifted the negative description of games for learning onto gamification, without any obvious understanding of what EITHER one is OR of what makes a game good.

 

Keep in mind that lectures can be fantastic, and they can be abysmal. The same is true of every single educational technology. While I would vehemently argue that the medium is NOT simply the vehicle for the delivery of instruction, I would also argue just as vehemently that it is the skill with which you combine your instructional design AND that of your chosen medium that makes the difference.

I’m not saying this is the case for the author of this article (I have never met her), this kind of presumptuous claim most often comes from someone who does NOT understand the medium they are talking about.

And, by the way, PLAYING games is NOT enough to to qualify someone to talk about game design, in the same way that watching a movie does not qualify you to become a film maker. It’s essential that you DO play games, but it is not nearly enough.

Here are five differences between Games and gamification:

1. Educational Games: Points, achievements, and rewards are one element of the system.
Gamification of Education: Focuses on points, achievements, and rewards.

Problem ONE: How are you defining achievements? I’m assuming in the “gamified” way: i.e. simple badges. Because, you know, achievement-based learning is a thing – and a pretty good thing.

Problem TWO: The quote from Jordan Shipiro is from 2014. Now, that may not seem like very long ago, but in the development of gamification for learning, it is, and that makes what he says stale. We HAVE moved on. At least SOME of us have.

“Game-based learning is not gamification. It is about what I see when I see my own kids play video games. And guess what, they don’t pay attention to the score, they don’t pay attention to the rewards, they don’t pay attention to the points. They don’t even care about leveling up. The only thing they care about leveling up is it offers new challenges. It gets fun again…”

You know what? Many games aren’t like this, and they’re STILL fun. Besides, if “flow” is your yardstick for measuring the success of an educational game, I’m afraid you are in for a huge disappointment. While it does happen occasionally, a state of flow is not as common in games as people would have you believe, AND, for some, like some of my favorite puzzle games, the score, the rewards, and the points ARE PART OF WHAT MAKES THE GAME FUN. It’s not only that, sure, but it absolutely PART of it.

2. Educational Games: Strive to present the right level of challenge to the player.
Gamification of Education: Targeting level of challenge rarely considered.

Problem THREE: This pair simply distinguishes between learner centered and teacher centered instruction, and really has nothing to do with games or gamification. Good instruction, regardless of the medium used, could be described as “striving to present the right level of challenge to the learner”, and BAD instruction could be described as not doing that. This is one the Reigeluth’s eight core ideas of his Post-industrial Paradigm of Instruction. I actually published a whole series of articles connecting Reigeluth’s ideas to my gamified course design.

While I would agree with this:

Game designers are experts at presenting challenges at just the right time to meet a particular skill level.

I would hasten to add that most educators are NOT game designers. In fact, a great many teachers (and this goes double for higher ed) aren’t even very good instructional designers. One of the huge differences between entertainment games and educational games is that people play entertainment games voluntarily. It’d be wonderful if we could ignore that pesky little fact, but we can’t. Popular games are popular with the kind of people that like that kind of game AND for whom the particular levels of challenge offered by the game are just right. Those that find the game too hard will not play it. Similarly, those who find the game too easy will also not play it. We don’t have that luxury in the classroom. When we present a game or gamified lesson to our class, we are (usually) presenting it to our WHOLE class. Our students don’t really have a choice. The bright kids will often find it boring, and the struggling kids will often find it too hard. What the kids will likely tell their teacher though, is: “It beats doing another worksheet”. I’d hardly call that success.

3. Educational Games: Narrative and characters common.
Gamification of Education: May include player avatar and/or weak story.

Problem FOUR: C’mon! This is clearly written in such a way as to lead the reader to the conclusion that games are better than gamification. Otherwise, why add the negative descriptor “weak” to one and NO descriptor at all to the other. Perhaps the addition of “awesome” in column one was too obvious? Got news for you; it’s still pretty obvious.

…most games have a story arc and/or characters and most attempts at gamification have weak or nonexistent stories and characters.

Problem FIVE: Really? Are we talking about educational games here, or entertainment games? Because, if you are talking about educational games, there are plenty of examples of lame narratives and weak and nonexistent characters. I can also imagine some amazing story lines and characters for some kinds of gamified lessons. History, Literature, Archaeology, and Anthropology are all subject areas that could easily lend themselves to some really fun and compelling (and dare I say, flow-inducing) narratives.

Also, don’t confuse a simple premise for a game with a narrative. They are not the same.

4. Educational Games: Focus on conceptual change.
Gamification of Education: Focus on behavioral change.

Problem SIX: Both kinds of education can focus on both kinds of learning, and I would say that the majority of educational games STILL focus on facts and drill.

Good educational games should be designed around a theory of learning that identifies the knowledge, skills, and attributes the game targets.

Problem SEVEN: Um, that is true of ALL learning, whether it is a game, a lecture, an assignment, gamification, or anything else you can think of. This does NOT distinguish games from gamification. Rather, like the others, it distinguishes between good and bad education.

 

A learning game is designed to support students, providing scaffolding and opportunity to construct meaning in the service of developing new understanding.

Problem EIGHT: Nope.

Some educational games do this, to be sure, but this excludes a whole bunch of games, such as drill games. Now, many drill games are pretty bad – little more than interactive worksheets, really – but there are also some really GOOD drill games. I’m not sure what kind of “new understanding” The Typing of the Dead provides, but if someone else does, feel free to tell me!

p.s. I really LIKE that game. It is a fantastic example of a drill that works. It does not, however help people “construct meaning in the service of developing new understanding” … not even about zombies.

Although gamification may have levels, it seems they are often tied to an amount of behavior rather than a type of behavior.

Problem NINE: To this, all I can say is,
WOW.
My gamified course design has really very little to do with amount of behavior.
Well, except for that intended to address David Merrill’s chief complaint:

“Appropriate practice is the single most neglected aspect of effective instruction.” (Merrill, 2001, p.464)

So, practice IS important, and there really is nothing wrong with rewarding students in some way for engaging in that practice. However, that can’t be ALL you do.

Problem TEN: As for games NOT rewarding players for their amount of behavior, clearly, the author has never heard of grinding in games, or something like American Truck Simulator.

5. Educational Games: Simulated environment provides player scaffolding.
Gamification of Education: Applied to real environment without scaffolding.

Problem ELEVEN: Now, this really is kind of insulting. It implies that *I* won’t provide scaffolding, since after all, I am the one who designed my gamified course. I’ve come across more than my share of educational games that lacked scaffolding altogether. Providing the appropriate amount of scaffolding is important in ANY kind of instruction.

Gamification applies game principles to the real world, in which students are not provided with accessible understandings of phenomena.

Problem TWELVE: Well, who’s fault is that? It’s the fault of the designer, not the fact that they used gamification.

In the end though, there is ONE thing I can agree with the author on – MOST gamified education designs are really not that good. However, that is ALSO true of most educational games (still), AND a whole lot of other education. For an explanation of that phenomenon, see Sturgeon’s Law.

Source: 5 differences between education games and the gamification of education

Merrill, M. D. (2001). First Principles of Instruction. Journal of Structural Learning & Intelligent Systems, 14(4), 459-466.

Reiguluth. C.M. (2012). Instructional theory and technology for the new paradigm of education. Reusta de Educatcion a Distancia, 32, 1-18.

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Would You Buy This Book: Death to Deadlines….

Approximate Reading Time: < 1 minute

Death to Deadlines: Gamification and Other Subversive Thoughts on Formal Education

With any luck at all, this book will save you countless hours heading down rabbit holes.

a rabbit holeWhile you might find something wonderful in those rabbit holes, this book will get you started on your path to understanding gamification and ways to avoid some of the pitfalls that might ensnare you.

 a rabbit hole - from the inside

We often talk about the value of inquiry-based teaching in Education, but how often do we, as educators, apply the same ideas to us and our own work? How often do we actually “walk the talk”?

I’ve been teaching for 40 years now. In that time, I both fell into and willingly headed down a great many rabbit holes.

I suppose that many people begin to take a longer view of their work once they’ve been doing it for as long as I have, and I’m no different. Some years back, in parallel with my going all in with my gamified approach, I began to ask some fairly fundamental “What If” questions. Such as, “What would happen if I DIDN’T have deadlines for the work in my classes?

Some of the answers I found surprised even me.

This book outlines some of the rabbits holes I’ve been down and what I discovered there.

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Academic mobbing, or how to become campus tormentors | University Affairs

Approximate Reading Time: 2 minutes

Yup.
If anyone wants to know why I gave up a job I had loved for over 20 years (and was VERY good at); why I gave up my tenure,
THIS IS WHY.
People I thought were my friends, whom I had known for years (decades in some cases) either actively turned against me, or simply turned away (pretending/trying not to notice what was being done to me).

For some years, I tried to stay connected to the university in another faculty, but it turned out they were no different. The fact that I did my own thing, had more publications than any of them, and was doing more cutting edge work than any of them made me a threat and they turned on me too.

Contrary to popular myth, having a strong sense of ethics, clear principles, and being very good at what you do are the most common “triggers” for mobbing. People hate it when you raise the bar – the farther below that bar they are, the more they will resent you.

It has forever changed my life – though, I will admit some (perhaps even most) of it turned out for the better.
I am poorer financially.
I have PTSD.
I will never again be as trusting as I was.
I feel unsafe whenever I leave my home.
On the other hand, I am more successful as an academic, author, and designer than I ever would have been had I not been driven out.
My work is internationally known and respected (and I’m NOT just talking Canada and the US).

So, one day, I may well thank those who tormented me for being so small-minded, petty, and unprofessional, because without their pestilence, I might never have become so successful.

I’m pretty sure that’s not what they were going for.

For Professor Caroline Patsias at Université du Québec à Montréal, once a professor at Université de Sherbrooke. If you’re a university professor, chances are fairly good that you have initiated or participated in mobbing. Why? First, because mobbers are not sadists or sociopaths, but ordinary people; second, because universities are a type of organization that […]

Source: Academic mobbing, or how to become campus tormentors | University Affairs

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