Author Archives: bstokes

As part of my work with Henry Jenkins’ research group on civic engagement, I’ve written a short case study of the Peter Packet Challenge. This is a combined game and “online service learning” project that has real fundraising to fight poverty. I worked on it at NetAid, so it was great fun to revisit it as a scholar.

Here’s the case study: http://sites.google.com/site/participatorydemocracyproject/case-studies/peter-packet

It’s the first time I’ve published anything on embedded reflection, which I think has real potential in games media, given their experiential nature and potential around service learning.  (See upcoming post on a games genre we might call “direct action games.”)

Also on this site are excellent case studies on Invisible Children, PostSecret, Pricescope, Tribute is Not Theft, Anonymous/Project Chanology, Verb Noire, WoW Guilds, Harry Potter Alliance, Racebending, Rang de Basanti & Flash Activism.  Henry’s convening some great perspectives!

This is a guest post I did for The 21st Century Scholar at USC’s Center for Higher Education Policy Analysis (CHEPA).  Thanks for the invite, Zoe!
…

A globalizing world is upon us, but few schools can afford to approach it with experiential learning.  Of course, we already rely on experiential learning to teach music, physics, and foreign languages — but what about globalization?  Only a fraction of our students study abroad, and even those programs could benefit from more experiential learning tools.

Can games help?  Consider a game just launched by the World Bank Institute, called Urgent Evoke. In less than a month, this alternate reality game has engaged 12,000 players from more than 120 countries in a “ten-week crash course in changing the world.”  Sound ambitious?  With games, ambition can motivate participation.  Every Wednesday, a new mission is posted with three parts: (1) learn, (2) act, and (3) imagine.

Some missions are straightforward, while others are wildly creative. Players might use their own camera phones to document how they “increased the food security of one person.” Or they might be challenged to write a blog post identifying their favorite “social innovation strategy” (based on expert reports).  Assessment is embedded: players must provide evidence of their learning in multimedia form, effectively a digital portfolio. Learning is structured around knowledge and skills according to 10 objectives, including “entrepreneurship”, “resourcefulness”, and “collaboration.” Leading scores are posted publicly: http://www.urgentevoke.com/page/top-agents.

This game (and I use the term broadly) explicitly overlaps with the real world online, building skills needed for today’s knowledge economy. In the process, players are pushed into conversation with youth around the world, especially in Africa.  Might it connect to schools?  The designers could easily incorporate textbook examples, or well-studied artifacts. More broadly, such games introduce a new way to structure and motivate learning. We don’t know the impact of Urgent Evoke yet, but given the pressing challenges of globalization, this is one game worth watching.

P.S. — Is the game also whitewashing the World Bank? Some critics have launched a nice parody, calling Urgent Evoke a “crash course in saving capitalism,” and arguing that institutions like the Bank are responsible for some of global poverty’s persistence. Important points. Yet most games lack Evoke’s discursive space, which encourages multimedia commentary across countries.  So I see two challenges: one is whether the critics will be heard within the game’s own discourse channels. Second, if the Bank’s game is only one perspective, who will fund alternatives? (See Alan’s post earlier this week calling for a National Public Gaming Initiative). If the learning of Evoke is powerful, do we need comparative gaming to ensure open minds?

Who can tell an authentic story?  When I was a funder, it was my job to tell the stories of grantees.  Now I am rethinking authenticity in storytelling through a project called Mobile Voices.  (Full disclosure: I am currently a researcher studying Mobile Voices at USC Annenberg, and was previously at a foundation that indirectly supported Mobile Voices.)

At one level, Mobile Voices is a storytelling platform for low-wage immigrants in Los Angeles.  One of my motivations for participating is that Mobile Voices embodies a philosophy of critical reflection on power across a storytelling chain, with implications for all.

To illustrate the chain’s length, consider a funder (previously me), telling a grantee’s story to justify a grantmaking budget: that story might begin with HASTAC and the Competition, including Cathy Davidson and this website.  In turn, Cathy and her team might feature the story of Mobile Voices (a winner of its 2009 DML Competition).  Specifically, they could feature one of the researchers/designers on the project, such as USC professor Francois Bar (e.g., see his interesting blog post on translation in Mobile Voices).  Francois, in turn, might be telling the story of working with Amanda at IDEPSCA, the nonprofit that organizes low-wage immigrants, and co-designed Mobile Voices.  Of course, Amanda would likely be retelling the story of one of the immigrants with whom she works, such as Madelou.   Finally, Madelou is using the Mobile Voices tools and her cellphone to tell the story of one of her fellow workers.  (That’s five degrees of separation!)

Is it authentic for funders to retell the story of a low-wage worker, across five degrees of separation?  Of course not, and I believe that everyone in this chain is working to avoid it — and working to empower low-wage immigrants to speak directly to funding review panels.  But that doesn’t happen often.

One reason is that the chain itself constitutes an important story, one that funders tell to describe impact in terms of the relationships between organizations and individuals, of networks and collaborations.  But the hierarchy of this chain is also particular.  It is a hierarchy of descending public profile, beginning with a major foundation, then HASTAC, followed by a University research group, then the community-based organization, only then the community leader, and at last: a community member(!).  It’s no coincidence that fundraising is decided at the top, and needed most by those at the bottom.

This is likewise a hierarchy of storytelling.  Those at the top have the resources and the national attention to tell their own story — and they carefully protect and cultivate their “reputational assets.”  Those at the bottom don’t just risk being voiceless, they often endure others spreading false stories about them.  This is where authenticity is most clearly needed.  Madelou once explained her tireless volunteering for Mobile Voices in terms of counteracting the hate that is spread about immigrants (e.g., try a Google search for “day laborer” and behold the vile second listing, with its talk of “some of the most violent murderers, rapists, child molesters…” — oye!!).

If there is beauty in storytelling, it comes from the connection forged between the teller and the listener.  And so we must ask, even as low-wage workers reclaim their voice, who is listening?  We must challenge foundations to listen not just to their grantees, but to listen across storytelling chains.  And we must all struggle to listen for the chain itself, to hear its rattles of differentiated power, both linking communication nodes, and inserting spaces between authentic storytellers.  As we make participatory media, Mobile Voices reminds me: we must also strive for more participatory listening.

[This is also cross-posted on HASTAC’s community site.]

This area is intended as a sandbox for my ideas, critiques, tools, plans, etc.

It is a somewhat public space — much more so than my usual paper-based journaling.  My goal here, beyond the opportunity to share and discuss in more than 140 characters, is primarily one of personal reflection.