Week 4 of the course saw the teams being given an exercise that involved building a game around the Google Earth platform. Team 2 member, Nicholas Palmer, got the ball rolling by providing a useful mind map of the task at hand - this instantly gave us a quick, ready visual aid.

There was some suggestion that we should have some learning outcomes, which I, personally, was not keen because a) we didn't have an idea for a game; and b) is there such a thing as attributing learning outcomes to a game? attributing rules to a game, yes! but learning outcomes??

A quick Google search trawl came up with the following resources that might provide us with some inspiration for a game, included:

• Google Earth blog
• Google Earth Outreach
• Google for Educators
• Top 10 Games with Google Earth
• Google Earth Community

Marie Leadbetter suggested that we should meet up "virtually" using Skype to discuss the project and Bill Babouris gave the team the idea for a game based up the recently conceived New Seven Wonders of the World - the game idea was tentatively centred around the notion of a "knowledge quest".

On Wednesday evening of Week 4, the team met via Skype to thrash out the aims and objectives of the game and to decide who was going to contribute to what. It should be said that this was the most amazing brain-storming, project management session ever conducted virtually. We went from an idea to a fully-realised project plan in 1.5 hours.

One of the ideas we liked was a quiz that was created by My Wonder World on Asia. The quiz was created using Keyhole Markup Language (KML) which is an "is an XML-based language schema for expressing geographic annotation and visualization on existing or future Web-based, two-dimensional maps and three-dimensional Earth browsers" which I had been playing with a couple of weeks prior to the team project. Unfortunately, we were not able to see how the KML file was constructed as it had been compressed into a KMZ file. Bill Babouris came up trumps again for finding a KMZ-KML converter that us to uncompress the file to see how it was constructed.

It became very clear to me that the quiz would be very doable and that I probably should be the person to code it as I had already been using it as well as having a long and varied computer programming background. All that remained was to identify the tasks and action points to be done and to assign each one to a team member. By Sunday, all questions, introductory text, images, coding, testing was completed.

An interesting topic that came out of the discussions was the notion of feedback and how it should be presented to the user. We felt that terms like "right" and "wrong" seem too hard and final and that we should endeavour to use more softer, and less negative, language in the feedback boxes. This team exercise turned out to be a very fulfilling and fun ride from "Oh, what are we going to do?" to "Ta-da, it's finished".

I hate asking people for things - I'll buy a whole book of raffle tickets myself rather than try to sell any.  Yet I don't mind when other people ask me to buy a raffle ticket … or fill in a questionnaire. Not usually.

I didn't like being hounded by HESA to return their questionnaire, though - that felt intrusive, or would have if I hadn't already returned it at the second request.  I suppose it depends how many other things a person is juggling - in the last week, a few things I've agreed to do (write references, review papers, be an internal examiner, see students and many other things) have suddenly materialised rather too closely together.  If anyone sent me a survey just now, I'd be likely to ignore it (apart from people on the Research Methods module, of course).

When we ask someone to complete a survey for us, we have no idea what level of burden or anxiety it might be adding to an already overfull intray.  I suppose that is what causes me concern, especially if they see it as a pointless exercise for them.  I'm OK with piloting our group questionnaire on some of my colleagues - so I'm not recording a concern about that here.  While I was reading Robson this morning, I just became very conscious of my reluctance to use surveys in general, other than things that can be done very quickly (like the one-minute paper, as a classroom evaluation tool, for instance). 

When I have used the simple single open question surveys described in my last entry, these didn't put immediate pressure on any individual to stop everything to attend to my research.  Rather, I got a quick response from those who were interested in the topic.  That didn't feel as though it was being intrusive, though no doubt there were some who thought, "oh no - not another email from her".

I think that that my concern about being intrusive means that surveys are not for me.  It possibly also accounts for some of the idiosyncracies of my research history - and some other things that I'm still thinking about. But questionnaire fatigue is a real danger, especially among students.

Big quesion still lingering: do I need to measure learning or learner participation? In an ideal world, the former. But there are probably too many variables to do this. Therefore we have to assume that, based on the literature/theory, increased participation leads to increased learning - as long as that participation is ACTIVE. And from there, we measure participation.

I'm thinking at present that the best research method to do this will be a combination of direct observation and structured interviews (perhaps an attitude scale). Direct observation seems like the most logical method of gauging the extent of leaner participation, via blog, wiki and synchronous communication. Interviews appear a useful way of ascertaining a valuable insight into learners' own experiences, which could supplement data gathered in direct observation - and after all this is very much concerned with their own experience. ...or an unnecessary extra??

"how these 'embodied' role plays compare to avatar-less ones, in terms of your learners' experience" - very good idea, I think.  It must be a key concept of what I'm exploring.  My theory is that the online environment, especially in the form of role-play, might aid these particular learners. But the question is whether a traditional F2F role-play serves just as well!

There's a lot of common ground between our potential topics. Should be useful talking more about them. Are you considering anxiety as a conscious emotion experienced by learners?

Measurement of progress: might take a long time to measure properly - if indeed it can be measured at all, given the number of variables - aptitudes, circumstances, motivation of learners, etc.

Measurement of participation - of active involvement - manageable and, after all, the premise might be that active involvement improves language learning.

I'm half-dreaming of this stuff now - jeepers!

After re-reading, my potential project appears to be part-explanatory (Does extended online role-play cause improvement in particpation / linguistic ability?) and part-emancipatory (extending abilities of learners; enriching their experience). One more than the other? Hmmm... I *feel* that there is more explanation than emancipation going on here.

Is the learning to be measured or the participation evaluated, though?? This question (and its answer) would determine perhaps whether a fixed or flexible design is warranted.

Having got somewhat lost with regard to research topics and methods, I return to my original idea of investigating Japanese learners, their culture and the use of an online role-play course.

I feel strongly that, for me, having a definite dissertation in mind brings a specific focus to the RM course, though it is wise to be schooled in all of the methods.

What lends the project more interest for me now is the idea of designing an in-depth role-play based course that takes place in various online formats, a blend of wikis (collaborative, but in this case I aim to develop a [possibly new] combative wiki activity), blogs (private reflection, a more honest account - in role, though), and synchronous role-play (SL for example?).

Then we will evaluate the premise that Japanese learners benefit from such in-role activity - which is aided by the (relative?) anonymity of the online environment. The hope is that, should this hypothesis be confirmed, such online role-play will be validated for all learning ...but with particular merit for leaners who might express some inhibition in participating face-to-face.

Derived from the OLL course, and mental developments there, would there be value in exploring whether certain online tools are more favourable to learners of a particular learning disposition than others. For example, are wikis less appealing to 'solitary learners' than blogs?

Needs thought...

Let's get one thing clear. I've never read anything by James Newman before other than "Chapter 2: What's a videogame? Rules, puzzles and simulation" - without reading Chapter 1 or a preamble, it's hard to say where James Newman sits on the pantheon of videogame scholars.

To say that this chapter iritated and angered me beyond belief would be the understatement of the millennium. The problem starts with defining what a videogame is. The working, though quite broad, definition offered by Frasca (2001, cited in Newman, 2004, p. 27) worked quite well for me. Frasca says that a videogame is:

"any forms of computer-based entertainment software, either textual or image-based, using any electronic platform such as personal computers or consoles and involving one or multiple players in a physical or networked environment"

So why-oh-why is Newman even mentioning the likes of Furby or Sony's AIBO as being possibly thought of as a "videogame" because they are computer-based. Well, if you followed that line of thinking, you may as well chuck in the microwave and the washing machine to boot; after all, they are computer based as well you know! He then tells us about the two schools of thought on videogames, the narratologists (story telling) and the ludologists (game playing) arguing what makes a videogame what it is today. It's at this point that I lose the will to live as for me, the very nature of videogames lies in the term itself "video" (as in screen) and "game" (as in to play). This argument to define "videogame" becomes rather belaboured and futile. Even the deployment of game genres (Berens & Howard, 2001, cited in Newman, 2005, p. 12), those of:

• Action and Adventure
• Driving and Racing
• First-Person Shooter
• Platforms and Puzzles
• Roleplaying
• Strategy and Simulation
• Sports and Beat 'em-ups 

becomes belittled and not worthy of scholastic scrutiny - and that is what is at the heart of all this, dare I say it, nonsense. Making videogames a "respectable" subject discipline that is recognised for it's academic rigour and scholastic standing. I know some of my more cynical colleagues with scoff at Newman for using his book to justify is monthly salary - well I don't know about that.

The videogame and the various genres does exactly what it says on the tin - that is the nature of the beast. Alongside the videogame, sits the arcade game, the slot-machine game, the mobile device game, the text-based game, etc. as these are part of the same computer-game based continuum. It's the chain of gaming evolution that can be traced and catalogued. Upon this evolutionary scale are those who have survived and those who have become extinct; there are those that have evolved and metamorphised into some new and those that have made minor enhancements and are instantly recognisable.

Most of the reasoned arguments came from Newman's references and not Newman himself (but of course, I could have entirely missed that for being impossibly annoyed with his "scholarly" work). I put this question to my partner's two sons who are both ardent gamers. I asked them: "what is a videogame?" They said a videogame should be:

• entertaining
• challenging 
• have good characters
• have a good plot / story
• good graphics (which would suggest that it is screen based)
• good sound / music
• totally immersive (my word, not theirs, but that is what they meant)
• engaging

I've rattled off a list of characteristics that get mentioned in both Newman's and Gee's work as to what defines a videogame. To say that Newman's chapter iritated and angered me beyond belief would be the understatement of the millennium!

References

Gee, J.P. (2007). What Video Games Have To Teach Us About Learning And Literacy (Revised and Updated Edition). New York, Hampshire: Palgrave Macmillan. 

Newman, J. (2004). Videogames. London: Routledge.

I had a quick look at the site before going to bed last night and couldn't take in the Week 4-5 stuff at all. It wasn't *my* time of day - it's much clearer this morning.  I know this response to times of day very well now, of course - though I didn't find out I was a lark instead of an owl until well after I graduated with my first degree. But the reminder is useful for the current work, especially as we are about to go into a complex group activity.

A a great strength of e-learning is the asynchronous communication that allows people to work at their own preferred or convenient times.  The dialogue becomes a hybrid of spoken and written: faster than letter writing but slower than speech (and therefore more considered).  (I suppose that when there were messengers delivering letters within the same town, the speed of communication might have been similar to that of the discussion board, though not as potentially far reaching.)  The division of the conversation into threads means that the more considered response can still come out later, even if in speech the opportunity might have passed by.  

As well as considering it for team work, it's perhaps important to take timing into account for questionnaires and interviews.  I'm vaguely conscious of this anyway, but I do wonder whether there are any specific implications for the online environment.  Asking the same questions online asychronously, or via Skype or other synchronous medium, or phone or face-to-face could elicit different types of response.  A response can be edited or re-sequenced in some circumstances but not in others.  I've noted before that I will sometimes preview a response and then censor it - if it doesn't "look" right. 

Timing is not the only issue - presence is a big factor.  The absence/presence distinction is already there in questionnaires and interviews, but going online may introduce subtle or major differences. (We are possibly not aware of them all yet.)  How far does the medium affect the validity, reliability and quality of the data?   This is the question I'll have at the back of my mind as I read Chapter 8 of Robson.