Are Video Games Helping or Hurting Our Kids?

For as long as we've had computers in our house, my husband and I have struggled with decisions about how often (and for what purposes) our kids should be allowed to use them. Like most parents, we tried to shield our kids from inappropriate online content and potentially harmful contacts, and we regularly encouraged them to go outside and "play in the real world." 

At some point, though, it became obvious that the benefits of allowing kids to use computers outweighed any disadvantages. As someone who has used computers productively for many years, I couldn't see the point in telling my kids they couldn't use computers at all. So, my questions about computer usage soon changed from "whether" to "what" and "how much." While my kids were still young, I supervised their usage and tried to steer them to safe websites or games that seemed educational (such as Reader Rabbit, Treasure Mathstorm!, and The Oregon Trail). However, as they got older, and the video games got less "educational," I started to worry about how much time they were spending in front of a screen. Had I made a big mistake in allowing those games into our home?

I admit there were days when I was tempted to pull the plug and ban video games entirely, but then I was reminded (probably by my kids) of my interest-led approach to homeschooling. Did I really believe what I had been saying about allowing children to follow their passions? If my son was fascinated by video games, shouldn't I try to learn something about them? Did I really know enough to pronounce them "a waste of time"?

My reason for writing this blog post is to share what I learned about gaming. First, I recommend the following two articles, which debunk the most common myths about video games:

• "Reality Bytes: Eight Myths About Video Games Debunked" by Henry Jenkins. An essay on the impact of gaming. Accessed from the PBS companion site for The Video Game Revolution, KCTS Television, 2004.
• "Video Games Don't Cause Children to be Violent" by Michael D. Gallagher, U.S. News and World Report, May 10, 2010. 

Starting with Why

"All leaders must have two things: they must have a vision of the world that does not exist and they must have the ability to communicate it." —S. Sinek

I've recently finished reading Start With Why: How Great Leaders Inspire Everyone to Take Action by Simon Sinek. His TED Talk ("How Great Leaders Inspire Action") interested me for several reasons.

1. As a home educator, I have worked to inspire not only my own children but also others who have questions about home education, such as: What do I need to know to teach my own children? Where do I find curriculum? How can I start my own support group? 
2. As someone who would like to see better alternatives to traditional education, I am curious about why some teachers in schools are able to inspire students while others are not. By studying what makes teachers effective leaders, perhaps I can become a more inspiring teacher myself.
3. As a mentor, I wanted to explore Sinek's ideas about leadership so that I could share those ideas with young adult students who are interested in becoming leaders themselves.

Leadership isn't just for CEOs and Presidents. As Sinek describes it:

"Just about every person or organization needs to motivate others to act for some reason or another. Some want to motivate a purchase decision. Others are looking for support or a vote. Still others are keen to motivate the people around them to work harder or smarter or just follow the rules." 

When Your Students Know More Than You Do

As a home educator, I quickly discovered that one of the problems with using a pre-packaged or "canned" curriculum is that they are usually sold by grade level. For each grade, standardization prescribes a specific set of topics within arbitrary categories (such as "math," "science," and "social studies"). There are various pros and cons to this approach, but one of my main concerns is that there's little consideration for what a child may already know. If the curriculum is designed for a preschooler who has had little exposure to the world, lack of novelty may not be a major concern: most of the material in a packaged curriculum will likely still seem new (although not necessarily interesting); however, for a high school student who has grown up with access to the internet, there's a very good chance that large portions of the curriculum will cover familiar subjects. Not surprisingly, students who aren't learning anything new are likely to become bored and may even resent being "taught" something they could just as well teach themselves.

I've always enjoyed pulling together a custom curriculum. I'm thankful to writers like Rebecca Rupp (author of Home Learning Year By Year: How to Design a Homeschool Curriculum From Preschool Through High School) and others who have helped me with the do-it-yourself approach. I've seen how home educators who are willing to create their own curriculum can build on what their children already know. They save time by avoiding unnecessary repetition and seize opportunities to connect one learning experience to another. Almost unconsciously, we draw on our families' existing knowledge and shared memories to enhance our understanding of new problems and concepts.

Similarly, when I have offered brief workshops or year-long classes for homeschoolers, I've generally either known all of the kids well (as friends of the family) or have had an opportunity to get to know them as I continue to offer classes, year after year. This makes it easier for me to choose topics, readings, and activities that are most likely to interest them. There is, however, a difference between assuming I know what these kids will want or need to learn and asking them to tell me. Even if the kids are my own, or are kids I have known for many years, I usually ask them outright what they want to know or do. Recently, I made the mistake of not asking, assumed too much, and felt embarrassed by my ignorance.

I was busily planning a course on Digital Literacy (Building On Ted Talks) when I learned that several students who (I hope!) will be in my class next year were actively collaborating on a blog ("King Lear"). How exciting and humbling it was for me to discover that they were already sophisticated bloggers, skilled at writing interesting posts, incorporating eye-catching images and relevant links. Suddenly, my plan to ask them to read Tris Hussey's Create Your Own Blog: 6 Easy Projects to Start Blogging Like a Pro seemed lame. Sure, some of the other kids in the group—the ones who hadn't spent much time online or weren't yet experimenting with blogging—might need help, but they wouldn't need nearly as much tutoring or encouragement as I had imagined. They could just as easily learn from their peers as from me.

Now that I realize my mistake, I wonder what other assumptions I've been making. In what other ways are these teens "thriving online" (to use Howard Rheingold's phrase)? What do they know how to do, and what would they still like to learn? What experience or wisdom might I still be able to share?

I've started to re-examine my plans for next year. I intend to meet with the kids a few times over the summer to ask for their input, discuss what we will study, and decide how we will structure the class. Although I have some definite goals in mind, I'm trying to stay open and flexible.

In the future, I hope I will remember how essential it is to truly know students before imagining I have something to teach them. What interests them? What skills and subjects have they already mastered? What might they be able to teach me or their fellow students?