That Time I Built an App for my Daughter

Early sketches of my main characters

Earlier this year I had the chance to design and build an educational app for my daughter. She's two
and a half, very energetic, and the reason I do everything I do. In reality, I was asked to build any old educational game as part of a school assignment, but instead decided to make it more meaningful by connecting it to her, while giving us more opportunities to hang out together - even if I was calling it homework.

The reason I wanted to build a game for my daughter is because she loves the iPad™ - but sometimes I don't love her playing it. I struggle with the idea of screen time and the reality of what I see with her when she plays these devices. I don't think that giving children iPads™ is inherently evil, but it is easy for me to see that not all experiences built for the iPad™ are created equal. Sometimes when Lydia gets on the device her eyes glaze over and she doesn't move or react - while other times she laughs and gets engaged; she explores and touches; or she mimics constantly. In order to help her have more positive experiences with technology, my wife or I usually sit with her when she plays, so that we can make sure her experiences are more interactive and uplifiting - and also to make sure she doesn't accidentally buy $100 worth of Smurfberries. While I was watching her, I began to recognize the kinds of experiences that she really responded to, and which caused her to shut down and become a passive "watcher." Then, when I read this article on toddlers, and them needing to learn through free exploration early on, I decided I wanted to put my belief that the tablet could be a device for learning and growth to the test.

The Foundation is Set

So I had an idea of the type of educational experience I wanted to create - one that would get my daughter involved mind and body, would encourage exploration, and would cause her to be her normal playful self while using the tablet - but even in concept it was too vague and provided me with very few design action items. In order to make my game design more concrete, I needed to connect it to a real set of experiences or emotions. And that's when I realized I wanted her to behave the way she does when she plays with sidewalk chalk.

Screenshot, Gameplay Prototype 1 - No, I'm not joking

My daughter doesn't love finger paints, she doesn't like the sticky mess that gets all over her hands, and she doesn't go at anything with reckless abandon like you would expect a 2-year-old to do - but once we got her sidewalk chalk she drew all over everything outside. When she is playing with sidewalk chalk she laughs, is social, makes faces, jumps up and down, shares, interacts, and plays. As an experience it is a perfect contrast to how she acts when she gets on the iPad™ and her face goes dead, and she just sits there. So I had my core experience, I wanted my app to feel, for my daughter, like playing with sidewalk chalk.

Just to be clear, this core experience is not to say that I wanted to make a sidewalk chalk app, but more that the emotions and behavior that experience elicited out of my daughter would be my success metric - I would know I had succeeded by how closely her reaction to the app matched how she played with sidewalk chalk. This gave me something concrete - at least in gaming terms - to design for.

I began prototyping various concepts - drawing apps, apps that let you play with digital clay, apps for poking or stroking a character, etc. I went through several ideas until I came up with what would become Splat! Along the way I was able to pick up extra requirements: usability for young children and tablet apps is a real barrier. Most apps are designed like traditional computer programs, requiring input like the click of a mouse in order for it to register. What this means, in reality, is that most inputs for tablets require both a down and up motion - like a click you have to touch and then take your finger off. Toddlers don't touch apps like that. They expect the app to react as soon as their finger touches it, any time that their finger touches it. Often I will see my daughter get frustrated, and she'll be holding her finger down on the screen, waiting for the device to register the touch, while the device is actually waiting for her to take her finger off to register it. Then, she'll try to touch a button, but her thumb will be touching the screen in the corner, and so the device won't register the finger because in terms of "clicks" you can't have two running at a time. It's easy to understand for people who are used to working with computers, but toddlers expect something to happen every time they touch the screen - and the joy comes in the surprise of what does happen.

Design Process

Somewhere around Prototype 10...

My design process revolves around iteration and playtesting. I like to use playtesting and rapid prototyping to work out my greatest fear on a project at any given time, and then when I feel confident I've conquered one design fear, I move onto another. Hands down, my greatest fear beginning this project was the art. The central concept behind Splat! is that with each touch the toddler is either generating cute, squishy characters, or getting them to make faces. Not being extremely confident in my art skills, I thought to myself that I would design and program the game and then get someone else to do the art. When I did finally realized that if it was going to happen, I would have to do it - I decided to use the same process I use for creating games to create art. I drew hundreds of little characters and then opened my notebook up and showed my 2-year-old. I payed close attention to which drawings she liked, which faces she mimicked, and which she just passed over. Each time I started a sketch session I was able to make a more refined character based on what she had liked, and by the end I had a solid idea of what I could draw that she would laugh at.

Once I had conquered my fear of the art, I made a prototype to test the user interface, and see if my sketches/wireframes were too complex for a toddler. When Lydia played with it I learned more about what types of buttons she knew were buttons, and how her first reaction with any app is to just start hitting anywhere - so I decided to make everywhere a button that would do something. Then I tested the core gameplay mechanic, then I tested the ability to use it to teach colors, then I added changing emotions, and each time I brought it back to my 2-year-old to see what she thought. She was my toughest critic and most honest client. It was very eye-opening to go through the process of learning how to make something that she would be happy with instead of just going with what I wanted to make or thought would look cool or sell well.

I repeated that same process - trial and error with a 2-year-old - until I had a game we both really enjoyed. It took me around 4 months to get it right - but as soon as I had it done it became one of her favorite apps (probably second in line after PBSKids).

That was my process, and while it may not seem like the most efficient way to design an app - I learned more and was stretched more as a designer by having my end-user part of my design team than I had in any project previously or since. I really had to take my agenda out of the interaction, and let her drive what I made - while still trying to sneak in the educational elements.

It's a simple app, but I am very proud of it.

In the End

Final Screenshots

I considered the app design for my daughter a success. It's loaded on her iPad™ now. When her and I play it, we play it together. She laughs, looks up at me, and we have a good time making faces at each other.

That's the success story of my meaningful school assignment, but not the end of the story. I was content for a long time to just keep the experience I gained building and designing as what I got out of the app, and never thought it was the kind of thing I should publish. I'm used to working on teams, and hiding my own ideas amidst the great ideas and work of others. But then a close friend suggested that I publish this app, that it could potentially do some good. I decided to go for it and see if an app I made for my daughter can help other parents and other children. I know she doesn't mind sharing it, so I guess I can too.

Splat! A Creative Expression Game for Toddlers is now available on the Apple and Google Play Stores.

   

Why the Maker Movement May be Just What Public Education Needs

The maker movement is an entire subculture that is currently on the rise in North America, and is characterized by extreme pushes to do-it-yourself. The hundreds of people who have begun to participate in this nationwide movement have one motto: if you want something, make it. Because I enjoy working with my hands and several of my hobbies have a building or making component to them, I had been following the growing movement long before I discovered it was seeping into public education.

Then, when I fully realized all the vast potential for innovation in education that the maker movement held, I was filled with excitement and nostalgic longing. Longing for a world of learning I had found in my basement and carved out of my information-hungry lifestyle, but was never given to me in my many years of education. It reminded me of all those who were close to me that had struggled so hard in public education, and of all the time they spent trying to care about school. I believe that maker-style classes could’ve helped them. 

 

Photo Credit: NASA flickr

Allowing students to participate in the maker movement in schools could unlock a door that leads to the infinite potential of human creativity, and what lies beyond that door is an experience personalized for the student, by they student. 

And yet, the maker subculture in education comes off more like a parent’s, teacher’s, administrator’s, and politician’s worst nightmare. 

Current maker movement involvement in education has resulted in children being told to play with fire, entire classes of fourth graders running free with legos, and hundreds of after-school programs where students are given the resources to make things. Make what, you say? It really doesn’t matter. 

And that’s where the fear springs from. Every class or school that really adopts the maker philosophy must drop the illusion that they have complete control of what their students learn. And when you stop think about it, that really is scary. If we put 3D printers in classrooms, could someone make a 3D-printed gun? In theory, yes. But in practice it's nothing like that. With the freedom to make there is a potential for students who are given control of their own curriculum to choose to learn bomb-making over calculus, although that’s assuming there are no safety nets or limitations in place

However, it’s not the fear-inducing aspect of the maker movement that gets me excited. It’s the idea that the process whereby I have been learning my entire life could potentially be implemented in schools. I’m talking about Autodidacticism. 

The maker movement provides the first truly viable method for allowing students to teach themselves.

Let me illustrate a maker approach to learning, hopefully it will add context to the situation.

First, a student—currently it’s usually a student of life rather than a student of a certain institution—must choose something to make. Students presented with this wide opportunity for creativity tend to stick to the conventional—something they know—but it is important to step slightly out of one’s comfort zone. Otherwise no learning happens. Let’s imagine for a moment that our example student (a true child of the nineties) decides he wants a Rocketeer rocket pack. This student will immediately find that there is a laundry list of skills and knowledge that he yet lacks in order to make his item, not the least of which is some geometry, and maybe even some calculus. One thig for sure, there is no more asking, "When will I ever use this?"

Now the student has a reason to learn, and it was born out of his or her choice. Nothing is forced on them.

In the research and learning phase of the build, the student will no-doubt find out that they are but one of a whole community of people who just have to have that Rocketeer jetpack. The student will find and connect with more people with interests and passions just like him or her.

And here’s the greatest part: it never ends. When you make something yourself, you know all of the faults and all of the flaws; you have a natural motivation to make more; and the process always helps you identify what you are truly passionate about. Some students in this scenario would abandon the jetpack halfway through because they would find that they would rather build a computer or write software, which then sucks them into the fascinating world of robotics; Some students will find themselves unsatisfied with the prop, and will use their fabricating skills to create an actual one-man flying machine; and others still will be completely satisfied with their jetpack creations and move on to more items from film and pop-culture to fuel their craze for nostalgia and fandom. 

The maker subculture welcomes them all. 

If only more schools could welcome this type of learning, I think they would find that more students could maintain interest and become engaged in their education, and more students would recognize the journey that learning represents, and the marvelous places it can take you.

Post a comment with your thoughts or questions. Thanks for reading!

The obstacles facing the implementation of ‘Gamification’

Education, like all industries, experiences large “game-changing” innovations and improvements, as well as a great deal of fads, or faux innovations that are initially pushed by some very passionate pioneers, and later shown to be less helpful than they pretended to be. For example, a recent fad in the education industry was the concept of “learning styles,” wherein every student learned in different manners from one another and so learning content had to be presented in several “styles” so that the broad spectrum of students and learning styles could be able to learn. I remember that being discussed when I was in school.

Yep, that was a fad.

That’s why ‘Gamification,’ a relatively new would-be innovation to the education industry is under constant fire. There have just been too many fads, and this one really sounds fad-ish.

However, I believe there is some real value to be had from the gamification education ‘fad.’ I will be covering these values in future posts because in order for gamification to provide any value to the education system, it will need to overcome a few obstacles:

• Fidelity
• Difficulty of development
• Misconceptions in Motivation

If developers cannot overcome these obstacles in the gamification of educational materials, I predict that there will have been a lot of money with very little return on investment. And in education, there is usually little to invest in the first place, so wasted money is just not an option.

Before moving on, let’s take a moment to define some terms.

Gamification is a broad term for the integration of video game and other game mechanics or game dynamics into a website, service, community, campaign, or other application. Basically, gamification is the processes of making something resemble a game or video game in any way.

Gamification in education includes the implication of educational leaderboards by some institutions, the ability to share “achievements” in an educational setting, progress bars that represent the amount of educational material remaining, or the use of actual game scenarios to teach, test, and review educational concepts.

Now back to those obstacles.

One of the greatest obstacles facing the gamification of educational materials is the idea of maintaining educational fidelity. If gamification is going to be of any use to students, the games that are used for education cannot be far removed from the skills or concepts they are trying to teach.

Simply put, you can’t actually learn to play tennis from Wii Sports.

Sorry guys, this won’t get you into Wimbledon.

However, I should probably point out at this point that traditional education has a hard time maintaining fidelity as well. 

 This would be a perfect educational tool for training 1920’s-era gangsters.

The second obstacle gamification must overcome to become a viable option for improving education is the difficulty and cost involved in development. Creating courses that resemble games require a great deal of work up front. Programming, content development, video creation, animation, and any other gamification preparations have to be done ahead of time. A biology teacher turned his class into a video game experience himself, and it required him to work on it his entire summer previous to that school year just developing a video game experience for the students. This isn’t something that can be done on the fly.

Finally, the biggest obstacle that educational gamification has to overcome is the multiplying torrent of misconceptions that follow it around.

Several people believe that if we can get our education system to better resemble video games, we can get our student as hooked on algebra as they are on Angry Birds. 

 “All you need to do in order to kill the pigs is solve for x.”

Other misconceptions surrounding gamification include the belief that it means literally turning every course into a game, that gamification is only possible on basic (pre-K) courses, that it involves putting educational material on gaming platforms like Xbox or Playstation, and that the gamification of educational materials is only possible in skill-based courses (like woodshop) but not in idea-driven classes (like philosophy).  

If these misconceptions cannot be overcome, gamification will be dead in the water.

However, if we can recognize that gamification is not trying to make our classes as fun as Call of Duty, there are several concepts that we can learn from games and gaming that will improve our education system. As long as gamification is not used to try and sell our education system to the children who use it, especially if they are given the option between algebra and Call of Duty, it has a lot to provide us. Educational games will never be as fun as regular games, and I’m ok with that. At least they will be more fun than traditional education.

Stay tuned for future posts on the benefits that can be gained from the gamification of educational materials.