In A World of Their Own – the features of immersive play

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If you ever have the opportunity just to observe some of the youngest learners in school playing together, make sure you take it. It remains a constant source of fascination and wonder for me to see children immersed in play.

I was lucky enough to work with Reception or Foundation classes in my second year of teaching, when I was planning and teaching ICT lessons across the full primary range – and when some of these youngsters used to think I lived in the computer suite. (Ha! “computer suite” – showing my age!) I was also providing cover for staff and so might be in Year 6 in the morning and then doing phonics sessions with Foundation in the afternoon.

A good few years later I took up a new role as Deputy Principal in a school and taught for a while in the Foundation 2 class. I still recall the experiences and smiles I had during those times with great fondness. And I got to witness that immersive play that is so wonderful.

Nowadays I see George, my 8 year old son, immersed in his play, either with his friends or simply on his own. It is a wonder to behold and something that we slowly see less of. The reason I think that I find it so interesting is that it flies in the face of what adult life is so typically about, immersive play doesn’t happen within those rules and challenges the typical constraints adults might see or hold.

The Edges

Yesterday I wrote about the importance of constraint, and healthy constraint at that, in our design of learning. I described how some resources create an artificial line that children don’t go over or how time might restrict what we do. When children are truly immersed in play the edges of their play seem invisible.

It is not simply the timeless nature of immersive play but also the way that physical barriers, and even the rules of physics, become non-existent. They are changed, thwarted and ignored. Superpowers ON! Groups of toys suddenly are thrust together and the props of the play become varied and limitless – the play things even become augmented themselves changing in the mind of the young authors of this new reality.

Presenteeism

When you observe this powerful type of play, a total immersion takes hold. Children get caught up in their play, they lose track of time. They don’t worry about what has gone before or what is next – they don’t think about the to-do list or their worries. When children are safe and immersed in their play, they are wholly present. (There is lots to read about this type of Flow state and the positive impact it can have on learning or the creative process.)

Social

One other curious feature of immersive play is when play overlaps with others. A complete imaginary state bumps into another, children play together seamlessly co-constructing something that is completely imaginary. They negotiate and choose and build together under what seem to be a silent set of rules encoded deep inside them. The social aspect of immersive physical play just feeds the imaginations at work and you see worlds evolve and collapse, characters develop and disappear in quick succession.

All of these beautiful, natural instinctive behaviours might be summed up in this lovely quote:

Children have neither past nor future, they enjoy the present, which very few of us do.

– Jean de la Bruyere

Now of course immersive play is not simply the bastion of the young learner, but perhaps we have to try just that little bit harder to build and collapse those worlds as easily.

What do you see as the signals of immersive play? When do older students and adults get the opportunity for such wholly present experiences?

Finding the edges of your page

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Not to be confused with restraint which is much more about self-control, constraint is about finding the edges of the page before you begin, it is about knowing what limits you have in terms of resources. It is about must haves and must nots. And to be honest not something I previously worried too much about, but now I see constraint in lots of work that I do and inevitably seek them out if they are not so explicit.

In many ways the 28 Days of Writing project is built around the concept of healthy constraint, about creating an edge where often there isn’t one. A rule to stick to and enjoy the creative challenge. 28 days of writing with a time constraint on how long you can spend every day.

Twitter was such an interesting medium to write through. The constraint of writing within a specific character limit is just second nature now – I always try not to abbreviate or shorten words unnecessarily too. Back when the education community didn’t know it’s tweet from it’s blog it was a fascinating challenge to share your thoughts with such brevity. In many ways this is the most enduring feature of the Twitter platform and certainly something I still enjoy.

Another time when I observed the impact of constraint in a rather unexpected place was a Year 3 classroom in London. The class were all set to build some versions or prototypes of their new house/dwelling ideas they had been intricately designing on paper. Detailed diagrams and rough drafts overlapped on the tables as the class clamoured to discover what was next for their ideas. LEGO makes a similar introduction when used in most classroom, eyes light up and ideas roll over in the mind. However something unexpected happened once construction of the next prototypes commenced. Constraint.

Boys and girls grabbed LEGO baseboards to build on and suddenly fell into a steady rhythm of stacking bricks around the edges, the cuboid house once again asserted it’s dominance. It was a fascinating thing to reflect upon for Meshendia (the classteacher) and I once all was said and done. The LEGO had in fact imposed its own constraint to the process and those baseboards even more so. What were dreamy, intricate designs on paper soon became cookie-cutter boxes in LEGO.

I think this happens a great deal once we are up to our armpits in the making process, the standard classroom doesn’t quite cater for the resources our ideas truly need. Why would they? After all if we are not given enough signals of the constraints in the early stages of a process when we are encouraging new ideas, those ideas will grow and expand without an edge to them.

I was with a school in Perth last week and the very same thinking task for one group of 3 teachers produced completely different results compared with another. The reason. Simply the size of the paper they chose to work on. One group had a large sheet of flipchart paper and their ideas were more numerous, sprawling and often tangential. The other had an A4 piece of paper, the group’s ideas were fewer, focused, more potent. Same task, just a different piece of paper. For one the edges were tighter, closer and more constrained – for the other much more open and freer. The constraint, or lack of, impacted on the type of thinking the group achieved.

A Prototyping Disposition

I bump into different views of what “prototyping” is, should be or could be quite regularly. It is interesting to try and help people, especially educators, change the way they perceive a word and begin to use it, even understand it, in new ways. After all language is such a decisive factor in our willingness to understand and so to change.

Although not a designer by trade I know that prototyping is about making versions of something, creating various attempts and that these attempts have a trajectory. A direction they are heading towards. An outcome their production is seeking. I get that this is an iterative approach, resting on the knowledge that we will gradually get better through advice and comment from others.

Ultimately though a prototype’s success lies in the mindset or disposition that they are created with. Or to say it more clearly, when we make stuff if we are iterative in our approach we are more likely to succeed. But there is a lot going on if we begin to consider prototyping as not just about making something, but a disposition too.

It is not just about junk modelling or computer aided design or 3D printing or physical building – a disposition towards prototyping means we:

  • Are committed to the expertise and ideas we might gain from others and don’t just simply rely on our own perspective.
  • Believe in the value of feedback and how critique can move our ideas forward.
  • Engineer as many opportunities for feedback as we can, as early as we can.
  • Are willing to share what we create when it is extremely, painfully incomplete.

Learning, and often learning within a school, can be such a creative process, I know that teaching is one of the most creative of professions I know. The prototyping disposition is a stance we need to consider for our learners and for ourselves.

All too often our design of the creative tasks we ask our students to embark upon do not signpost these perspectives. Constraint is rare and we open the doors for our students to emotionally commit to a project, a creation, whether prose or painting it is much the same.

Simply stating the traits of an iterative or prototyping approach is far from enough – we need to consider how we can design them into scaffolded or modelled tasks. For example increasing the constraint of resourcing and time when we get started.

“You have 5 minutes to write the first 2 sentences and yes you can only use a post-it note. Ready go!”

What comes next is easy to understand – feedback and feedforward. Next steps and critique. So much has been written about the high impact on student outcomes of high quality feedback that I do not have to restate it. What perhaps does need pointing out is how woven it is into the fabric of an iterative creative process. So let us look again at how we might model this approach in all of our work and consider ways to engineer multiple versions followed up with as many feedback opportunities.

Prototyping is not just about physical modelling, it is an iterative mindset towards anything that we, or our students, create.