The other day I overheard two of our students chatting outside as they waited for their lessons to begin. The conversation was about Minecraft, a game that has captivated millions of kids around the globe and mystified an equal number of parents.

Jack had brought with him a manual to Minecraft, something Frankie was eager to see as it might finally explain why Jack was consistently able to destroy his carefully crafted Minecraft creations. I quickly realised that this was not a brief chat about the latest computer game, this was serious discussion between two ‘kings’ about the relative strengths of their kingdoms and the strategies they would employ to improve them. In other words, it was an eerily adult conversation.

It started Mark and I thinking about the Minecraft phenomenon. If you are a parent and the title of this piece annoys you, makes you groan or, worse, fills you with the dread of the gaming illiterate, you are not alone. For every child addicted to mining, creating and bashing their way through a make-believe world, there is at least one parent struggling to understand the attraction of a game that visually at least appears to be stuck back in the 80’s.

Which raises a simple question: what is it about this game, which to adult eyes appears clunky and unrefined, not to mention bewilderingly confusing, that attracts the relentless attentions of millions of kids around the world?

To understand this perhaps we need to consider not how it appears, but what it is. To use references that ‘older’ generations can connect with, Minecraft is Dungeons and Dragons, Snakes and Ladders, Monopoly, Meccano, Lego, an adventure playground, a trip to the beach with a bucket and spade, the first time you watched Star Wars or read Lord of the Rings, dress up games as a child when you were a King or Queen, a knight in shining armour or the first man on the moon. In other words, it is imagination unleashed, a limitless landscape of opportunities with the tools to quite literally create anything that pops in to a young and fertile mind.

Looked at from that perspective, how could a child not be captivated by the possibilities? When everything else in their lives is limited by parental authority, teachers rules, age and height restrictions, difficulty or boredom, or simply unattainable, and as an alternative they are offered sovereign rights to their own kingdom, it’s not really difficult to understand the attraction, is it?

Now, before you write Minecraft off as ‘simply a game’, you may be interested to know that a school in Stockholm has added it as part of their standard curriculum for 13 year olds, as it helps them learn about planning. And there are many other educators and schools around the globe who now appreciate its benefits and are including it in their planning.

Spend ten minutes with an avid user, as I have, and really pay attention instead of umming and saying “yes, interesting” before turning your attention back to the news, and you will quickly end up with a tick list of the skills they will need as adults. Strategy, planning, patience, numeracy, literacy, short and long term memory, the ability to prioritise, negotiate and organise, multi-tasking (more men should play this game!), keyboard skills, IT skills, visualising; the list goes on and on.

And now, amazingly, Minecraft has added social awareness to the list. Another of our students, Jaymie (yes, girls play Minecraft too!), is part of a peer group that creates and sells papercraft Minecraft characters at school and donates the proceeds to charity. Thanks Jaymie for the pink character your drew for us yesterday too!

I am sure the arguments, pro and con, will continue to swirl around the virtual land, but I am staggered at the number of ‘adults’ who argue against Minecraft and dismiss it as simply a ‘computer game’ without properly researching it. I challenge them to spend ten minutes playing it and not come away bewildered and confused and at the same time impressed by the sheer skill and determination demonstrated by the eager young minds that dance around this ‘second home’. 

What to older eyes appears to be a game of limited appeal, with poor graphics and clunky controls, is arguably not a game at all but instead a proving ground for the next generation of adults-to-be. Think back; most of the classic ‘instructional’ toys from the past, including Meccano and Lego, were solitary in nature, whereas Minecraft is online, global and highly interactive. They may not realise it, but they are already the ‘peacekeepers’, ‘UN’ and ‘global corporates’ of the future. Adults shouldn’t be concerned about Minecraft because it is a ‘video game’, but instead because it is training them to be more adaptive, inventive, articulate and adventurous than we are!

For those waiting with baited breath for our next blog instalment, apologies, we have both been burning the candle at both ends running the existing business, managing the purchase of our new centre in Valley View and recruiting staff for both! It would be an understatement to say that it has been a busy time! End of term break? What end of term break?

Which brings me to my ticklish topic for the week: how much control should parents really allow their kids over whether they attend tutoring or not? It is a difficult area for parents, because of course tutoring is not school, and therefore not mandatory, so as a parent can you really insist that your child attends tutoring if they make it clear that they don’t want to?

It is a question faced by many parents after an end of term break, and even more so after the summer holidays. Let’s face facts; we are talking about kids, whether they are in primary or secondary school, and after a week or more of video games, sleeping in late and hanging around with friends, any form of mental exercise will sound less than appealing, especially if it is in addition to school. In fact, Mark and I are more surprised by the students who are eager to return to tutoring after the holidays than those who drag their feet.

This is where the ‘tough love’ element comes in I’m afraid. Unless something miraculous has happened during the break, and your child has suddenly gained maths or English knowledge they did not possess at the end of the previous term, those skill gaps will still remain and tutoring will still be required. As someone who has completed their schooling and knows the value knowledge has at University, other forms of further education and in the workplace, you have a responsibility to use that perspective to advise your child.

If your child says ‘I don’t want to go anymore’, you have to recognise that this is a natural reaction to losing the freedom of the holidays, and be wise enough and tough enough to urge them on. Make no mistake, this is a huge responsibility; if they are remedial and there are significant skill gaps, your response to their attempt at giving up will impact on the rest of their schooling and potentially their working life.

If you are unsure how to handle the conversation, or need support, ask the tutor. As noted, this is not an uncommon post-holiday reaction, and any experienced tutor will have faced this challenge many times before. When the stakes are this high, a tough conversation is a small price to pay.

I hasten to add by the way that it is extremely rare for the negativity to last even to the end of the first session, at least in our centres; students soon relax back in to familiar surroundings and get on with their work. So please relax, kids are remarkably resilient, it is the parents who agonise! Any doubts your child has now will be more than compensated for when they can read at the level of their peers, or achieve their first ‘B’ or ‘A’ in maths. These are the things that matter, the things that have long term value.

Have a great week!

This week I have been getting closer to my inner self. No, I have not entered a hippy commune, but I have joined hundreds of other like-minded people at the annual Happiness Conference in Melbourne. Not as off-the-wall as it perhaps sounds, the conference brings together speakers from around the globe to share their surprisingly practical tips for maintaining our equilibriums.

But happiness is not in fact my theme for this week. What struck me again throughout this week, apart from the resonating themes of health, happiness and well-being that formed the core of most of the presentations, is the immense power of language to convey meaning.

Imagine nearly 2,000 people captivated by the words of one man. Granted, this man was His Holiness the Dalai Lama, and warrants our attention almost by default, but where would he be without his carefully chosen words? They are his stock and trade, the means by which he engages with the world, shares the plight of his people and passes on his wisdom (his laugh does help though, it is mesmerising and will absolutely make you smile every time).

Although perhaps the most significant orator of the week, he was by no means the only one, as presenter after presenter breathed life in to their ideas through the power of language. What an amazing thing it is, this ability, unique amongst all living things on this planet, to share thoughts and ideas by linking different sounds together.

But more than that, we can also convert these sounds in to symbols, again linking them together in patterns that mean something to others. Inspired by a number of speakers, I purchased their books. You would expect that removing voice and expression from the content would somehow lessen the impact, but in fact these qualities are somehow replaced by other elements, not least the ability of the written word to inspire imagination. When reading silently, the words themselves somehow become only one part of the story, the rest of which is supplied by our minds; the characters, landscapes, even the weather, somehow taking their cue from the words but becoming so much more.

This is why, in my role as a tutor to the speakers and writers of the next generation, I encourage them to think beyond the simple structure of the words and instead consider how they come to life when presented in a certain way. Texting, blogs, computer games, and all other manner of minimised communication, add nothing to the expression that language is capable of. Please don’t misunderstand me, they have their place, as effective tools for the quick transmission of fact, but they do not take full advantage of the written words ability to inspire, persuade and engage.

I recently watched a news story about a technology-rich school in Singapore that has replaced writing skills with a focus on technology, the theory being that the latter will have more value in five years’ time as the students enter the workforce. Perhaps, but in the absence of persuasive writing skills, how will the leaders of the future inspire their followers? How will the writers of the future create those worlds of the imagination in our heads?
 
There must still be a place in education for our languages to grow and develop, as they have for thousands of years, since long before Shakespeare, and ever since. Opposable thumbs are certainly an obvious physical characteristic of humanity, but I would argue that our ability to think beyond our present state, to use words to create ideas and stories that resonate far beyond the symbols on the page, is an equally defining characteristic of our humanity.

Hmmm, a slightly heavier tone this week. You can probably tell that language is a passion of mine, one that I am not willing to sacrifice to the efficiency of technology, and one that I believe is fundamentally important for your children. So please, encourage them to read, discuss with them what they read, help them to understand how important those little symbols on the page are and how necessary it is for them to be able to understand and use them. Till next time, happy reading!