I have fond memories of playing the Oregon Trail in grade school.
It was one of those games that, when our instructor really didn’t feel up to teaching, he/she could tell us to boot up our old Apple II’s and go on a virtual adventure across America. My friends and I would name ourselves after the various characters, laughing and jeering at one another across the classroom when one of us died from a snake bite or dysentery, the later of which no one even understood. It just sounded gross. The game always held a special place in my heart, and I was quick to download the various remakes (particularly Gameloft’s excellent iPhone version) for nostalgia sake. However, I was never able to bring the game into my classroom.
Inside, Crosley rants about Oregon Trail in a piece entitled Bring Your Machete to Work Day. Using Oregon Trail as a framing device for describing herself and her life as an angst ridden I-want-to-kill-my-Algebra-teacher student, the essay is the perfect accompaniment to my Intro to Composition courses at Peirce College; specifically, when I start teaching narrative and classification writing.
Before diving into the lesson and reading Crosley’s essay, I have my students play the original, Apple II Oregon Trail on their computers in class. For a full half hour, sometimes longer if they’re having a hard time finishing. Usually they’ll name the characters after friends and family, but in some cases, those who have played the game before, name them after enemies. Teachers they’ve hated, sports figures they loathe, or people who have wronged them recently. When it’s time to ford the river, they laugh and watch their wagon perish beneath the waves.
Most students are surprised when they get to Crosley’s essay, and discover how much they have in common with the writer. How they too have used the game to describe themselves.
Think outside the box. Otherwise, your ass is going to be fording the flooding river, dying of dysentery, or being neglected when you get a snake bite.
It’s this sort of funny, entertaining in-class activity more professors should utilize. Get rid of the Powerpoint, stop playing on the Whiteboard, and get creative. Think outside the box. Otherwise, your ass is going to be fording the flooding river, dying of dysentery, or being neglected when you get a snake bite.
Eric Smithis a young part-time professor living in Philadelphia, working full-time in publishing. He enjoys coming up with wacky lesson plans, challenging the system, and beating his students in Halo. His debut novel, Textual Healing, is out now, and you can find him ranting on his personal blog and his hyperlocal geek site, Geekadelphia. Follow him @ericsmithrocks.
You’ve Died of Dysentery: College & the Oregon Trail
By Eric Smith · February 12th, 2011 · School · Comments
12 February
I have fond memories of playing the Oregon Trail in grade school.
It was one of those games that, when our instructor really didn’t feel up to teaching, he/she could tell us to boot up our old Apple II’s and go on a virtual adventure across America. My friends and I would name ourselves after the various characters, laughing and jeering at one another across the
classroom when one of us died from a snake bite or dysentery, the later of which no one even understood. It just sounded gross. The game always held a special place in my heart, and I was quick to download the various remakes (particularly Gameloft’s excellent iPhone version) for nostalgia sake. However, I was never able to bring the game into my classroom.
Until I picked up I Was Told There’d Be Cake, a hilarious collection of personal essays by Sloane Crosley.
Inside, Crosley rants about Oregon Trail in a piece entitled Bring Your Machete to Work Day. Using Oregon Trail as a framing device for describing herself and her life as an angst ridden I-want-to-kill-my-Algebra-teacher student, the essay is the perfect accompaniment to my Intro to Composition courses at Peirce College; specifically, when I start teaching narrative and classification writing.
Before diving into the lesson and reading Crosley’s essay, I have my students play the original, Apple II Oregon Trail on their computers in class. For a full half hour, sometimes longer if they’re having a hard time finishing. Usually they’ll name the characters after friends and family, but in some cases, those who have played the game before, name them after enemies. Teachers they’ve hated, sports figures they loathe, or people who have wronged them recently. When it’s time to ford the river, they laugh and watch their wagon perish beneath the waves.
Most students are surprised when they get to Crosley’s essay, and discover how much they have in common with the writer. How they too have used the game to describe themselves.
It’s this sort of funny, entertaining in-class activity more professors should utilize. Get rid of the Powerpoint, stop playing on the Whiteboard, and get creative. Think outside the box. Otherwise, your ass is going to be fording the flooding river, dying of dysentery, or being neglected when you get a snake bite.
Eric Smith is a young part-time professor living in Philadelphia, working full-time in publishing. He enjoys coming up with wacky lesson plans, challenging the system, and beating his students in Halo. His debut novel, Textual Healing, is out now, and you can find him ranting on his personal blog and his hyperlocal geek site, Geekadelphia. Follow him @ericsmithrocks.