Maybe it was a birthday. Maybe it was Christmas. Maybe my parents had simply noticed I couldn’t stop talking about a band and surprised me one afternoon. Whatever the occasion, I remember opening the case, reading through the booklet, looking at the artwork, and feeling like I actually owned something. It was mine. I could play it whenever I wanted. I could lend it to a friend, and years later I could pull it off the shelf and listen to it all over again. There was something comforting about knowing that no one could take it away from me.

Subscribe now

I even remember using cassette tapes before that. Rewinding them to find my favorite song or fast forwarding to the next track wasn’t exactly convenient, but that was just part of the experience. The important thing was that the music belonged to me. I had it in my hands.

Then the digital age arrived.

Almost overnight, we started ripping our CDs to our computers. We filled our hard drives with MP3s and carried our music on iPods, Zunes, and eventually our phones. Looking back, that transition was surprisingly easy because it didn’t really change the idea of ownership. The digital file wasn’t replacing what we had bought. It was simply another way to enjoy something we already owned.

I think that’s why my generation embraced digital so quickly. I was born in the 1980s, so I watched physical media slowly evolve into digital media. At no point did it feel like we were giving anything up. If anything, it felt like we were gaining convenience while keeping everything else exactly the same.

Video games, however, have always played by different rules.

Every new Nintendo console introduced a different way of playing our games. We went from NES cartridges to Super Nintendo cartridges, then to Nintendo 64 cartridges, then to GameCube discs, Wii discs, Wii U discs, and finally back to cartridges with the Switch. Every generation required new hardware, and that was simply part of being a gamer. If you wanted to play the newest games, you accepted that you would eventually need a new console.

Music wasn’t like that. A CD remained a CD for decades. You could play it in your stereo, your computer, your car, or your portable CD player. Movies evolved from VHS to DVD and eventually to Blu-ray because each new format offered a noticeable improvement in quality, but ownership never really changed. You still walked into a store, bought a movie, brought it home, and placed it on your shelf.

Somewhere along the way, though, something much bigger changed.

Digital stopped being just another format. It became a different kind of transaction.

Today I can purchase a movie digitally. I can purchase a video game digitally. I click a button that says “Buy,” pay full price, and the item appears in my library. From the consumer’s perspective, everything about that experience feels like ownership.

Legally, though, it usually isn’t.

Most of the time, what we’re actually purchasing is a license. A company grants us access to that movie or game under certain conditions. If licensing agreements expire, a service shuts down, or the company changes its policies, that access can disappear. We’ve already seen it happen with movies, television shows, and even video games.

That realization has taken me a while to process because I actually like digital media.

When I buy a movie, I almost always look for a Blu-ray that includes a Movies Anywhere digital copy. I love having the convenience of watching a movie without getting up to find the disc. At the same time, I also like knowing that the disc is sitting on my shelf if I ever need it. For me, that’s the ideal balance. The physical copy provides security, while the digital copy provides convenience.

What worries me is that we’re slowly moving toward a future where the physical copy may not exist at all.

That’s when I started asking myself a question that I hadn’t really considered before.

If I’m only buying a license, why am I paying ownership prices?

That question completely changed the way I think about subscription services like Xbox Game Pass.

For years, I understood why people dismissed the idea. The common response was always, “I want to own my games.” I felt the same way. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that maybe we need to reconsider what ownership actually means in the digital age.

Game Pass never pretends that you’re buying anything. You pay a monthly fee, you get access to a large library of games, and when you stop paying, you lose access. It’s a straightforward agreement. Everyone understands the relationship from the beginning.

Oddly enough, that’s a very honest business model.

What feels much harder to justify is paying seventy or eighty dollars for a digital game while receiving a license that can ultimately depend on the platform continuing to exist and honor that agreement. If two products are legally very similar, why does one cost the equivalent of permanent ownership while the other openly acknowledges that it’s simply providing temporary access?

I’m not suggesting that subscriptions are the answer to everything, nor am I arguing that physical media should never disappear. Technology changes, and that’s perfectly normal. What concerns me is that consumer expectations haven’t kept pace with the legal reality. Many of us still use the word “buy” the same way we did twenty or thirty years ago, even though the meaning of that word has quietly changed.

Perhaps that’s where the real conversation should begin. Instead of arguing over whether physical media is better than digital media, maybe we should be asking what ownership is supposed to mean in a digital world. If companies are selling licenses, they should be clear about that. If consumers are paying full price, perhaps they deserve stronger protections. At the very least, the price should honestly reflect the rights that are being purchased.

I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t pretend that this is an easy problem to solve. I just know that, somewhere between my first cassette tape and the digital libraries we all carry around today, ownership quietly became something different. Most of us accepted that change without really noticing it. Now that we’re starting to notice, I think it’s worth asking whether the system we have today is really the one we want for the future.

-Prof. Rock

Leave a comment

Subscribe now

Different websites handle reviews in different ways. Some use a 10-point scale. Some use percentages. Some use stars. Some avoid scores altogether and focus only on the written review. A site like IGN may give a game a number out of 10. GameSpot also uses a 10-point scale. PC Gamer has traditionally used a 100-point percentage system. Other outlets lean more on recommendations, badges, or written impressions.

Then you have sites like Metacritic and OpenCritic, which exist partly because all of those different reviews need to be gathered, compared, and understood in one place. They help readers see a bigger picture by collecting scores and opinions from many outlets.

That can be useful.

But it also shows the problem.

A game can get a 5/10 from one reviewer, an 8/10 from another, and a much higher average somewhere else. Sometimes both reviews make valid points, but readers are left wondering:

What exactly was being evaluated?

Was the score based mostly on gameplay? Performance? Story? Value? Personal taste? Expectations for the genre?

That got me thinking as an educator.

In the classroom, rubrics help make grading clearer. They do not remove judgment, but they help explain the judgment. They give students a better idea of what was being evaluated and why a certain score was given.

So I started wondering:

Could something like that work for video game reviews?

That is where Rock’s Game Review Rubric comes in.

The idea is simple:

Rate. Reflect. Recommend.

A reviewer rates the game using clear categories, reflects on why those scores were earned, and then gives readers a final recommendation they can actually understand.

I am not claiming that video game review rubrics are a brand-new idea. Reviewers, bloggers, and websites have created their own scoring systems for years. Some are very detailed. Some are very personal. Some are built around a specific website’s style.

What I wanted to create was something simple and general enough that almost anyone could pick it up and use it.

Not a perfect system. Not the only system.

Just a clear framework.

The goal is not to tell reviewers what they have to think. Reviews are always going to include personal opinion, and that is a good thing. The goal is to help make that opinion easier to explain.

If someone gives a game a low score, readers should be able to see why. If someone gives a game a high score, readers should also understand what parts of the experience earned that praise.

So here is Version 1.0 of Rock’s Game Review Rubric.

Purpose

Rock’s Game Review Rubric is a simple framework for clearer video game reviews.

It is designed to help reviewers explain how they reached their final verdict without turning the review process into homework.

This rubric does not replace personal opinion. Instead, it helps make that opinion clearer by showing which parts of the game worked well, which parts struggled, and how those observations shaped the final recommendation.

The goal is not to force every game into the same mold. A game should be evaluated based on how well it succeeds at what it is trying to be.

Reviewer Context

Before using the rubric, the reviewer should provide some basic context so readers understand the perspective behind the review.

You can include:

• Game title

• Platform reviewed

• Version reviewed

• Hours played

• Completed? Yes, no, or not applicable

• Review copy or personal purchase?

• Genre familiarity: new, casual, experienced, or fan

• Intended audience considered

This matters because two people may review the same game from very different perspectives. A longtime fan of a genre may notice things a newcomer would miss. Someone reviewing on Switch may have a different experience than someone reviewing on PC. Someone who finished the game may see the experience differently from someone who only played the opening hours.

Context does not make a review automatically right or wrong, but it helps readers understand where the reviewer is coming from.

Scoring Scale

Each category is scored from 1 to 4.

4 - Excellent

Strong, polished, and successful in this area. Any issues are minor.

3 - Good

Solid and effective, with some noticeable but manageable weaknesses.

2 - Limited

Some good ideas or strengths, but clear problems affect the experience.

1 - Weak

Serious issues regularly hurt this part of the game.

The total possible score is 20 points.

Final Verdict

After scoring the five categories, the total score leads to a final verdict.

18-20: Essential

A standout game that strongly succeeds at what it is trying to do.

15-17: Strongly Recommended

A very good game with clear strengths and only manageable issues.

12-14: Recommended With Caveats

A worthwhile game, but one with issues or limitations readers should understand first.

9-11: For Specific Audiences

Best suited for players who already enjoy the genre, style, series, or concept.

5-8: Not Recommended

The game has too many issues to recommend broadly.

Category 1: Gameplay & Design

Gameplay & Design considers how the game feels to play and how well its systems support the experience.

This may include controls, mechanics, progression, balance, level design, mission structure, challenge, pacing, and the overall gameplay loop.

4 - Excellent

The game feels strong, polished, and intentional. Controls, mechanics, progression, challenge, and overall design work together in a way that consistently supports the experience. Any issues are minor.

3 - Good

The gameplay is solid and enjoyable. Most mechanics work well, and the design mostly supports the game’s goals. There may be some weak spots, repetition, imbalance, or awkward moments, but they do not seriously hurt the experience.

2 - Limited

The game has some good ideas, but the gameplay is inconsistent, repetitive, clunky, confusing, or uneven. The design may work for some players, but noticeable problems get in the way.

1 - Weak

The gameplay regularly works against the experience. Controls, mechanics, progression, balance, or level design make the game frustrating, dull, broken, or hard to recommend.

Questions to consider:

• Does the game feel good to play?

• Are the core actions interesting, clear, and reliable?

• Does the game grow or develop in a satisfying way?

• Is the challenge fair for the intended audience?

• Do levels, missions, objectives, or systems support the experience?

• Does the gameplay loop stay enjoyable over time?

  ---

Category 2: Technical Performance & Polish

Technical Performance & Polish considers how well the game functions as a released product.

This may include framerate, crashes, bugs, loading times, visual or audio glitches, online stability, save reliability, and general polish.

4 - Excellent

The game runs smoothly and feels polished. Bugs, crashes, slowdown, or technical issues are rare and do not meaningfully affect the experience.

3 - Good

The game is mostly stable and playable. Some technical issues may appear, but they are not frequent or serious enough to significantly damage the experience.

2 - Limited

Technical problems are noticeable and sometimes disruptive. Bugs, performance drops, long loading, crashes, or other issues may interfere with enjoyment.

1 - Weak

Technical problems regularly harm the experience. The game may feel unfinished, unstable, poorly optimized, or unreliable.

Questions to consider:

• Does the game crash, freeze, or fail to work properly?

• Does the game run at an acceptable level for its platform and style?

• Are glitches minor, distracting, or game-breaking?

• Do loading times respect the player’s time?

• If relevant, are online features stable and reliable?

• Does the game feel finished and ready for players?

  ---

Category 3: Presentation & Communication

Presentation & Communication considers how effectively the game expresses itself to the player.

This may include visual design, art direction, animation, music, sound, voice acting, writing clarity, menus, tutorials, interface design, and how well the game communicates what the player needs to know.

4 - Excellent

The game presents itself with clarity, confidence, and style. Visuals, audio, interface, and communication strongly support the experience and help the game feel cohesive.

3 - Good

The presentation is effective overall. Visuals, audio, menus, and communication mostly work well, though some parts may be plain, uneven, or less polished.

2 - Limited

The presentation has strengths, but it is inconsistent or sometimes unclear. Visuals, audio, interface, tutorials, or communication may distract from the experience.

1 - Weak

The game struggles to communicate or present itself effectively. Poor visuals, audio, menus, writing clarity, or feedback regularly make the experience harder to enjoy or understand.

Questions to consider:

• Does the game’s look support its identity and goals?

• Do music, sound effects, and voice work strengthen the experience?

• Are menus, HUD elements, and controls easy to understand?

• Does the game clearly show the result of player actions?

• Does the game teach players what they need to know?

• Does the game communicate objectives, systems, and story effectively?

  ---

Category 4: Content, Value & Respect for Time

Content, Value & Respect for Time considers whether the game offers a satisfying amount and quality of content for its price, length, and purpose.

This does not mean every game must be long. A short game can score highly if its content feels meaningful, complete, and well-paced.

4 - Excellent

The game offers strong value for what it is. Its content feels meaningful, well-paced, and worth the player’s time. Length, replayability, price, and structure are well aligned.

3 - Good

The game offers fair value overall. Most content feels worthwhile, though there may be some repetition, filler, uneven pacing, or minor concerns about price or length.

2 - Limited

The game has worthwhile content, but value is uneven. It may feel too short, too padded, too repetitive, overpriced, or lacking in meaningful reasons to continue.

1 - Weak

The game does not respect the player’s time or money. Content may feel thin, repetitive, padded, incomplete, or poorly matched to the asking price.

Questions to consider:

• Does the game offer enough worthwhile things to do?

• Does the game avoid unnecessary padding or empty repetition?

• Does the experience feel fair for the cost?

• If relevant, are there meaningful reasons to return?

• Does the game feel complete for what it promises?

• Does the game use the player’s time well?

  ---

Category 5: Audience Fit & Purpose

Audience Fit & Purpose considers how well the game serves the players it appears to be made for.

This category helps prevent a game from being punished for not being something it never intended to be.

A cozy game does not need to be an action game.

A retro-style game does not need to look like a modern blockbuster.

A visual novel does not need complex combat to succeed.

The question is not, “Did this game become every kind of game at once?”

The better question is:

“How well does this game succeed at what it is trying to be?”

4 - Excellent

The game clearly understands its purpose and audience. Its design choices strongly support the kind of experience it is trying to create.

3 - Good

The game mostly succeeds for its intended audience. Some choices may limit its appeal or hold it back, but the overall experience fits its purpose well.

2 - Limited

The game has a recognizable audience or purpose, but it does not fully serve that audience well. Players interested in the concept may still find the execution uneven.

1 - Weak

The game struggles to satisfy even the audience most likely to enjoy it. Its goals may be unclear, poorly executed, or mismatched with the final experience.

Questions to consider:

• Who is this game for?

• Does it understand the expectations of its genre or style?

• What kind of experience is the game trying to create?

• Does the final game match that purpose?

• Can the intended audience reasonably enjoy what is offered?

• Does the game have a clear sense of what it wants to be?

  ---

Scorecard Template

Here is the simple version a reviewer can use at the end of a review:

Gameplay & Design: ___ / 4

Technical Performance & Polish: ___ / 4

Presentation & Communication: ___ / 4

Content, Value & Respect for Time: ___ / 4

Audience Fit & Purpose: ___ / 4

Total Score: ___ / 20

Final Verdict: __________

Short Review Summary Template

A reviewer could end with something like this:

This game earned a ___/20 using Rock’s Game Review Rubric. Its strongest areas were ___, while its biggest concerns were ___. Overall, it is ___.

Printable Version

I am also making a PDF version of Rock’s Game Review Rubric available.

Rock Game Review Rubric

116KB ∙ PDF file

Download

Download

The idea is to make it easy to download, print, and use like a simple classroom-style rubric. You can mark the score quickly, check the category descriptions, and use it as a guide while writing or preparing a review.

Think of it like the kind of rubric a teacher might hand out in class, except this one is for reviewing video games.

Final Thoughts

This is Version 1.0, so I see it as a starting point.

My hope is that Rock’s Game Review Rubric can help make game reviews a little clearer. Not less personal. Not less opinionated. Just more transparent.

A reviewer may still love a game that someone else does not enjoy. That is normal. But with a rubric, readers can better understand what the reviewer valued, where the game succeeded, and where it struggled.

Feel free to use it, tweak it, challenge it, or suggest changes. If you write reviews, make videos, post on Substack, or just enjoy thinking deeply about games, I would love to hear what you would add, remove, or adjust.

If you decide to use it, feel free to link back to this article so more people can check it out and even use it themselves. As you saw, I included a logo for the rubric, and here’s one to use if you review a game with it.

Maybe together we can build a review framework that makes game criticism a little easier to understand.

Rate. Reflect. Recommend.

• Prof. Rock

Leave a comment

I know that sounds like a strange question to ask in 2026. Nintendo already has a home console. The Switch 2 connects to your television, plays games on the big screen, and can sit right beside a PlayStation or Xbox. So what exactly am I talking about?

Subscribe

To explain that, I have to go back to a podcast that I’ve been listening to for quite a while.

One of my favorite gaming podcasts is the Nontendo Podcast. The show originally started with two well-known YouTubers, Wood Hawker from BeatEmUps and Bob Wulff from Wulff Den. Both creators spent a lot of time talking about Nintendo, so eventually they decided to launch a podcast focused entirely on Nintendo gaming. The name itself is a fun little play on words, and the show quickly became one of my regular listens.

Over its lifespan, the podcast evolved. Bob eventually stepped away to focus on his own projects, but Wood kept the show alive and continued bringing in guests and new voices. More recently, the podcast went through another refresh, bringing in KnightSky, and Sully as regular co-hosts. The current version of the Nontendo Podcast has been a lot of fun, and if you’ve never listened to it before, I highly recommend checking it out.

Recently, I was listening to the latest episode titled Video Games Will NEVER be the Same... During the Super Chat portion of the show, a listener named Vegemiteyfine brought up an interesting question about whether Nintendo would ever return to making a traditional home console, the kind of system that simply sits beneath your television and never leaves the house.

The hosts discussed the idea, but my brain immediately wandered somewhere else.

What if Nintendo didn’t need to make a new home console?

What if they simply took the Switch 2 and stripped it down?

No screen.

No internal speakers.

No battery.

No Joy-Cons in the box.

Just a small console that sits beneath your television and plays Switch games.

As I kept thinking about the idea, I decided to reach out to Vegemiteyfine and ask what they meant by their original comment. Their response ended up being the most interesting part of the entire discussion.

Vegemiteyfine explained that when playing games like Breath of the Wild, most of their playtime happened in docked mode. They estimated that roughly 70% of their time was spent playing on the television and only about 30% in handheld mode. They even mentioned replaying certain sections on the TV because they preferred the larger screen and the Pro Controller experience.

That immediately clicked with me.

Back when I played my original Switch, I did something very similar. The handheld screen wasn’t bad, but I almost always preferred playing on the television. If I was going to spend hours exploring a game world, I wanted to enjoy it on the biggest screen available. The Switch 2 has changed that for me. The larger display makes handheld gaming much more enjoyable, and I find myself using both modes much more often than I did before.

Still, Vegemiteyfine’s comment stuck with me because it highlighted something I hadn’t really considered. There are probably a lot of people who simply prefer docked gaming. Not because handheld gaming is bad. Not because the Switch is flawed. It’s just their preference.

And if that’s the case, maybe there is room for a different kind of Switch.

I’m not talking about a smaller Switch Lite. In fact, I’m talking about the opposite. The Lite exists for people who just want portability. This idea is for people who don’t really care about portability at all. Imagine a small box that accepts cartridges, connects to your television, and plays the exact same games as a standard Switch 2. If you want to use Joy-Cons, you buy them separately. If you prefer a Pro Controller, that works too. The system simply stays connected to your TV all the time, ready to play whenever you are. In the following mock-up I even put some USB ports in the front so you can just plug and play some remotes and you're done!

As I continued thinking about the idea, I started to realize there might be more people interested in something like this than I originally expected. There are players like Vegemitefine who spend most of their gaming time docked and rarely use the portable features of the system. There are families that might appreciate a second Switch connected to another television without having to purchase another full hybrid console. There could also be PlayStation and Xbox players who have little interest in handheld gaming but would love a more affordable way to access Nintendo’s exclusive library.

Do I think Nintendo will actually make something like this? Probably not. The hybrid identity of the Switch has been one of the company’s greatest successes, and I don’t see Nintendo moving away from that formula anytime soon. Still, I find the idea fascinating.

I’m curious to hear your thoughts. Would a TV-only version of the Switch 2 appeal to you, or is portability too important to give up? Let me know in the comments.

And if you haven’t checked out the Nontendo Podcast, give it a listen. You never know what gaming discussion might spark your next big idea.

Prof. Rock

Leave a comment

Subscribe now

Back in April, this Substack reached 100 subscribers, and I’m not going to lie, that felt like a huge milestone for me. There’s something really special about realizing that over 100 people actually want to read the things you write. As of today, that number has grown to 139 subscribers, which honestly surprises me in the best possible way, especially because I haven’t posted much during the past week due to how busy things have been at work lately.

One thing I didn’t realize before reaching 100 subscribers is that Substack unlocks additional features once you hit that milestone. One of my favorites is audio narration.

Now readers can open an article, press play, and simply listen to it.

And honestly? I think that’s fantastic.

I’m sure a lot of people do this already. You wake up in the morning, get in the car, head to work, and instead of reading an article traditionally, you just listen to it during the drive. We all love reading, but sometimes life gets busy, and having the option to listen makes content so much more accessible.

So reaching that milestone felt meaningful to me, not just because of the number itself, but because it made the blog feel a little more alive.

But recently I found myself thinking:

What do I write next?

Then it hit me.

I started looking back at older posts I wrote when this Substack was brand new. Back then, I barely had any subscribers, so some of those articles never really got seen by many people. They just kind of... stayed there quietly in the background.

And that’s when I came up with an idea.

Welcome to The Backlog.

Now, despite the name, this isn’t specifically about video games. But if you’re a gamer, you already understand what a backlog is.

It’s that TV series you started but never finished.

That game sitting on your shelf waiting for you to finally continue it.

That movie you keep telling yourself you’ll watch “eventually.”

And here at Prof. Rock’s Learning Arcade, a backlog can also be an article.

A post that maybe got overlooked.

A piece written before people discovered the blog.

Something worth revisiting.

So from time to time, I’m going to highlight older articles based around a theme and give them another chance to be discovered.

Since we’re reaching the end of the semester, I thought it would be fitting to start with education-focused posts.

So below, you’ll find a few articles from the Learning Arcade backlog. Feel free to click through, explore them, and if you enjoy one of them, consider leaving a like or restacking it so someone else can discover it too.

And with that…

Welcome to the backlog.

Leave a comment

Subscribe now

You’ve probably seen how tools like Copilot or other AI assistants can now watch YouTube videos and podcasts for you. They summarize what’s said, highlight the main topics, and let you skip ahead to the parts you care about.

And honestly? That can be super helpful. Podcasts go long. Videos ramble. People are busy. I get why folks use it.

But I also see the downside.

As a teacher and a content creator, I worry about how this kind of summarizing affects the people behind the content — especially on platforms like YouTube, where watch time equals income. If an AI tells you what the video says before you even click play, creators could lose views, engagement, and ultimately, revenue.

And then there’s accessibility. Some creators might try to block AI by removing captions, since that’s often what AI tools read from. But if you eliminate captions, you’re locking out a huge group of viewers — especially those with hearing impairments or who need subtitles to follow along.

So we’re stuck between a rock and a hard place: creators want control, platforms want convenience, and viewers want speed.

One possible middle ground? AI could still provide timestamps and topic markers — like "They talk about X at the 5-minute mark" — without summarizing opinions or full arguments. That way, the tool still helps users find what they're looking for, but it doesn't take away the incentive to actually watch or listen.

It’s not about being anti-AI. Like I said, this is a good tool. But like any good tool, it can be misused if we're not careful. Creators deserve a say in how their work is consumed — and we shouldn't have to sacrifice accessibility to get there.

Something to think about.

• Prof. Rock

Leave a comment

Here’s a previous article I wrote about the evolution of classroom technology. Enjoy!

Subscribe now

From my point of view, a cozy game is a game that keeps you relaxed through mundane tasks. It asks you to do ordinary things, sometimes the kinds of things you might do in real life, but it wraps those things in a space that somehow feels comforting. Sometimes there is stress when you are trying to accomplish something, but usually the stress is low stakes. It is not about survival, combat, or constant pressure. It is about doing, building, tending, organizing, progressing.

For a long time, I had a strange relationship with games like that.

Thinking back, one of my earliest experiences with what we might now call a cozy game was Harvest Moon. And what strikes me as funny now is that even back then, the contradiction was already there. My grandfather had a little farm. I could have been helping feed chickens or learning something practical. Instead, there I was on the Super Nintendo building fences.

That feeling followed me into The Sims. I spent hours making sure my sim learned to cook, studied new skills, and built a productive little life, while in real life I probably should have been doing more studying myself. I was living the dream through my sims.

Then came Animal Crossing on the GameCube, and I had much the same reaction. Here I was doing in a game things I often didn’t feel like doing in real life.

To be honest, I used to look at cozy games and think maybe these were a waste of time. That was my view, at least until life itself changed the way I looked at them.

During the pandemic, I found myself wanting something calming, something steady. I remembered wanting to revisit Harvest Moon, but what I eventually found instead was Stardew Valley, and that game became something much more than I expected. It gave me a kind of escape during a strange and heavy time. All the chores had been done. We were stuck at home. I needed something to relax myself.

What surprised me was that a game about tending a farm, gathering resources, and reading dialogue could be so absorbing. It also reinforced something I’ve said before: I still think Stardew Valley is a remarkable game for kids, especially for reading and resource management.

Then came Animal Crossing: New Horizons on the Switch, and that added something new. My son and I shared an island. We built together. Because we were on the same island, he benefited from my progress, and that made the experience feel collaborative in a way I hadn’t expected.

I even started over again later on Nintendo Switch 2, ignoring everyone who says not to restart your island. I wanted to see what would happen. I got far enough to bring in K.K. Slider, reached that sense of completion, explored the updates, even tried the new additions. And then I stopped, not because the game was bad, but because I had simply gotten what I needed from it. In fact, I told myself I would not get pulled into another cozy game again.

Then came Pokopia.

And honestly, I only bought it because of fear of missing out. I saw everyone playing it. I bought a game key card partly because I wasn’t even sure I’d keep it. I thought maybe I’d sell it later if I didn’t like it.

Then I played it, and I was surprised.

What I expected to be another simple rebuilding game turned out to have something many cozy games struggle to balance well: a genuinely strong story. Yes, there is building. Yes, there are systems to learn. Yes, at times it can even feel a little daunting. But because the story keeps guiding you forward, the rebuilding has meaning.

That changed the way I looked at the genre. It made me realize a cozy game does not have to be just digital chores. It can be a world you return to because the tasks and the story support each other. One of my favorite moments was realizing I had done things out of order in the open world, only for a character to essentially tell me I had already completed what they were about to assign me. That flexibility made the game feel alive.

And maybe that is what I have been circling around this whole time. The cozy games that stay with me are not just relaxing games. They are games where ordinary actions are given purpose. That may be why Pokopia works so well for me. Because it has such a strong story, it feels like the kind of game you can keep going back and forth with and still enjoy. As someone with ADHD, I admit I have to be careful with games like this, because cozy games can be comforting, but they can also pull at hyperfocus in ways I have to manage. Still, I did not expect to say this, but I am more open to cozy games than I used to be, though I think I need them to give me more than chores. I need them to give me a reason to care, and sometimes that reason is simply a good story.

—- Prof. Rock

Leave a comment

Subscribe now

When something like that happens, people respond in different ways. Some shut down. Others try to stay busy. Some go outside, take walks, or try to reconnect with the world around them. And then there are those who stay inside, not quite ready to face everything all at once, but still needing something to help them process what they’re feeling.

That’s where my mind went.

I started thinking back to the pandemic. That time when everything stopped, when we were all suddenly confined to our homes, dealing with uncertainty, stress, and a lot of quiet moments with our thoughts. And I realized something about myself.

I was lucky.

Because right before everything shut down, in February of 2020, I had made a simple decision. I decided to go back to gaming after almost ten years away. I picked up a Nintendo Switch, thinking it would just be a way to relax, maybe revisit something I used to enjoy.

I had no idea how important that decision would become.

When the pandemic hit in March and we were all stuck inside, that small choice turned into something much bigger. Like everyone else, I felt that cabin fever. That restlessness. That sense of being stuck. But I also had something that helped me manage those feelings.

I had my Switch.

And more specifically, I had Pokémon Sword.

Now, I’ll be honest. It’s not the best Pokémon game. And as someone who grew up with the series, I’ve realized that the traditional RPG style doesn’t always fit into my adult life the way it used to. Time is different now.

But during the pandemic, I had time.

And that game gave me something I needed. At night, when sleep didn’t come easily, I would find myself exploring the Galar region, catching Pokémon, moving through the story, just being somewhere else for a while. It wasn’t about escaping reality completely. It was about managing it. About giving my mind space to breathe.

It helped.

And that got me thinking.

If a game like that could help me through a difficult time, how many other people had similar experiences?

So I reached out.

I invited other writers and readers to share a moment where a video game helped them through something meaningful in their lives. What they sent back wasn’t just about games. It was about grief, stress, illness, change, and the different ways we all try to move forward.

Here are their stories.

from YouTube

Before Covid, I would say there was this moment in my life where I was very nihilistic. I was very bitter about every aspect of life, it seemed. At the time, both my grandmas died pretty close to each other. To say it affected me greatly would have been an understatement. I was fighting at home all the time, and when I was out at work, I would fight there too. By “fighting,” I mean verbal arguments and lashing out verbally. It wasn’t great, and I was increasingly isolating myself from friends and family.

Now, there was a game that I had zero intention of playing, mostly because, in my current state of being, I loathed the fandom and the memes. The game in question was Undertale. I’m not sure why, but I was gifted the game on Steam. It was from a friend of mine that I haven’t spoken to in a while, but I greatly respected their opinion on games. The message that was left with the gift was, “I have no words for you, just play this game.”

The game changed my outlook on media and games as a whole, but not only that, I found myself not being so nihilistic anymore. I started to be more accepting of people, even if I didn’t realize it. I wasn’t so nasty anymore, and I think it made me realize how much I genuinely love a good story, how I love the characters of that story. In short, it’s like Undertale helped me remember something.

That things did matter to me. There was a reason I was so moved by the characters and the story, to the point I could never even bring myself to do a genocide run, because I couldn’t bear to see the characters I loved so much in pain. That things always mattered to me, maybe a little too much, and to move on with my life and accept the things I can’t change and change the things I can.

I know I could never bring my grandparents back, but I can accept the life they lived and the love we shared and move on. So when you asked me a question, if video games ever got me through a tough or meaningful moment in my life, I can unequivocally say yes, it most certainly has.

Evan C. Moore from Play Moore.

I owe quite a lot to Horizon Forbidden West: Burning Shores.

Three years ago, I hit a really low point. I’ve had panic attacks most of my life. During a particularly difficult time in April 2023, I had them consistently and couldn’t find a way out. I wasn’t eating. I enjoyed nothing.

I was part of the way into my second playthrough of HFW, and the “Burning Shores” DLC was about to come out. It took everything I had to play again, but I did. I spent a couple dozen hours over a few weeks guiding Aloy through her story. Upon the DLC’s release, I was ready to embark to the new area for a new adventure. Going to the DLC area for the first time was pure magic. I got to relax, overcome difficulty, explore, and escape.

And it worked. I had to reinvent myself with the confidence that I could still tap into something I love. After that April, I doubled down on games and play. I got on some medication and found a great therapist. I felt like myself again.

from thoughts & trinkets

When Gris was first added to my Steam library in 2018, I was in a very dark hole. I had given up on hope, and I was just waiting for my end of the line. I launched the game for the first time, and in under a minute, I was in tears. It felt so good. I didn’t know what message the developers were trying to portray yet, but I knew it was for me.

In Gris, you play as Mae, a girl who has lost her voice and whose world has quite literally fallen from under her feet. Accompanied by what, to me, is the most powerful game soundtrack by Berlinist, you navigate the world, regaining Mae’s color and voice. The beautiful thing about Gris is that it’s about whatever you want it to be about, and in that time, it gave me much-needed hope. It pushed me to get out of the hole. It helped me save myself.

Fast forward to my mother’s passing in 2025: I replayed the game, and suddenly it wasn’t about depression. It was about grief. Gris held me close and tight in the time I had to navigate that loss by myself. It has remained a love letter and a vessel of hope.

Mo from from Retro Mo - Game Reviews

Chrono Trigger was there for me many years ago when I was very sick. I was about 11 years old, and I had contracted whatever nasty virus was going around rural Kansas at the time. It was one of the worst bouts of sickness I can remember from my childhood. I missed at least a week of school.

I was so weak I could hardly do anything. My throat was so sore, I couldn’t talk, and it hurt to swallow. Like a sack of potatoes, I sank into the recliner in our living room, sipping water through a straw and playing Chrono Trigger.

I escaped into this incredible fantasy world, able to muster up just enough energy to keep up with the Active Time Battle system. Thanks to Chrono Trigger, what could have been one of the worst weeks of my childhood became one of my favorite memories.

from ROP’s Passions

There was a period when work felt like a constant uphill sprint—heavy workloads, daily deadlines, and so much stress and pressure that even my free time felt… heavy. I needed to relax, but nothing worked. Slower, cozy games couldn’t hold my attention, and even my usual stress-relief old-school shooters, like Serious Sam, felt like too much. I was too tired to aim, too restless to unwind.

Then, somehow, I stumbled onto Clustertruck.

I don’t remember why I picked it. Maybe I wanted something simple, almost childish… it’s basically a “floor is lava” game, but with trucks. And what I found was… unexpected chaos. Fast, unpredictable, ridiculous chaos. Jumping from one wildly moving truck to another, barely holding on, failing, retrying… and laughing.

No story. No pressure. Just pure gameplay and pure joy. It was exactly what I needed.

I didn’t need to think too much, so it cut through the exhaustion. It was fast enough to burn off stress and simple enough not to overwhelm. Every run was messy, unexpected, and always hilarious, on the brink of comedy.

I remember it dearly. A game I never expected to have such an impact and to be one I would replay many times since.

Maddie from Maddie The Game Traveller

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33. It’s a recent game, you probably heard the name a lot last year. This game was probably the best distraction while still being present in my partner’s life.

Last year in April, my partner shared something deeply personal with me. This was an amazing moment and I was so proud, but I knew a lot of change was coming, and that scared me. I’m the kind of person who would wear the same thing every day, keep a routine to make sure I didn’t forget to do something. Change is hard.

A month later, it was our anniversary, and I had been hearing about this game for a while and wanted to try it. We started the game, and we were blown away by the music, world, and characters. It was absolutely charming.

This game took us months to play, but we never stopped talking about the topics it tackled about reality and family. It gave me something to think about while being present in my partner’s life. We experienced something together without the weight of the world. This gave me a moment of peace while trying to figure out what to do next.

from GameThink

Just like many of my peers, my formative years were spent on Call of Duty. I have since moved on, but I will always cherish my early memories with the series, especially Black Ops 3 in particular.

I will always remember the excitement I felt on Christmas Eve of 2015, opening my very own PS4 alongside a copy of Black Ops 3. That same night, I recorded my first attempt on the new Zombies map, Shadows of Evil, and every time a new DLC dropped thereafter, I was up at 4 a.m. to livestream before school. By the time Zombies Chronicles released, I had amassed a community of over 1,000 subscribers on YouTube, all of whom shared the same passion for the game that I did.

This took place during a turbulent time in my home life, but Black Ops 3 gave me something to look forward to. Despite my dad’s constant protesting, I continued creating, and it helped shape who I am today. I learned that there were like-minded people out there.

I wasn’t alone.

Back To Me

After reading through these, one thing becomes clear.

We all cope differently.

There isn’t a single correct way to deal with grief, loss, or difficult moments in life. Some people go outside. Some people talk. Some people create. And some people pick up a controller and step into another world for a while.

And that’s okay.

Video games aren’t always the negative escape they’re sometimes made out to be. Like anything else, it depends on how we use them. In the right space, at the right time, they can offer comfort, structure, connection, and even healing.

What matters is that we find something that helps us move forward.

Not to avoid what we’re feeling, but to process it, little by little, in a way that works for us.

—- Prof. Rock

I want to thank everyone who collaborated with me on this article. Here are their s so you can quickly subscribe if you want to read more interesting thoughts from them.

You can follow over on BlueSky, X and on YouTube!

Play Moore

Medievalist and game studies scholar Evan C. Moore posts rants inspired by student questions and whatever he finds interesting at the time.

By Evan C. Moore

thoughts & trinkets

a brain dump, but a more grammatically correct brain dump than my other brain dumps.

By fawn

Retro Mo – Video Game Reviews

Reviews of old video games (and a few new ones too).

ROP’s Passions

A father, gamer, and geek sharing thoughtful takes on games, tech, collectibles, and the joy of passing it all on.

Maddy The Game Traveller

I share my adventures within games

GameThink

Thoughtful analysis of video games and the industry at large.

By Tobias James

Once again Thanks for reading!

Subscribe now

For years, physical and digital games have shared the same price. Whether you walked into a store and picked up a cartridge or downloaded the game directly from the eShop, the cost didn’t change. It felt balanced. It felt fair. But now, Nintendo has started signaling that this might not be the case anymore. Going forward, digital versions of their games may actually be cheaper than physical ones.

At first glance, that sounds like good news. Who wouldn’t want to save ten dollars? But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this decision isn’t really about giving players a deal. It’s about something much bigger.

It started with a simple realization. If a game is sold digitally, what are you actually paying for? There’s no cartridge being produced, no plastic case, no shipping trucks, no shelves in a retail store. There isn’t even a middleman in the traditional sense. It’s just a file, delivered directly to your system. And when you look at it that way, it becomes clear that the cost structure behind digital games is completely different.

When Nintendo sells a physical game, that sale is divided across multiple layers. Retailers take a portion. Manufacturing costs add up, especially with cartridges, which are more expensive than discs. Distribution and logistics also play a role. By the time everything is accounted for, Nintendo ends up keeping only a portion of the final price.

Digital changes that equation entirely. When a game is purchased through the eShop, the transaction happens within Nintendo’s own ecosystem. There are still costs, of course, such as payment processing and server infrastructure, but they are minimal compared to producing and distributing a physical product. As a result, Nintendo keeps a much larger share of each sale.

This is where the pricing shift starts to make sense. Even if Nintendo lowers the price of a digital game by ten dollars, they can still earn more per copy than they would from a physical version sold at a higher price. In other words, the discount isn’t a loss. It’s a strategy.

What makes this even more interesting is that this isn’t new for the gaming industry as a whole. On PC, digital has already become the standard. Platforms like Steam and Epic Games Store have operated without physical releases for years. Players download their games, build digital libraries, and rarely think twice about not owning a physical copy. In many ways, the shift Nintendo is making now is simply bringing console gaming closer to a model that already exists elsewhere.

And yet, there’s still something about it that feels a little uncomfortable.

Physical games carry a sense of ownership that digital purchases don’t fully replicate. You can hold them, lend them, resell them, or revisit them years later without worrying about servers or account access. Digital games, while convenient, depend on systems that can change over time.

We’ve already seen what happens when those systems disappear. When the Nintendo 3DS eShop shut down, a large number of games became difficult to access or vanished entirely unless they had been downloaded beforehand. That moment served as a reminder that digital libraries, for all their convenience, are not permanent in the same way physical collections are.

At the same time, it does seem like Nintendo has been trying to adapt. Through services like Nintendo Switch Online and the steady re-release of older titles, there is an effort to preserve access, even if it’s not always in the form players might prefer. It’s not a perfect solution, but it suggests an awareness of the problem.

In the end, this shift toward cheaper digital pricing feels less like a simple change and more like a clear signal. Nintendo is leaning into a future where digital distribution becomes the norm, physical copies become less central, and pricing reflects the realities of that model.

I still appreciate physical games. There’s something about inserting a cartridge and knowing it’s yours that hasn’t lost its value for me. But at the same time, it’s hard to ignore the direction things are heading. Digital is more efficient, more profitable, and now, increasingly, more affordable.

- Prof. Rock.

Leave a comment

In The Legend of Zelda, we meet characters like Link, Zelda, and Ganondorf. But imagine if we had to repeat their names in every sentence…

That would get exhausting really fast.

That’s where pronouns come in.

Subscribe now

🧝‍♂️ What Is a Pronoun?

A pronoun is a word that replaces a noun.

Instead of repeating a name over and over, we can use words like:

• he, she, they

• him, her, them

• his, her, their

Let’s see it in action:

Link entered the castle. Link fought Ganondorf.

Now with pronouns:

Link entered the castle. He fought Ganondorf.

Much smoother.

⚔️ Subject Pronouns

Subject pronouns are used as the subject of a sentence.

• I, you, he, she, it, we, they

Examples:

He saved Hyrule.
She protected the kingdom.
They traveled across the land.

👉 These tell us who is doing the action.

🛡️ Object Pronouns

Object pronouns receive the action.

• me, you, him, her, it, us, them

Examples:

Zelda helped him.
Ganondorf attacked them.
The king trusted her.

👉 These tell us who is receiving the action.

👑 Possessive and Demonstrative Pronouns

💰 Possessive Pronouns (show ownership)

• mine, yours, his, hers, its, ours, theirs

Examples:

This sword is his.
The kingdom is hers.

👉 Demonstrative Pronouns (point to things)

• this, that, these, those

Examples:

This is the Master Sword.
Those are the enemies approaching.

🧩 Relative Pronouns and Relative Adverbs

These help connect ideas and give more information.

🔗 Relative Pronouns:

• who, whom, whose, which, that

Example:

Link is the hero who saved Hyrule.

⏳ Relative Adverbs:

• where, when, why

Example:

This is the place where Link found the sword.

🔄 Contractions with Pronouns

Contractions combine pronouns with other words to make speech more natural.

• he’s (he is)

• she’s (she is)

• they’re (they are)

• it’s (it is)

Examples:

He’s ready for battle.
They’re exploring the dungeon.

👉 These are very common in everyday writing and conversation.

📝 Quick Practice

Part 1: Replace the Noun

Rewrite using a pronoun.

Link found the sword. → ______ found the sword.

Zelda protected the kingdom. → ______ protected the kingdom.

Part 2: Choose the Correct Pronoun

Zelda helped (he / him).

Ganondorf attacked (they / them).

Part 3: Identify the Type

What type of pronoun is underlined?

She saved Hyrule. ______

This shield is his. ______

Link is the hero who fights evil. ______

💬 Why Zelda?

The world of The Legend of Zelda is full of characters, stories, and relationships.

Without pronouns, every sentence would feel repetitive.

Pronouns help us:

• avoid repetition

• make writing smoother

• connect ideas more clearly

And just like Link doesn’t need to say his name every time…

our writing doesn’t either.

Thanks for adventuring through this lesson with me in Grammar Through Video Games.

Until next time, keep crafting and keep learning.

— Prof. Rock

Not because I don’t love Pokémon. It’s actually the opposite. I’ve always loved the idea of it. The strategy, the team-building, the battles. But if I’m being honest, there’s always been this quiet barrier sitting in the background. That feeling that if you didn’t keep up with every release, if you didn’t grind for hours, if you didn’t understand EVs, IVs, natures, abilities… then you were kind of just watching from the outside.

That’s why when I watched the trailer for Pokémon Champions, something felt different.

Subscribe now

This isn’t about exploring a region or collecting badges. This is just battles. Straight to the point. And for the first time in a while, I didn’t feel like the game was asking me to prove anything before letting me play. It actually felt like it was inviting me in.

What really stood out to me was the idea that you can just log in and start building a team. You don’t need to own the latest mainline game. You don’t need to transfer a perfectly trained Pokémon through Pokémon HOME. You can simply recruit one, try it out, and jump into a match. There’s something refreshing about that. It lowers the barrier in a way that Pokémon hasn’t really done before.

At the same time, I’ll admit there’s a part of me that wonders how fair it’s all going to feel. Because while one player might be experimenting with a newly recruited Pokémon, another could be bringing in a team they’ve carefully built over years, possibly even transferred from Pokémon GO or other titles. That gap could feel pretty real. But then again, the system with Victory Points, where you can gradually build and customize your own team, makes me think the game is trying to meet players halfway. You don’t start with everything, but you’re not locked out either.

And honestly, I like that balance. It feels a bit like real life learning. You don’t walk into a classroom knowing everything, but you’re given tools, opportunities, and time to grow into it.

Another moment that stuck with me was being able to see your opponent’s team before the battle. That small detail changes everything. Suddenly it’s not just about having strong Pokémon. It’s about thinking ahead, making decisions, predicting what someone else might do. It becomes less about grinding and more about strategy. And that’s the kind of gameplay that keeps people coming back.

The more I think about it, the more I realize why this announcement hit me the way it did. I’ve seen competitive Pokémon battles before, and I’ve always thought, “That looks amazing… but I’m never going to get there.” This might be the first time I feel like I actually could. Not because I suddenly have more time, but because the game is finally designed in a way that respects the time I do have.

Of course, there’s still that question in the back of my mind about the Starter Pack. We don’t know the price yet, and if there’s one thing games like this have taught us, it’s that pricing can make or break the experience. If it feels fair, people will jump in. If it feels like a paywall, that excitement can disappear quickly. I’m really hoping they get that part right, because everything else they’re building here feels like it’s pointing in a really good direction.

At the end of the day, what stayed with me most is this feeling that Pokémon Champions isn’t just for the longtime competitive players. It’s for people like me. People who love the idea of battling, who enjoy the strategy, but who don’t always have the time or energy to keep up with everything the series demands.

And if this game really delivers on that promise… I can already see myself jumping into a match after a long day, picking a team, thinking through my moves, and just enjoying the moment.

No pressure. Just play.

— Prof. Rock

Leave a comment

Kirby is known for one thing above all… copying and combining abilities. Whether he’s inhaling enemies or mixing powers, Kirby shows us how combining things can create something stronger.

That’s exactly what conjunctions do in language.

Subscribe now

🔗 What Is a Conjunction?

A conjunction is a word that joins ideas together.

It can connect:

• words

• phrases

• or complete sentences

Some common conjunctions include:

• and

• but

• so

• because

Let’s look at them in action:

Kirby floats and fights enemies.
Kirby is small but powerful.
Kirby inhaled the enemy so he gained a new ability.
Kirby won the battle because he adapted quickly.

🌟 Combining Ideas Like Kirby

Think about how Kirby works:

• He takes in one ability

• Then combines it with his actions

• And creates something new

Without conjunctions, sentences feel separate:

Kirby jumps. He attacks.

With conjunctions:

Kirby jumps and attacks.

Now the idea feels complete.

🧠 Meet FANBOYS (The Power-Up Set)

There’s a group of conjunctions that work like Kirby’s main abilities. We call them FANBOYS:

• F – for (reason)

• A – and (addition)

• N – nor (negative)

• B – but (contrast)

• O – or (choice)

• Y – yet (contrast)

• S – so (result)

Examples:

Kirby jumps and attacks.
You can fly or run.
Kirby is small yet powerful.
Kirby was tired, so he rested.

These are called coordinating conjunctions, and they help connect equal ideas.

🧩 Going a Step Further

Some conjunctions help us explain time, cause, or conditions. These include:

• because

• when

• after

• before

• if

• while

Examples:

Kirby won because he trained.
When Kirby flies, he avoids danger.
Kirby rested after the battle.

These help students create more detailed and meaningful sentences.

📝 Quick Practice

Part 1: Choose the Conjunction

Fill in the blank with the best conjunction.

Kirby is cute ___ powerful.

Kirby inhaled the enemy ___ gained a new ability.

Kirby was tired ___ he kept going.

Kirby won ___ he never gave up.

Part 2: Combine the Sentences

Use a conjunction to join each pair.

Kirby jumped. Kirby attacked.

Kirby is small. Kirby is strong.

Kirby trained hard. Kirby won the battle.

Kirby was hungry. Kirby searched for food.

Part 3: Identify the Conjunction

Underline the conjunction in each sentence.

Kirby ran and dodged the attack.

Kirby is small but brave.

Kirby practiced because he wanted to improve.

Kirby was tired, so he rested.

💬 Why Kirby?

Kirby’s entire gameplay is about combining abilities to solve problems.

That’s exactly what students are learning here.

Conjunctions help them:

• connect ideas

• explain their thinking

• write more complete sentences

And once they understand this, their writing starts to feel more natural and more powerful.

Thanks for floating through this lesson with me in Grammar Through Video Games.

Next up… we keep leveling up.

Until next time, keep crafting and keep learning.

— Prof. Rock

(C) Images from https://wikirby.com/

Share

As I’m writing this, Prof. Rock’s Learning Arcade is about to reach 100 subscribers. Technically speaking, I’m writing this just before it happens. I wanted to get the words down while the moment still feels fresh. The plan is simple. This post will go live once the number hits 100.

Subscribe now

A few months ago, I actually slowed down my writing here on . When I first started, I was posting a lot. Almost every week there was something new. The reason was simple. I had a lot of ideas stuck in my head.

Originally, those ideas were meant for a YouTube channel. I tried creating some video content, but the reality is that I didn’t have the time for it, and the videos themselves were not really getting views. Eventually I stumbled onto Substack.

What immediately stood out to me was how simple it was. I had thought about starting a WordPress blog or trying other platforms, but those places always felt like you were just publishing something and hoping someone might find it. Substack felt different because there was already a community built into it.

When I started posting, I immediately began seeing notifications. People were reading, subscribing, commenting, and connecting with each other. That was very interesting to me. It did not feel like I was just throwing articles into the internet and hoping they landed somewhere.

In the process, I also started reading a lot of other Substacks. Many of them focus on gaming, which is an area where I seem to connect well with readers. So reaching 100 subscribers means a lot to me. One hundred people clicked the subscribe button and are willing to receive my nonsense in their inboxes.

Although, to be fair, there is a good chance most of those emails end up in the junk folder. I have noticed that many of the Substacks I subscribe to go straight to junk in my own email. Because of that, I usually just open the Substack app and browse around to see what everyone is writing.

Still, whether it is the inbox, the junk folder, or the app, the point is the same. I am grateful.

A funny thing happened along the way. The blog did not really start growing because I posted more. If anything, I became more selective with what I wrote. What changed was that Learning Arcade started to feel more like itself.

The intersection of gaming and education started becoming clearer.

When I call myself Prof. Rock, it is actually a small homage to Professor Oak from Pokémon. In those games, the professor guides players as they explore the world and learn new things. As an actual teacher in real life, I like leaning into that idea. The blog became a place where I could explore the connection between games, learning, and technology.

So now that we are about to hit 100 subscribers, I thought it would be fun to look back at some of the articles that helped build this little corner of the internet.

Some of the Posts That Resonated the Most

A few posts clearly stood out and brought a lot of readers to the blog.

One of the biggest ones was How Stardew Valley Teaches Real-World Skills in the Classroom. That article really captured what Learning Arcade is about. It explored how a relaxing farming game can actually teach planning, resource management, and problem solving.

Another strong performer was Gamifying Learning with GimKit. Teachers seem to love practical tools, and GimKit is one of those platforms that can instantly make a classroom more engaging.

I also wrote Pokémon and Graphics: Are We Expecting Too Much or Too Little?, which sparked a lot of conversation. It turns out that talking about Pokémon always brings people out of the woodwork.

More recently, Why I Finally Understand Why Pokémon FireRed and LeafGreen Are $19.99 also did very well. Sometimes all it takes is revisiting an old topic with a new perspective.

Some Personal Favorites

Some articles may not have been the biggest traffic drivers, but they are still among my favorites.

From Love to Letting Go: My Journey with The Sims was one of those reflective pieces where I looked back at a game that meant a lot to me over the years.

Six Months with My Nintendo Switch 2 was another fun one to write, simply because it was a chance to reflect on how gaming habits evolve over time.

And Blocked for Using AI? What Happened to Me on BlueSky ended up being one of the more personal posts on the blog. It also generated a lot of discussion about how people perceive AI and online communities.

A Few Hidden Gems

Some posts did not get huge attention at first, but I still think they are worth checking out.

For example, RoomRecess.com: A Hidden Gem for Simple, Effective Learning highlights a really useful classroom resource that many teachers may not know about.

Another one was Flying Through Geography: Using GeoFS in Social Studies Class, which explored how a flight simulator can turn geography lessons into something far more interactive.

And then there is How I Built a Library of Free Games (Legally!). That one dives into something every gamer loves. Finding great games without spending a fortune.

The Posts That Didn’t Quite Take Off

Not every article becomes a hit, and that is perfectly fine.

For example, some of the Grammar Level One ESL lessons did not get much attention when they were first published. But those posts were created more as long term resources than headline articles.

The same goes for posts like Unlocking Vocabulary: How Greek Roots Bridge English and Spanish. It may not have been widely read at first, but it is exactly the kind of language topic I enjoy exploring.

Sometimes the quiet posts end up becoming the most useful ones later on.

So if you are a new subscriber, there is a good chance there are older posts hiding in the archive that you might enjoy discovering.

Thank You for Being Here

At the end of the day, this blog started as a place to share ideas that were originally meant for a YouTube channel that never quite happened.

Instead, it became something better.

It became a small community of readers who enjoy the overlap between gaming, education, and technology.

So whether you have been here since the early posts, or you just recently discovered Learning Arcade, thank you for clicking that subscribe button.

One hundred subscribers may be a small milestone in the grand scheme of the internet, but to me it means that this little experiment in writing has found an audience.

And that is pretty awesome.

— Prof. Rock

Before you go, I’m curious about something.

If you have been reading Learning Arcade for a while, which post brought you here?

Was it one of the gaming articles, one of the classroom ideas, or something else entirely?

I would love to know.

Leave a comment

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!! 🥹

But after the recent Pokémon Direct, my perspective shifted.

Subscribe now

There had been a lot of speculation about whether FireRed and LeafGreen would connect to Pokémon HOME, and once it was officially confirmed that they would, the pricing started to make more sense to me. That connection changes the value proposition completely. These are no longer just nostalgic re-releases. They become part of the modern Pokémon ecosystem. And with Pokémon Champions positioned as the official competitive hub moving forward, that ecosystem matters more than ever. If a Pokémon you catch and train in FireRed can eventually battle alongside creatures from newer generations, then what you’re buying is not just an old cartridge experience. You’re buying long-term compatibility.

That realization also helped me understand why the game appears to be completely faithful to the original. No speed-up options. No modern quality-of-life changes. No faster dialogue or streamlined grinding. At first glance, that feels like a missed opportunity. We all know emulators and ROM hacks can speed things up. But once you introduce Pokémon Home compatibility, the integrity of the original mechanics becomes important. If these Pokémon are going to move forward into official competitive formats, then the experience has to remain authentic. The grind is part of the design. The pacing is part of the design. As much as we may want convenience, this is an official pipeline into the future of the franchise. That means fewer shortcuts.

That doesn’t mean everyone needs to buy it. I’m a fan. I grew up with these games. But I also know myself. I’m not planning to replay FireRed from beginning to end right now. If it were included in Nintendo Switch Online’s Game Boy library, I’d probably dip into it casually for nostalgia’s sake. But that’s different from intentionally raising a team with the purpose of transferring them forward. The people buying this are likely the ones who care about that long-term connectivity, the collectors and competitive players who see value in moving their Pokémon across generations.

And this is where I think there’s actually a smart middle ground. I see no issue with Nintendo eventually placing FireRed and LeafGreen into the Nintendo Switch Online Game Boy library as well, but keeping that version disconnected from Pokémon Home. Let casual players enjoy it with save states and rewind features. Let them experience Kanto without worrying about transfers. Meanwhile, the $19.99 version remains the official, Home-compatible edition for those who want ownership and long-term integration. That would clearly separate the experiences and make the pricing easier to understand for everyone.

If I have one lingering wish, it’s that trading and transferring could feel more modern. Yes, local trades are part of Pokémon’s DNA, and there’s something charming about that. But we live in an era of online connectivity. It would be nice to see more seamless integration into current communication features. Still, that’s a smaller critique in the bigger picture.

And speaking of the bigger picture, it’s kind of wild to think about where we’re heading. After Pokémon Legends: Z-A, we’re finally stepping into what feels like a true next-generation era with Pokémon Winds and Waves. I wrote previously about hoping for a real graphical and structural leap for the series, and now we’re actually seeing that transition unfold. In that context, FireRed and LeafGreen feel less like simple nostalgia ports and more like bridges. They connect the early 2000s era of Pokémon to whatever the franchise is becoming next.

Am I personally rushing out to buy it? Probably not. But do I understand why it costs $19.99 now? Yes. Once you factor in Pokémon Home compatibility and the long-term competitive ecosystem, it feels less like paying for an old ROM and more like investing in a connected, evolving system. And honestly, I’m okay with that.

-Prof. Rock

Leave a comment

You can read my previous article about Pokémon and Graphics!

“Alright class, today we’re flying to Egypt.”

Not watching a video.
Not opening a textbook.
Not clicking through slides.

Flying.

Recently I came across GeoFS, a free, browser-based flight simulator that runs on global satellite imagery. No installation. No heavy gaming PC. Just open a browser and you’re in the cockpit.

And immediately my teacher brain started spinning.

Because this isn’t just a game.

It’s a virtual field trip machine.

Subscribe now

Why GeoFS Caught My Attention

Here’s what makes it interesting from an educator’s perspective:

• Free version available in the browser

• Real satellite imagery of the entire planet

• Multiplayer capability

• Real navigation charts and runway data

• Live weather pulled from real-world data

• Works on Windows, Mac, Linux, and even mobile

There’s also a paid HD subscription, but even the free 10-meter satellite resolution is more than enough for classroom exploration.

It runs on the Cesium virtual globe framework, similar in feel to Google Earth, but interactive and fully flyable.

And that’s where the magic starts.

Imagine This in a Social Studies Classroom

Let me walk you through what I pictured.

You start class at your local airport.

If I were doing this here in Puerto Rico, I’d load up Luis Muñoz Marín International Airport.

Students take off.

The plane climbs.

You engage autopilot once stable.

And while the aircraft cruises…

Students research the destination.

Maybe today we’re studying:

• The Nile River

• The Amazon Rainforest

• The Great Wall of China

• Rome during the Roman Empire

• The Appalachian Mountains

Once students identify key landmarks, they become navigators.

“Alright, find the Nile Delta.”
“Where is the Colosseum?”
“Locate the Andes.”

Then they descend and fly toward those spots.

Now imagine the assignment:

Take aerial screenshots of three important geographic features.
Annotate them.
Explain their historical or economic importance.

That’s not passive learning.

That’s immersive geography.

Turning It Into a Structured Lesson

Here’s how I’d structure it:

1. Launch Phase

Students start at a local airport.
Quick refresher on latitude, longitude, and global regions.

2. Research Phase

While cruising at altitude, students research:

• Climate

• Population

• Major exports

• Historical significance

• Cultural landmarks

3. Navigation Phase

Students guide the plane toward specific landmarks using:

• Map search

• Coordinates

• Visual cues

4. Documentation Phase

Students capture screenshots of:

• Landforms

• Cities

• Rivers

• Borders

Then they create a short presentation explaining what they “observed from the air.”

Why This Works

As teachers, we know engagement changes everything.

When students feel like they’re traveling somewhere, geography stops being abstract.

It becomes spatial.
Visual.
Real.

GeoFS even simulates:

• Lift and drag

• Stall physics

• Weather patterns

• Day/night cycles

You could even integrate science by discussing wind currents or terrain elevation.

And because it’s massively multiplayer, you could theoretically have a whole class flying together.

Realistic and Accessible

One thing I appreciate is that GeoFS simplifies controls enough for beginners but keeps real aviation principles intact.

Students can:

• Fly a Cessna 172

• Try a glider

• Use autopilot

• Practice approaches with runway lights and PAPI guidance

And yes, there are fighter jets and airliners too. So, supervision matters.

But as a structured classroom tool? It has serious potential.

The Bigger Idea

We talk a lot about “virtual field trips.”

But most of the time that means clicking through photos.

This feels different.

This feels active.

This feels like giving students control over their exploration.

And I can’t help but imagine a unit where:

• Students “fly” trade routes

• Recreate historical voyages

• Track global climate zones

• Compare urban density from above

Learning through movement.

Learning through perspective.

Learning through play.

Final Thought

GeoFS wasn’t designed specifically for schools.

But sometimes the best educational tools aren’t labeled “educational.”

They’re just powerful and creative teachers see the possibilities.

If you’ve ever wanted to let your students travel the world without leaving the classroom…

You might want to open a browser and try a takeoff.

And if you do try it in your classroom, I’d genuinely love to hear how it goes.

Because whether it’s through games, tech, or teaching…

We’re all trying to help kids soar a little higher.

— Prof. Rock

Leave a comment

Subscribe now

Because the truth is, football was never part of my life growing up. I didn’t watch it as a kid. I didn’t grow up in a house where Sundays revolved around a game. The closest I ever got to football was playing NFL Blitz on my GameCube. I knew Madden existed, but I never touched it. Football just wasn’t my thing.

That changed in 2013, the year I found out I was going to be a dad.

I remember feeling overwhelmed. Excited, yes, but also anxious in a way I had never felt before. A friend of mine noticed that and said something simple that stuck with me. He told me I needed something to focus on while I was preparing for this huge life change. Something steady. Something outside my own head. He suggested football.

So he took my wife and me to a bar to watch a game. She couldn’t drink at the time, obviously, but she came along anyway. As the game played, my friend explained what was happening. The rules. The pacing. Why certain plays mattered. And something clicked.

Football wasn’t fast in the way I expected. It took its time. There were pauses. There was strategy. It was still exciting, but it gave my mind something to settle into. During a moment in my life where everything felt like it was speeding up, football slowed things down just enough.

He gave me one rule. Pick a team, and stick with them for the rest of the season, no matter what.

So I did what any 90s kid would do. I looked at logos. And for whatever reason, my brain said, that’s it. The Houston Texans. As of today, if you know anything about football, you can imagine my love-hate relationship with this team.

By October of that year, when my son was born, I was fully in. I had even subscribed to ESPN Magazine, and the promo gift that came with it was a Texans jacket. That’s what I was wearing at the hospital the day my son was born. Looking back, it feels symbolic in a strange way. Football had become this quiet companion during one of the biggest moments of my life.

It stayed with us after that. The following Super Bowl, I bought my son a Broncos onesie because I was really hoping they would win that year. I enjoyed watching the game. I enjoyed the ritual of it. Over time, watching football became something social. Going to a friend’s house. Hanging out. Saying, yeah, let’s watch the Super Bowl.

But here’s where my mild frustration started.

A lot of those gatherings weren’t really about the game. People would talk through entire drives. Conversations would drown out the action. And eventually it became clear that many were just waiting for the halftime show. I enjoy the halftime show too, but I actually wanted to watch the game. That disconnect always stuck with me.

Even now, I’ll admit that over the last couple of years I haven’t been as invested as I once was. Life shifts. Focus changes. But when the playoffs roll around, I still know who’s playing. I know which teams were strong. I know who I’m rooting for. That part never really left.

What has always fascinated me is how much the Super Bowl conversation centers on halftime.

And honestly, it always has.

I remember as a kid watching the halftime show when NSYNC, Britney Spears, and Aerosmith performed together. I wasn’t watching the game. I didn’t even fully understand that this performance was happening in between something else. To me, it was just a big show.

So when people ask why halftime feels bigger now, I don’t think it’s new. We just notice it more.

This year, that conversation feels especially loud for me because I’m from Puerto Ric and having Bad Bunny connected to the Super Bowl is a big deal. His growth, his accolades, the way he’s put the island on the map, even though it’s always been there, that matters.

At the same time, I’ve heard people say, where are you going to watch the halftime show, instead of where are you going to watch the Super Bowl. I’m happy people are tuning in. I really am. I just wish the game itself didn’t feel like an afterthought.

Which brings me to my biggest halftime gripe.

Once I really started paying attention, I noticed that many Super Bowl halftime performances forget one important thing. They’re happening in a stadium.

On TV, these performances look incredible. Cinematic. Polished. They feel like full concerts designed for the viewer at home. And that’s great. But what about the people in the stands?

Some performers get this right. Katy Perry absolutely dominated the field. She used the space. The scale. That lion moving across the stage made the entire stadium feel alive. Coldplay did something similar, especially when the field became part of the experience.

Others, while still great, feel like a concert dropped into the middle of a football field. I remember watching Bruno Mars at the Super Bowl and enjoying it, but realizing I had seen that exact same concert in Puerto Rico the year before. It wasn’t reimagined for the space. It was translated.

You have the entire field. Not just a stage. That’s what excites me when performers really lean into it.

And yes, side note, my wife is still sad that Pink has never done a Super Bowl halftime show. I agree. She would absolutely light up that field.

But this article isn’t really about football. Or halftime. Or even the Super Bowl.

It’s about something bigger.

We live in a time where people are quick to tear things down. Quick to dismiss. Quick to say something is bad without really engaging with it. And that’s something I’ve noticed more the older I get.

I love living in Puerto Rico. I’ve also visited the Dominican Republic. I’ve spent time in New York. A summer in New Jersey with family. Educational conferences in Philadelphia. Every place had something beautiful about it. Something worth absorbing.

I think we’re missing that mindset.

You don’t have to like everything. You don’t have to care about football. Maybe you love soccer instead. That’s fine. But there’s a difference between not liking something and not even giving it a chance.

Football was something I could enjoy during a stressful, life-changing moment. It gave me focus when I needed it. And to this day, I still enjoy watching a game or two. Sitting with friends. Complaining about a call. Talking about a good play.

So this Super Bowl Sunday, enjoy what you enjoy. Watch the game. Watch the halftime show. Critique it if you want. Just don’t dismiss it without really seeing it.

There’s good in more things than we sometimes allow ourselves to notice.

-Prof. Rock

Leave a comment

When I bought mine, it was just the Mario Kart bundle. I played it, enjoyed it, and then moved on. So yes, I understand where that feeling comes from.

But my six months have been very different.

I genuinely needed the upgrade, especially for my eyesight. The original Switch just was not working for me anymore. On top of that, my son also got a Switch 2. We saved up. We took our time. This was not an impulse buy. And for him, the experience has been great. Games like Minecraft load noticeably faster, and everything just feels smoother.

We are mostly playing older games. I could have kept playing Ori and the Blind Forest on Switch 1, but the faster loading and performance bump make a real difference on Switch 2.

What really pushed me back in this week was the free update announcement for Donkey Kong Country HD. I bought it on sale for about 30 bucks, loved what I played, but never fully dove in. My son did not connect with it, so I happily took the cartridge back, so I will be playing that now.

I am also playing more now in general. Final Fantasy VII Remake just dropped, and the demo runs beautifully. I have Star Wars Outlaws too, and I jump in whenever I can.

So for me, these six months have been good. The spec bump is real, and it has improved how I actually use the system.

I still believe this though. If you are not constantly gaming on your Switch 1, then the Switch 2 probably is not for you. And that is okay. But if you needed the upgrade and you actually play, the experience has been absolutely worth it.

-Prof Rock

If you're new to the newsletter, you might want to check out the story of how I got my Switch 2.

Leave a comment

Subscribe now

Chairs.

Subscribe now

We use them every day. We barely think about them. They’re just there. But the chair, as ordinary as it feels, didn’t suddenly appear one day fully formed.

If you go looking for who invented the chair, you quickly run into a problem. There isn’t a single answer. Historians point to ancient Egypt, where chairs were symbols of power and status as early as 2680 BC. Later, Greek and Roman cultures adapted them. During the Renaissance, chairs became more common, reflecting changes in craftsmanship, materials, and social structure. Even modern designers like Charles and Ray Eames didn’t invent the chair so much as redefine it for their time.

As several authors point out, including those writing for Wikipedia and design history sites like Enkledesigns, the chair is a collective creation. It evolved. It adapted. It changed based on human needs.

Now let’s narrow that focus.

The folding chair.

If you do a quick search, you’ll likely see Nathaniel Alexander credited with inventing the folding chair in 1911. And that’s not wrong. Alexander did patent a folding chair design, one that even included a book rest, making it especially useful for schools, churches, and auditoriums. ThoughtCo and Sciencing both discuss his contribution in detail.

But here’s the thing.

As Elias Nash explains in his Sciencing article, folding chairs existed long before that patent. Versions of collapsible chairs have been found in ancient civilizations, where they were symbols of authority rather than practical seating. Alexander didn’t invent the idea. He refined it. He adapted it. He made it work for a specific context and time.

Sound familiar?

Then there’s the part of the story that feels almost ridiculous at first.

Professional wrestling.

According to articles from WhatCulture and other wrestling historians, the folding chair found its way into wrestling in the 1940s, with Wild Bill Curry often cited as one of the first wrestlers to use it effectively. Later, the modern steel folding chair, mass produced after designs by Fredric Arnold in the late 1940s and 1950s, became synonymous with wrestling spectacle. By the late 1990s and early 2000s, the folding chair wasn’t furniture anymore. It was a weapon. A symbol. A storytelling tool.

Same object. Completely different use.

So let me ask you something.

Can you see where I’m headed with this?

Because the problem was never the chair.

Something can be invented with a clear purpose, but the real issue is what we decide to do with it afterward. A chair exists so we can sit. A folding chair exists to make that easier, more flexible, more accessible. The moment it becomes something else, especially something harmful, the object itself hasn’t changed. The intent has.

That’s where my concern lies.

AI really isn’t the problem. The users are.

AI is a tool. And honestly, it can be a very good one. I use it when I write. I run my work through it for spelling. I check flow. Sometimes it helps me see a sentence more clearly or smooth out something that feels clunky. Used that way, AI is supportive. It doesn’t replace thinking. It sharpens it.

But we also have to be honest.

There are people using AI in ways that are careless at best and harmful at worst. Entire articles generated without thought. Websites filled with AI produced content meant to mislead. Fake news written faster than it can be fact checked. That misuse is real, and ignoring it doesn’t help anyone.

Still, disliking misuse does not mean hating the tool itself.

The problem has never been AI existing. The problem is how people choose to use it.

And this is where the chair comes back into the conversation.

A folding chair is useful. It’s practical. It’s been around for years because it solves a real need. But when it’s used as a weapon, the chair didn’t suddenly become evil. It was taken out of context and used in a way it was never meant to be used.

AI works the same way.

It isn’t dangerous by default. It becomes dangerous when it’s stripped of intention, responsibility, and ethics. When it replaces thinking instead of supporting it. When speed matters more than truth.

That distinction matters. Especially in education.

Because if we treat AI as the villain, we miss the real issue entirely. Tools don’t make choices. People do.

And that’s the conversation we actually need to be having.

So What Now?

If we’re being honest, we already know the problem.

AI isn’t inherently bad. The issue has always been how it’s used. And that means the next step doesn’t start with bans or panic. It starts with responsibility.

Us as users.

One of the simplest things we can do is stop rewarding content that adds nothing. If we’re creating what people now call “AI slop,” or if we’re consuming it without thinking, we’re teaching the algorithm that this is what we want.

And algorithms listen.

When I see a video and it’s clearly AI generated, I pause. I look at it. I don’t react emotionally. I ask myself, is this actually adding value? If the answer is no, I don’t like it. If anything, I do the opposite. On platforms like YouTube, that’s easy. I can tell the system, this isn’t for me.

I’ve noticed something interesting there. Many of those AI generated videos sit at ten likes. Sometimes fewer. That tells me people are paying attention. They’re quietly pushing back. They’re choosing not to amplify content that feels hollow or misleading.

Other platforms make this harder.

On TikTok, there’s no clear “unlike.” You can mark something as not interested, but it takes more effort, and AI generated content seems to thrive there. It circulates easily. It blends in. It gets rewarded simply because it exists.

So I make a choice.

If a platform becomes a place where low effort AI content dominates and there’s no meaningful way to push back, I stop supporting it. I scroll less. I disengage. I don’t feed the machine. That’s part of responsibility too.

This isn’t about being anti AI. It’s about being intentional.

We analyze what we see. We question what we consume. We decide what deserves attention. Whether we’re teachers, students, creators, or just people scrolling after a long day, we all shape the ecosystem in small ways.

That folding chair still works because we use it for what it was meant to do.

AI can work the same way.

It can support creativity, learning, and problem solving if we use it wisely. But if we turn it into noise, manipulation, or shortcuts that replace thinking, that’s on us.

The problem was never the chair.
And it was never AI.

The real question is whether we’re willing to be responsible users of the tools we’ve been given.

Leave a comment

References

Bellis, Mary. “Nathaniel Alexander, Inventor of a Folding Chair.” ThoughtCo.

https://www.thoughtco.com/nathaniel-alexander-folding-chair-4074172

“Folding Chair.” Wikipedia.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Folding_chair

“Who Invented the Folding Chair?” Blossom Furnishings.

https://blossomfurnishings.com/who-invented-the-folding-chair/

“The Origins of Wrestling’s Favorite Foreign Objects.” WhatCulture.

https://whatculture.com/wwe/the-origins-of-wrestling-s-6-favourite-foreign-objects

Final Note

If you’ve made it this far, thank you. I really appreciate you taking the time to read this.

This is my first article of 2026, and I won’t lie, it took some work to get here. A lot has been happening in my life, and I’m trying to get more organized and more intentional with what I create. I really want to keep this Substack going, but I also want the articles to be thoughtful, meaningful, and worth your time.

Last year, I wrote a lot because many of those posts were ideas I had been sitting on for a while. Some of them were originally meant to be videos. I eventually had to be honest with myself. I don’t have the time or energy right now for video editing or production. Writing lets the content exist in a way that’s accessible, searchable, and always there. And honestly, I think this is the right place for it.

I’m happy to be here. I’m happy to see people doing well on Substack. I don’t see this ever becoming something I monetize. This space is more about having somewhere to think out loud, reflect, and share ideas as they come together. And I’m grateful that you’re here for that.

If you’d like to subscribe or share this article, please feel free to do so. This one took about two weeks to write. I started the year saying I wanted to write more, then hyper focused on getting this piece right, connecting the ideas, and making sure it actually made sense.

Looking ahead, one of my goals is to keep building out the Grammar Through Video Games section. I’d like to create worksheets to go along with those posts, so teachers and English learners can practice the ideas a bit more. Simple sentence work, tied to the video game examples already discussed. Practical, usable, and hopefully helpful.

That’s where I’m headed.

Thanks again for reading and for being part of this space.

— Prof. Rock

And look, before anyone feels called out, I say this with love. I have made every mistake on this list. Probably more than once. Sometimes twice in the same test. Learning to design a good assessment is like leveling up in a game. You think you’ve mastered it, then suddenly a new mechanic pops up and you go back to the tutorial screen.

So today I want to talk about some common practices that quietly sabotage student success. Not because the students don’t know the content, but because the design of the evaluation gets in the way. And since this is the Learning Arcade, we’ll walk through these issues as if we’re chatting in the teacher’s lounge, holding cold coffee that we absolutely meant to drink an hour ago.

The Matching Mishap

The classic mistake we all make

Let’s start with the one that inspired this post. Matching questions.

Most teachers (my past self included) put the vocabulary words in Column A and the definitions in Column B. Seems harmless. But when you do that, students have to scan every definition each time. Over and over. And over.

This turns a vocabulary check into a Where’s Waldo puzzle. Except nobody asked for Waldo. Nobody wants Waldo. The kids just want to match the right word to the right definition without feeling like they’ve been dropped into a scavenger hunt.

A better way:
Put the definitions in Column A and the shorter labels in Column B. Their eyes move faster, their brain organizes the task better, and the confusion drops dramatically. It is a small difference that students actually feel.

When Multiple Choice Turns Into a Mini Boss

Tricky distractors do not make students smarter

Some teachers take pride in being the final boss of multiple choice exams. We all know the colleague who says things like, I want to see who really studied. Then they throw in distractors that would stump a philosopher.

This doesn’t measure mastery. It measures who can survive psychological warfare.

Examples of practices to avoid:
• Distractors that are so obviously wrong the question becomes a giveaway
• Distractors that are so close students are forced to guess
• Answers that differ by only one tiny word
• Using All of the above or None of the above as if that adds depth

Students begin to focus on test strategy instead of understanding. They become detectives looking for traps instead of scholars applying knowledge.

Better approach:
Make every distractor a real misconception. Something a student might reasonably think if they misunderstood the concept. That way the question actually diagnoses learning.

Patterned Answer Keys

Believe it or not, students see the pattern

Kids notice everything. You think they don’t see the answer key has had B three times in a row. Oh, they see it. They see it with the intensity of a speedrunner spotting a glitch.

Unintentional patterns make students doubt themselves. They assume something must be wrong because no teacher would put C four times in a row.

No teacher would. Except we all have.

Better approach:
Randomize answers, then check for patterns. A little shuffle goes a long way.

Memory Overload

When recall replaces comprehension

There’s a difference between knowing a word and understanding it. There’s also a difference between assessing a skill and checking who memorized a line from yesterday’s vocabulary list.

Tests that focus too much on straight recall end up rewarding short term memory instead of deep learning.

Examples:
• Asking for dictionary definitions instead of real use
• Matching terms students learned five minutes ago
• Asking students to copy content from the text rather than analyze it

Better approach:
Shift the task from What is it to How does it work or Why does it matter. Students show more thinking and less panic.

The Novel-Length Question

Short stem, happy brain

Picture a multiple choice question that takes up half the page. Students stare at it. Their soul leaves their body for a moment. They stop reading halfway through without realizing they stopped reading.

Long stems are one of the most common ways that assessments accidentally penalize slower readers or multilingual learners.

Better approach:
Keep the scenario short, clear, and essential. If you need a story problem, make it a story that respects the reader’s time.

Word Banks Gone Wild

Too many choices, too much stress

Some teachers add extra words to the word bank because they think it increases rigor. Technically, maybe. Practically, absolutely not.

Extra words increase cognitive load. Students spend more time sorting than solving.

Better approach:
Keep the word bank focused. Challenge through the task, not the clutter.

Negative Questions

The silent test-killers

Which of the following is NOT an example of...

Students miss the word NOT all the time. These questions are landmines. They test reading precision more than content knowledge.

Better approach:
Avoid negative phrasing when possible. If you absolutely must assess the negative concept, use short answer or matching.

Ambiguous Wording

If a student needs to guess what the question is asking, the question is the problem

This is where assessments can unintentionally drift into chaos. Vague verbs. Unclear pronouns. Stems that leave too much room for interpretation.

Better approach:
Tell students exactly what they need to do. Clarity is kindness.

When Images Confuse More Than They Clarify

Use visuals with intention

If the picture needs a picture, the question is doomed.

Better approach:
Make sure every image is clearly labeled or simple enough to interpret. The image should support the answer, not obstruct it.

Hidden Hints

The visual Easter eggs teachers forget to check

Students pick up accidental clues quickly.

Examples:
• The correct answer is the only one that is longer
• The correct answer uses the same word that appears in the question
• One option is noticeably more specific than the others

Better approach:
Proofread like a test taker. Look for giveaways you didn’t intend.

Give Students At Least One Place To Show Their Thinking

Matching, multiple choice, and word banks are fine. But if the entire test relies on them, we’re not measuring understanding. We’re measuring recognition.

A short open-ended question can reveal more than 15 multiple choice items combined. Students need room to show their voice.

Final Thoughts

At the end of the day, a good assessment isn’t meant to be a maze. Its job is to shine a light on what students understand, not trap them in formatting gimmicks.

And trust me, the kids feel the difference. When the test is fair, they relax. When they relax, they perform better. When they perform better, the data becomes something you can actually trust.

This is something I’m exploring deeply as part of my Assessment Redesign project. Because if we want students to level up, we have to design assessments that make sense, not battles that need cheat codes.

Leave a comment

If you want to support my work or my Extra Life fundraiser helping children’s hospitals, here’s the link:
https://www.extra-life.org/index.cfm?fuseaction=donordrive.participant&participantid=549127

See you at the next checkpoint
Prof. Rock

Subscribe now