What a class full of gamers taught me about course design.

What my students noticed in games

When I listened closely, my students were not talking only about rewards. They liked knowing the goal. They could see their progress. They received a response after every decision. When they failed, the game usually gave them another attempt.

They also noticed difficulty. A game that felt impossible from the first minute was not fun. Neither was one that asked them to repeat an easy task without anything changing. The better games kept adjusting the challenge as players improved.

That conversation made me look at my own materials. Did learners know what they were trying to accomplish? Could they tell whether they were making progress? Did feedback arrive while they could still use it?

When the interface gets out of the way

My students also complained about games with confusing controls. That sounded familiar. A worksheet, slide deck, or online lesson can create the same frustration when learners must figure out how to use it before they can begin the actual task.

A clear game interface tells players what they can do and what happened after they acted. A clear learning interface should do the same. Buttons should behave consistently. Instructions should appear where learners need them. Feedback should connect directly to the decision they made.

This helped me stop treating layout, color, and interaction placement as small finishing details. If those choices make learners pause for the wrong reason, they become part of the learning problem.

Testing the comparison during online teaching

When classes moved online, I had to put these ideas into practice. Tools such as Mentimeter gave me live polls, timed questions, and visible class responses. For the first time, I could test some of the features my students had described.

Timely feedback changed the pace of a session. Students did not need to wait for a graded activity to learn that they had misunderstood a point. A quick check let them correct it while the lesson was still fresh.

Optional practice also helped. Learners who needed another example could review one without holding back the entire class. Learners who were ready could move to a more demanding question.

The tool did not create participation on its own. It worked when the activity had a clear purpose and gave students information they could use. That distinction became important later.

Where I had to slow down

It is easy to add a leaderboard and assume it will motivate everyone. I tried that more than once and received mixed results. Some students became more competitive. Others became quieter once their difficulty was visible to the class.

That taught me to match the mechanic to the need instead of choosing the most exciting feature:

• Use timed questions when speed genuinely forms part of the skill.
• Offer different paths when learners need different levels of support.
• Give immediate feedback when learners can still correct the decision.
• Use competition only when it feels fair and does not expose learners.
• Let learners retry when another attempt supports better performance.

A game element should solve a learning problem. If it only makes the screen busier, it has not earned its place.

What I ask before adding game mechanics to course design

I still think about that Grade 7 classroom when I plan an online lesson or practice activity. I do not ask how to make every course feel like a game. I ask what the learner needs at that moment.

Do they need a clearer goal? A visible sign of progress? Another attempt? Faster feedback? A challenge that rises as they improve? Once I can name the need, I can decide whether a game mechanic will support it.

My students did not only give me a formula for gamification, they also gave me a better set of questions. Those questions still guide the simulations and practice activities in my instructional design and eLearning portfolio.