Before taking 247G, I didn’t play many games. Even growing up, my relationship to games was pretty casual, mostly silly iPad games to pass time or nostalgic titles like Super Mario Bros and Fireboy and Watergirl. I never really saw myself as a “gamer,” and when I thought about game design, I imagined complex, competitive experiences like League or Valorant, games that felt far removed from the kind of play I was familiar with. Because of that, I came into the class feeling hesitant and a bit intimidated. I worried I wasn’t experienced enough with games, or that I didn’t quite “fit” in a space like this.
Those apprehensions, however, quickly faded. Through lectures, critical plays, and playtesting, I started to see just how expansive and expressive games can be. There are so many ways to define fun, and so many different reasons people play. Watching classmates light up while playing everything from social deduction games to meditative narrative adventures helped me reframe what games could offer and who they could be for.
247G was one of the few classes where I felt genuinely engrossed in the work I was creating. I found myself thinking about my projects constantly, wanting to build and refine whenever I had the chance. Concepts like MDA and the eight aesthetics gave me the language to articulate what I wanted players to feel beyond just “fun.” I became more intentional, building not just for challenge, but for fellowship, discovery, and narrative. Watching these ideas take shape and grow into something that could actually move people was the kind of creative fulfillment that I was really yearning for.
A big takeaway from this class was also the idea of narrative architecture. I had never considered that stories could live within the mechanics themselves, not just through text or cutscenes. This class pushed me to think about how player motivation and elements like sound, visuals, and space could build emotional resonance. Those lessons came to life in our final project, The Last Acorn, where we designed the game so that every glide and climb of our squirrel protagonist reflected the quiet resilience we hoped our players would feel.
That experience also challenged me to rethink my instincts as a designer. Coming from a UX background, I was used to designing for clarity and efficiency. Figuring out how to remove friction was a natural tendency. In games, however, friction can be intentional and ambiguity can be a mechanic. Rather than guiding the player through the game too directly, I learned to design for curiosity and experiences that aren’t always “efficient,” but are meaningful, stretching my perspective and strengthening my confidence in designing for a variety of experiences.
If I continue working on games, I would want to keep exploring how small mechanics can carry big meaning. I’m especially drawn to games that feel personal and reflective, and I want to craft moments that resonate and stay with people long after they’re finished with the game. I’m incredibly grateful to have ended my time at Stanford with 247G. This class gave me not only a new design toolkit, but a fresh lens for approaching creative work, and I’ll be sure to carry this experience, and the joy I found in it, with me wherever I go.
“Coming from a UX background, I was used to designing for clarity and efficiency. Figuring out how to remove friction was a natural tendency. In games, however, friction can be intentional and ambiguity can be a mechanic. Rather than guiding the player through the game too directly, I learned to design for curiosity and experiences that aren’t always “efficient,” but are meaningful, stretching my perspective and strengthening my confidence in designing for a variety of experiences.”
I hope this stays in your design toolkit, even if you never design another traditional game… keep thinking playfully!