Before this class, I didn’t think of myself as much of a “gamer”. I enjoyed the occasional party game or mobile app, but I didn’t consider games to be a big part of my identity or creative interests. I assumed game design required deep knowledge of technical tools or a lifelong passion for gaming, neither of which I thought I had. Coming into the course, I saw games as fun diversions, not necessarily as powerful storytelling tools or mediums for social commentary. I hadn’t realized how much games could reflect identity, culture, and emotion in ways that are just as meaningful as film or literature.
The concept of narrative building was one of the most important class concepts that stuck with me. I used to think that narrative storytelling in games was conveyed mostly through what the characters did and said. This course allowed me to experience how narrative can actually be embedded within mechanics, environments, and even player decisions. Story isn’t just what characters say; it’s what players do, and how the game world responds. This shift in perspective helped me see games as dynamic narrative systems rather than fixed scripts.
I tried to implement world-building in The Game of Stanford by grounding it in authentic student experiences. I wanted our game to feel emotionally resonant and culturally specific, so we drew from real aspects of campus life and embedded them into the structure of the game. Whether it was the narrative squares that reflected quirky Stanford rituals or the milestone that asked players to reflect on their journey, every element was designed to tell a story about what it feels like to be a Stanford student. Rather than creating a purely fictional world, we aimed to make something that felt real and recognizable.
One of the most significant learnings was the importance of playtesting in game development. There were so many points in P1 and P2 where I struggled to think through game mechanics and rules. I experienced how asking for feedback was the best way to overcome these roadblocks. Feedback provided more information than just whether or not players enjoyed the game; it allowed me to see the emotions and thought processes associated with every decision we made. These reactions revealed which parts of the game were intuitive and engaging, and which needed refinement. Seeing players interpret mechanics differently than intended or stumble over unclear rules taught me that design isn’t just about what we think works, but how others actually experience it.
If I continue game development post-graduation, I would love to experiment with developing social game experiences like escape rooms and storytelling games that blend physical and digital elements. I’m especially interested in designing experiences that foster connection, collaboration, and a sense of discovery, bringing people together in meaningful ways. This class helped me see that I don’t need to be a traditional “gamer” to be a game designer. What matters most is an understanding of how to craft experiences that resonate with players emotionally, intellectually, and socially. I now feel more confident in my creative instincts and my ability to use games as a medium for storytelling, identity exploration, and cultural commentary. This course not only taught me the mechanics of game design, but also showed me how games can be a space for empathy, reflection, and joy.
I’d love to see any games you make in the future, your ideas are very powerful and the goals matter. In this age where all the companies seem to want to replace humans, creating human experiences is more important than ever.