Making Space to Play
Making Space to Play
Game studies researchers think there is a lot to learn from teaching migrants about videogames
FEATURE STORY
For Mia Consalvo, the path into game research began with wanting to understand more about the people who play them. 鈥淚 first started researching players and game culture,鈥 she says, recalling the early work that put her on the path to becoming a professor and Canada Research Chair In Game Studies and Design at Concordia University. 鈥淢y very first project was looking at people who cheat in games and how and why that happens, and how that plays a part in gameplay.鈥
Over time, that focus expanded. As the tools for making games became more accessible, what once required deep technical expertise began to open up to a wider range of creators. This made it possible for Consalvo to move from studying games to actually building them. 鈥淭ools like Twine or Ren鈥橮y or Bitsy made it possible to experiment,鈥 she explains. 鈥淚 started playing around a little bit and making games on my own, then teaching a class on using games for research creation.鈥 That shift from observing player culture to participating in game creation laid the groundwork for a different kind of research practice, one that often blends creativity, experimentation, and critical inquiry.
It also set the stage for a project that would connect game development to questions of migration and belonging. In a city like Montreal, where the gaming industry is both prominent and deeply networked, the opportunity was a perfect fit. 鈥淢ontreal is this huge centre for the game industry,鈥 Consalvo says. 鈥淪o when I saw in Bridging Divides the opening for more research on immigrants who are new to the area, I thought about the opportunities in games for newcomers. It felt like an interesting thing to try, combining those two worlds.鈥
A permanent buff to inclusive design
What was not new, however, was Consalvo鈥檚 relationship with the local non-profit GAMERella, and its longstanding model of making game development more accessible by rethinking who gets to participate in game jams and how. Originally focused on supporting women entering the field, the game jams offered by GAMERella have since broadened their scope to include a wider range of underrepresented groups, always guided by the same principle: lower the barriers, and more people will see themselves as creators.
For Courtney Blamey, co-director of GAMERella, that work begins with challenging what a game jam is supposed to look like. 鈥淭raditionally, a game jam is a kind of marathon,鈥 she explains, where participants work intensively over a short period to produce a game. But that model, she notes, often mirrors the industry鈥檚 own 鈥渃runch鈥 culture, where long hours and constant output are normalized. 鈥淚t romanticizes this idea that you can just stay there, keep working, eat pizza, and not leave,鈥 she says. GAMERella deliberately takes a different approach. 鈥淲e send people home. We make sure people rest. We put safeguards in place so people aren鈥檛 burning out.鈥
鈥淒uring the breaks, there was a lot more of everyone coming together and talking than what we normally see. That kind of connection was really lovely.鈥
That shift in structure reshapes the experience itself. Rather than focusing on output alone, the emphasis moves toward learning, connection, and sustainability. 鈥淚t was less about making the games and more about learning, but also connecting with each other,鈥 Blamey says, reflecting on the Bridging Divides game jam she helped design and run at Concordia University. In addition to collaborating on projects, participants 鈥 who were all newcomers 鈥 took the time to share experiences, compare pathways into the industry (and the country), and bond over the challenges of navigating life in Canada as an immigrant. 鈥淒uring the breaks, there was a lot more of everyone coming together and talking than what we normally see,鈥 she adds. 鈥淭hat kind of connection was really lovely.鈥
On February 7-8, 2026 the weekend-long Bridging Divides Game Jam was hosted at the Technoculture, Art and Games (TAG) Research Centre at Concordia University, in Montreal. Image credit: Concordia University.
Your quest-giver told you to have fun
Game developer, mentor, and keynote speaker at the event, Sarah Raine is no stranger to the game jams Blamey described. She is used to environments shaped by competition, where tight timelines and industry visibility create a sense of pressure. 鈥淵ou can feel the tension in the air,鈥 she says. 鈥淭here are prizes, judges from companies, and you鈥檙e wondering, am I going to get scouted or something? And that is fun, but it can be a lot of pressure.鈥
This event, by contrast, was deliberately structured to shift the focus on learning. 鈥淲e made it very clear from the beginning that even if they didn't come out of this with a fully functional project, that鈥檚 fine,鈥 she explains. 鈥淲hat matters is that they came and tried things and experimented.鈥 That shift in expectations allowed participants to approach the work differently, focusing less on outcomes and more on process.
"I call it the ELF framework. It stands for Experiment, Learn, and Have Fun. That, to me, is the recipe to a good game jam"
To capture that mindset, Raine introduced a simple framework during her keynote: ELF. 鈥淚t stands for Experiment, Learn, and Have Fun. That, to me, is the recipe to a good game jam,鈥 she says, reflecting on her own experiences of projects that may not have been successful in a conventional sense, but still provided valuable learning. 鈥淥ne thing that鈥檚 consistent is that I always came out of it learning something I could use in a future project.鈥
That emphasis on learning proved especially important given the backgrounds of the participants. Many arrived with strong skills in adjacent areas, like software development or design, but little experience with game engines or interactive systems. 鈥淚t was their first time using Unity,鈥 Sarah recalls of one team she supported. 鈥淏ut they all came in with great ideas, and that was fun.鈥 Her role, as she describes it, was not to direct them toward a finished product, but to guide them through the process of scaling their ambitions and building step by step. 鈥淪tart with the minimum thing you can do, and then build from there.鈥
By the end of the jam, the results spoke for themselves. Participants had indeed produced playable prototypes, while also gaining confidence in their ability to create. 鈥淭hey came out of it having learned a lot, having made friends, and having something they can put on their portfolio,鈥 she says. 鈥淚 think that鈥檚 a great first step.鈥
Participants produced playable prototypes during the event. Image credit: Roxane Huang, Gaby Dumont, Patrick Asamoah Adjei, and Yusif Abubakar
Farm your resources, gather your party
The research team was struck by the level of technical skill participants brought with them. 鈥淢ost, if not all, of our participants came in with really strong coding or design skills,鈥 says Beck de Heuvel, graduate student and project manager for the event. 鈥淪ome were full stack developers or web developers, but they had never worked on a game before. It really felt like a reskilling event.鈥 To the ear of a migration researcher, the idea that newcomers are often overqualified relative to the jobs they hold (or are applying to) in Canada is not surprising. What is interesting, however, is how even in a less studied industry, immigrants were translating their existing expertise into a new context, using the game jam as a way to expand their professional possibilities.
At the same time, the conversations that emerged during the event reflected broader shifts and uncertainties within the industry itself. One theme surfaced repeatedly: the growing role of artificial intelligence. 鈥淧articipants talked about how AI is affecting their work environments, and the industry,鈥 de Heuvel explains. 鈥淪ome saw it as something that鈥檚 making their jobs more precarious, while others were using it as a tool to learn or to become more efficient.鈥 This dual perspective of AI as both threat and resource truly underscored the complexity of entering a field that is itself in flux.
鈥淧articipants talked about how AI is affecting their work environments, and the industry. Some saw it as something that鈥檚 making their jobs more precarious, while others were using it as a tool to learn or to become more efficient.鈥
Consalvo identifies these concerns as part of an existing pattern. 鈥淭he industry itself is very cyclical,鈥 she notes, describing how studios expand rapidly during production phases and then contract once projects are completed. 鈥淓mployment isn鈥檛 always stable,鈥 she adds, pointing to recent layoffs and the lingering effects of pandemic-era growth followed by market correction. For newcomers, these structural dynamics can make entry even more challenging, particularly when combined with barriers such as limited networks or a lack of familiarity with local hiring practices.
鈥淲ho you know matters,鈥 de Heuvel emphasizes, pointing to the informal communities that shape access to opportunities. In Montreal, these networks take many forms, from organized meetups to ad hoc gatherings of developers sharing knowledge and resources. 鈥淭here are community spaces where people connect, look for jobs, and learn from each other,鈥 she says. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 a big part of how the industry works.鈥
Leveling the playing field
In this context, initiatives like the Bridging Divides game jam are essential to creating entry points into the broader ecosystem. By bringing together participants, mentors, and industry professionals, the event offered a first step into the networks that often shape career pathways in game development. Blamey believes that pathway does not need to begin with landing a job. 鈥淚f folks walk away having learned something and produced something 鈥 even if it鈥檚 just a proof of concept or a small mechanic working well 鈥 that鈥檚 a success,鈥 she says. 鈥淚t鈥檚 more than they had when they walked in.鈥
For Raine, who is herself a first generation Canadian, having moved to Quebec from Morocco with her family at the age of five, that sense of community was one of the most meaningful outcomes of the experience. 鈥淭here was a wider range of ages and backgrounds than I usually see,鈥 she reflects, noting the presence of participants coming from different fields and levels of experience. 鈥淚t was very community-oriented.鈥
That diversity also shaped the kinds of conversations that unfolded, creating space for perspectives that are not always visible in more traditional industry settings. 鈥淭here was more sensitivity around social issues than I would expect,鈥 she adds, recalling how discussions about representation and inclusion emerged organically throughout the event.
"It was nice to do a research project that had a genuine human element to it. Something that involved community and actually made a difference for people."
The project stood out because of the way it bridged research and lived experience. 鈥淚t was nice to do a research project that had a genuine human element to it,鈥 de Heuvel says. 鈥淪omething that involved community and actually made a difference for people.鈥 That impact, however, is not always easy to measure. Recruiting participants, for example, proved more difficult than expected, highlighting the challenges of reaching communities without established relationships. 鈥淪tarting from scratch, people don鈥檛 necessarily know who you are or why you鈥檙e doing this,鈥 Consalvo reflects, pointing to the importance of trust and long-term engagement.
And yet, the response from those who did participate was overwhelmingly positive. 鈥淚f we were to repeat this event, everyone said they would come back,鈥 de Heuvel says. Participants left with tangible outputs, many with a playable game and a portfolio piece, as well as a new set of skills and a clearer sense of possibility.
In many ways, the game jam offered a reminder that the video game industry is not just defined by competition, instability, and rapid change. At its core, it鈥檚 a space shaped by creativity, experimentation, and a deep sense of belonging: by the stories people want to tell, the worlds they want to build, and the reasons they are drawn to games in the first place. Creating space for more people to enter the field means expanding who gets to imagine, shape, and ultimately be part of those stories.
Choose Your Character
To ensure the Game Jam success, a team of passionate researchers and industry professionals provided operational and educational support before and during the event. Artist and Game Jam mentor Alissia Bocarro produced a series of portraits to introduce the 鈥渃haracters鈥 behind the project.
From the top-left corner: Nyx Galipeau, Mentor, Creative Director at Lucid Tales; Sarah Raine, Keynote Speaker and Mentor, Independent Game Developer; Alissia "Allie" Bocarro, Mentor, Independent Artist; Meg Hutchison, Mentor, Narrative Designer at Motive Studios; Beck de Heuvel, Project Coordinator, PhD Student at Concordia University; Mia Consalvo, Primary Investigator, Professor at Concordia University; Hanine El Mir, Mentor, PhD Student at Concordia University; Courtney Blamey, Mentor, GAMERella Co-Director; Arielle Wong, Mentor, Independent Game Developer.
Artist: Alissia Bocarro