Negotiating identity and your place in the world is a universal rite of passage that, some might argue, is a life-long journey. Diasporic communities of Indigenous cultures can often present with dissociative qualities: a compartmentalisation of Indigenous memory and custom lived away from or alongside mainstream culture of their context. Reconciliation of context and Indigenous origin often requires extensive interrogation and personal reflection.

 

"As a teacher, one of the core issues I run up against with my students in Indigenous literature and Indigenous studies classes is what Thomas King calls ‘the Dead Indian’ (55): the fallacious notion that Indigenous culture is not authentic if it intersects with the present or the future” (Gaertner, 2014).

 

In America, the ongoing negotiation of two or more intersecting worlds is further complicated by narratives in media and educational curriculums supporting notions of King’s “Dead Indian”: the suggestion that Indigenous culture is only ‘authentically’ observed if it is preserved and presented in a form distilled to an essence of pre-colonial occupation. In practice, such prescription divorces present and living communities from their heritage, a rejection that risks inhibiting or ostracising members from spaces outside colonially-subscribed ‘cultural norms’.

 

However, even the act of disassociation bears new expressions. Cultural identity evolves in contrast and comparison to others, it is always oppositional and incorporative, rejecting some features while indigenizing others (Mageo, 2002).

 

As a response to this struggle reconciling cultural heritage with the present community moving forward, my project considered Mageo’s (2002) further suggestion that myth can be a vehicle for interactive encounters of Indigenous history.

 

Building on the principles of traditional storytelling and discursive methods of Talanoa (Vaioleti, 2006), an interactive mode of play can both explore Samoan myth as an offering of cultural heritage, and interrogate cultural expression through tasks that engender critical thinking. It is posited that the most effective game forms are those combining story narratives and roleplay.

 

I was drawn to serious games as an alternative to novels or other media forms due to the opportunities afforded by the role-playing form: when we create a character, invest in their development, share in their journey of learning and growth through conscious decision, the persona of our avatars become digital augmentation of physis (Cleland, 2010). By inhabiting an augmented skin, we are enabled to encounter unfamiliar experience and playable personas.

 

Indigenous developer Manuel Marcano reinforced the power of interactivity through his experience on game projects such as the Darkness, Bioshock and Treachery in Beatdown City: “Millions of people play video games, and because of the interactivity it becomes an interesting way of allowing people to experience a culture that might seem alien to them. It's much easier to empathize with someone if you know something about them and interactivity can create that bond. With more Natives being in games, and making games we can educate others…. At the very least I hope people will stop asking if I know anything about peace pipes” (Starkey, 2014).

 

While strides are progressing in game development for Maori Indigenous heritage, other Polynesian nations are less vocal within this domain. Academic record of our traditional games is similarly thin (Keesing & Keesing, 1956; Orans & Pouesi, 1987), but none yet exist that celebrate Samoan myth and legend.

 

In a state-of-the-art review by Mortara et al. (2014), it was found that the majority of serious games developed with a pedagogical focus on sharing cultural heritage led their audiences through simulations of a ‘specific historical period, event or process’; adventures or roleplay set within digital reconstructions of real environments of heritage. When it came to genre, serious ‘cultural heritage’ games were significantly under-represented in action, although this remains one of the most popular categories in games developed for entertainment.

 

In contrast to predominant narratives in action adventures games that a focus on power dynamics, conquest and the hoarding of resources, recent cultural heritage have designed pedagogical narratives about survival, healing, sustaining, sharing and community (LaPensée, 2015).

 

How can game designers concerned with cultural heritage produce engaging interactive products for action? How can they do so in a way that honours the Indigenous culture in its design, mechanics and delivers aesthetics of an ‘active’ playful experience while engaging existing members of the gaming community?

 

Recent mainstream successes such as Never Alone and Ehdrigor have offered suggestions of what such an experience can look like on established technological platforms without the need for augmented or mixed realities:

 

"Rather than defining power exclusively in physical terms, Ehdrigohr treats emotional and spiritual strength as an equally important skillset. On top of the standard measurements of physical health, players have mental and social "health bars." So if you’re trying to help someone through their emotional pain and you’re not in a good place yourself, you risk taking on too much and sending your own character spiraling into depression. Community bonds are important as well; if you alienated part of the tribe during the previous session, you'll take social damage—which hinders your ability to maintain relationships—and you'll probably have to sacrifice any traits that relied on those connections” (Starkey, 2015).