Questões de Concurso Público Prefeitura de Altos - PI 2026 para Professor Língua Inglesa
Foram encontradas 50 questões
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279236
Inglês
Texto associado
The Hidden History of Women Game Designers
Educational games were all the rage in the early
ninteenth century. As the narrator of Sir Walter Scott's
1814 novel, Waverley, observed, "the history of England
is now reduced to a game at cards, the problems of
mathematics to puzzles and riddles." This bemusement
reflects the burgeoning industry of instructional card,
dice, and board games that sprang up in the late 1700s,
partly in response to changing attitudes towards juvenile
education outlined early on by the philosopher John
Locke a century before.
Women at the time were, of course, generally barred
from attending college and generally discouraged from
the pursuit of learning beyond acquiring the skills of a
governess. Yet the wave of enthusiasm for educational
games nevertheless created an opportunity for some
enterprising
women—despite significant structural
obstacles—to find an intellectual and creative outlet.
Standout figures in the history of game design include
Margaret Bryan, who directed a girl's school in
Blackheath in southeastern London. A writer on science
with a particular interest in astronomy, Bryan produced
the boardgame Science in Sport, or the Pleasures of
Astronomy in collaboration with the well-known game
publisher John Wallis.
This game, a variation on the staple of the Game of the
Goose (akin to Chutes and Ladders), requires players to
spin a teetotum and race their pieces along the board.
Most of the squares illustrate scientific phenomena,
explained in an accompanying rule booklet, but some
depict bad behavior, such as square six, which features
"The County Gaol...for those who attend to the motion of
Billiard Balls, more than to the motion of the Planets,"
and square twelve, which features "a blockhead." Landing on these meant losing a turn or worse, a player's
place on the board.
Learning the rules of music theory by rote could seem
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself to
gamification.
Other pioneering game designers include children's
author Alicia Catherine Mant, who also published an
astronomy-themed board game, while the ludic
inventions of the poet and schoolteacher Elizabeth
Rowse encompassed A Grammatical Game, in Rhyme,
by a Lady (1802) and Mythological Amusement (1804).
Perhaps the most creative arena for female game
designers, however, was music, and more specifically,
music theory. Among the middle and upper classes,
music was generally seen as a female accomplishment,
and teaching its rudiments to children was typically left to mothers, governesses, or schoolmistresses. Learning the
rules of music theory by rote could seem difficult and
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself
remarkably well to gamification.
The nineteenth century's best-known musical game
designer was the Edinburgh-based pianist and music
teacher Anne Young. In 1801, she received a royal
patent for a set of games intended to "render familiar and
impress upon the memory, the fundamental principles of
the science of music." The first British patent ever
granted for a game, it was also the only one awarded that
year to a female inventor, as David Ghere and Fred
Amram have discovered. Two years after the launch of
the Musical Games, Young, now the respectably married
Mrs.
Gunn, published a two-hundred-fifty page
companion treatise entitled An Introduction to Music,
which explained music theory fundamentals via
instructions for playing her Musical Games. The treatise
is organized as seven sections, each corresponding to a
different set of games, and includes a number of optional
variations, outlining twenty-two different games in total.
A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in
libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're
luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany, while
most of the nearly two hundred parts in each
game—pins, dice, plates, and counters—were carved out
of ivory and ebony. Priced originally at seven guineas,
which was more than the annual wages of a laborer at
the time, this game set would have been affordable only
for the very wealthy.
Unlike earlier musical dice games, which were designed
to encourage composition, Musical Games aimed to
teach the rudiments of theory. Some of the games that
can be played on the set involve racing, with players
competing to move their pieces up and down various
configurations on the board. Others involve the
acquisition of points for correct answers, tallied with
delicate ivory counters. A child following the treatise's
progression of games would engage many of the
fundamentals of music theory, ranging from notation
through more advanced topics in harmony including
chord resolution and modulation.
Young's invention haunted musical journals throughout
the nineteenth century, resurfacing from time to time in
newspaper queries, sometimes from readers intrigued by
the warm endorsement it got from her husband John
Gunn, a distinguished Scottish music pedagogue who
wroteinstructional treatises. (In his writings, Gunn
protested "without having ever previously heard the name
of the ingenious and scientific Inventor, I was struck with
the merits of these Games.") Interestingly, the Musical
Games reappear nearly a century later in the essay
"Games of Music," published in 1907 in the
London-based magazine The Musical Times by Bertha
Harrison, who was very likely the anti-suffrage activist
also known as Ethel Bertha Harrison. Harrison was
interested in music history—her earlier writings in The
Musical Times had treated topics such as child prodigies
and historic concert venues—but it was only in her essay on musical games that she revealed her political
leanings.
In
what may be one of the earliest pieces of
ludomusicology, the study of music and games,
Harrison's essay surveys the role of musical games from
the eighteenth century to her present day. Although she
ostensibly examines musical games in general, most of
her article is dedicated to Young, whom she
characterizes as a woman "possessed of an uncommon
order of mind." Harrison describes Young's games as "so
clever and ingenious, so full of nice detail, that all the
music games of the present day seem poor in design and
clumsy in execution in comparison with it."
However, the crux of Harrison's argument appears in a
subsequent paragraph, where she struggles to put a
positive spin on the striking disparity in the quality of
games designed by women and men, writing that "is a
curious and interesting fact that, among musical games,
those invented by women are very complicated and
extraordinarily full of detail, while those invented by men
are, with very rare exceptions, quite simple and generally
adaptations from other games. From this we may draw
one of two conclusions: either that in this particular line
woman has more originality than man, or that when she
begins to invent, her mind becomes so engrossed with
details as to lose sight of the main issue, and, in the
words of the proverb, she cannot see the wood for the
trees."
Conceding that women might be intrinsically better at
musical game design, Harrison immediately undercuts
this notion with the claim that women are overly
concerned with details, and that is why their games tend
to be more complex. The stereotype of the detail-oriented
woman, as exemplified in this example, is a trope that, as
Naomi Schor reminds us, has informed and limited
understandings of female ability for centuries.
Harrison's critique notwithstanding, the nineteenth
century saw many impressive music educational games
invented by women. The 1851 Great Exhibition in London
featured Gioco di Euterpe, (a game whose name invokes
the Greek goddess of music) designed by Abelinde
Prince and "intended to assist beginners in the
knowledge of the relative value of musical characters,
and to render them good timeists." The editor of The
Girl's Own Book (1869) described a game developed by
an anonymous female friend, entitled "Sir Samuel
Semibreve," which taught sight-singing and could be
ordered from a music shop in Middlesex.
Across the Atlantic, Abbie T. Hays, principal of a music
school in Wichita, Kansas, filed a patent in 1895 for a
"musical game device" designed to teach notation with
pictures depicting the words spelled out by note-names
(think B-A-G or B-E-E). Later that year, Sarah W.
Featherstone, a schoolteacher in Toledo, Ohio, filed a
patent for Nota Bene, which used a spinning wheel to
teach children rhythm. And in 1897, the enterpreneurial
Evelyn Fletcher of Toronto filed both Canadian and US
patents for a Music Block Game. Her "Fletcher Music
Method" would later be endorsed by luminaries such as John Philip Sousa and Hugo Riemann, and it was highly
popular with schoolteachers. This is just a small selection
of the names and devices that pop out of the archive.
In my experience searching historical patent records, one
is more likely to come across games designed by women
than by men. Bertha Harrison seems to have gotten that
right, at least!
Today, using gamification to teach music seems like a
no-brainer. Indeed, many music videogames have
become wildly popular—think instrument-based rhythm
games like Guitar Hero. While these games generally
teach synchronization, there are also plenty of music
theory games available to try online, such as ToneGym,
Solfege Story, or Chet — Ear Training. Although these
modern creations would have been unthinkable a
hundred years ago, these games are still part of an
unusual—and unusually female—tradition.
https://daily.jstor.org/the-hidden-history-of-women-game-designers/
During the editorial revision of the article, a proofreader
identifies the phrase "the early ninteenth century." The
intended adjective refers to the century following the
eighteenth and preceding the twentieth. Mark the
alternative that presents the CORRECT spelling of the
word.
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279237
Inglês
Texto associado
The Hidden History of Women Game Designers
Educational games were all the rage in the early
ninteenth century. As the narrator of Sir Walter Scott's
1814 novel, Waverley, observed, "the history of England
is now reduced to a game at cards, the problems of
mathematics to puzzles and riddles." This bemusement
reflects the burgeoning industry of instructional card,
dice, and board games that sprang up in the late 1700s,
partly in response to changing attitudes towards juvenile
education outlined early on by the philosopher John
Locke a century before.
Women at the time were, of course, generally barred
from attending college and generally discouraged from
the pursuit of learning beyond acquiring the skills of a
governess. Yet the wave of enthusiasm for educational
games nevertheless created an opportunity for some
enterprising
women—despite significant structural
obstacles—to find an intellectual and creative outlet.
Standout figures in the history of game design include
Margaret Bryan, who directed a girl's school in
Blackheath in southeastern London. A writer on science
with a particular interest in astronomy, Bryan produced
the boardgame Science in Sport, or the Pleasures of
Astronomy in collaboration with the well-known game
publisher John Wallis.
This game, a variation on the staple of the Game of the
Goose (akin to Chutes and Ladders), requires players to
spin a teetotum and race their pieces along the board.
Most of the squares illustrate scientific phenomena,
explained in an accompanying rule booklet, but some
depict bad behavior, such as square six, which features
"The County Gaol...for those who attend to the motion of
Billiard Balls, more than to the motion of the Planets,"
and square twelve, which features "a blockhead." Landing on these meant losing a turn or worse, a player's
place on the board.
Learning the rules of music theory by rote could seem
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself to
gamification.
Other pioneering game designers include children's
author Alicia Catherine Mant, who also published an
astronomy-themed board game, while the ludic
inventions of the poet and schoolteacher Elizabeth
Rowse encompassed A Grammatical Game, in Rhyme,
by a Lady (1802) and Mythological Amusement (1804).
Perhaps the most creative arena for female game
designers, however, was music, and more specifically,
music theory. Among the middle and upper classes,
music was generally seen as a female accomplishment,
and teaching its rudiments to children was typically left to mothers, governesses, or schoolmistresses. Learning the
rules of music theory by rote could seem difficult and
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself
remarkably well to gamification.
The nineteenth century's best-known musical game
designer was the Edinburgh-based pianist and music
teacher Anne Young. In 1801, she received a royal
patent for a set of games intended to "render familiar and
impress upon the memory, the fundamental principles of
the science of music." The first British patent ever
granted for a game, it was also the only one awarded that
year to a female inventor, as David Ghere and Fred
Amram have discovered. Two years after the launch of
the Musical Games, Young, now the respectably married
Mrs.
Gunn, published a two-hundred-fifty page
companion treatise entitled An Introduction to Music,
which explained music theory fundamentals via
instructions for playing her Musical Games. The treatise
is organized as seven sections, each corresponding to a
different set of games, and includes a number of optional
variations, outlining twenty-two different games in total.
A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in
libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're
luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany, while
most of the nearly two hundred parts in each
game—pins, dice, plates, and counters—were carved out
of ivory and ebony. Priced originally at seven guineas,
which was more than the annual wages of a laborer at
the time, this game set would have been affordable only
for the very wealthy.
Unlike earlier musical dice games, which were designed
to encourage composition, Musical Games aimed to
teach the rudiments of theory. Some of the games that
can be played on the set involve racing, with players
competing to move their pieces up and down various
configurations on the board. Others involve the
acquisition of points for correct answers, tallied with
delicate ivory counters. A child following the treatise's
progression of games would engage many of the
fundamentals of music theory, ranging from notation
through more advanced topics in harmony including
chord resolution and modulation.
Young's invention haunted musical journals throughout
the nineteenth century, resurfacing from time to time in
newspaper queries, sometimes from readers intrigued by
the warm endorsement it got from her husband John
Gunn, a distinguished Scottish music pedagogue who
wroteinstructional treatises. (In his writings, Gunn
protested "without having ever previously heard the name
of the ingenious and scientific Inventor, I was struck with
the merits of these Games.") Interestingly, the Musical
Games reappear nearly a century later in the essay
"Games of Music," published in 1907 in the
London-based magazine The Musical Times by Bertha
Harrison, who was very likely the anti-suffrage activist
also known as Ethel Bertha Harrison. Harrison was
interested in music history—her earlier writings in The
Musical Times had treated topics such as child prodigies
and historic concert venues—but it was only in her essay on musical games that she revealed her political
leanings.
In
what may be one of the earliest pieces of
ludomusicology, the study of music and games,
Harrison's essay surveys the role of musical games from
the eighteenth century to her present day. Although she
ostensibly examines musical games in general, most of
her article is dedicated to Young, whom she
characterizes as a woman "possessed of an uncommon
order of mind." Harrison describes Young's games as "so
clever and ingenious, so full of nice detail, that all the
music games of the present day seem poor in design and
clumsy in execution in comparison with it."
However, the crux of Harrison's argument appears in a
subsequent paragraph, where she struggles to put a
positive spin on the striking disparity in the quality of
games designed by women and men, writing that "is a
curious and interesting fact that, among musical games,
those invented by women are very complicated and
extraordinarily full of detail, while those invented by men
are, with very rare exceptions, quite simple and generally
adaptations from other games. From this we may draw
one of two conclusions: either that in this particular line
woman has more originality than man, or that when she
begins to invent, her mind becomes so engrossed with
details as to lose sight of the main issue, and, in the
words of the proverb, she cannot see the wood for the
trees."
Conceding that women might be intrinsically better at
musical game design, Harrison immediately undercuts
this notion with the claim that women are overly
concerned with details, and that is why their games tend
to be more complex. The stereotype of the detail-oriented
woman, as exemplified in this example, is a trope that, as
Naomi Schor reminds us, has informed and limited
understandings of female ability for centuries.
Harrison's critique notwithstanding, the nineteenth
century saw many impressive music educational games
invented by women. The 1851 Great Exhibition in London
featured Gioco di Euterpe, (a game whose name invokes
the Greek goddess of music) designed by Abelinde
Prince and "intended to assist beginners in the
knowledge of the relative value of musical characters,
and to render them good timeists." The editor of The
Girl's Own Book (1869) described a game developed by
an anonymous female friend, entitled "Sir Samuel
Semibreve," which taught sight-singing and could be
ordered from a music shop in Middlesex.
Across the Atlantic, Abbie T. Hays, principal of a music
school in Wichita, Kansas, filed a patent in 1895 for a
"musical game device" designed to teach notation with
pictures depicting the words spelled out by note-names
(think B-A-G or B-E-E). Later that year, Sarah W.
Featherstone, a schoolteacher in Toledo, Ohio, filed a
patent for Nota Bene, which used a spinning wheel to
teach children rhythm. And in 1897, the enterpreneurial
Evelyn Fletcher of Toronto filed both Canadian and US
patents for a Music Block Game. Her "Fletcher Music
Method" would later be endorsed by luminaries such as John Philip Sousa and Hugo Riemann, and it was highly
popular with schoolteachers. This is just a small selection
of the names and devices that pop out of the archive.
In my experience searching historical patent records, one
is more likely to come across games designed by women
than by men. Bertha Harrison seems to have gotten that
right, at least!
Today, using gamification to teach music seems like a
no-brainer. Indeed, many music videogames have
become wildly popular—think instrument-based rhythm
games like Guitar Hero. While these games generally
teach synchronization, there are also plenty of music
theory games available to try online, such as ToneGym,
Solfege Story, or Chet — Ear Training. Although these
modern creations would have been unthinkable a
hundred years ago, these games are still part of an
unusual—and unusually female—tradition.
https://daily.jstor.org/the-hidden-history-of-women-game-designers/
The article combines historical narration, present-day
commentary, and projections about how past inventions
relate to contemporary practices. Considering the tense
and temporal functions of the verb forms used in the text,
mark each statement as true (T) or false (F).
( ) In "Educational games were all the rage," the simple past situates a completed historical condition in the early nineteenth century.
( ) In "A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found," the simple present indicates a situation that remains valid at the time of writing.
( ) In "Her Fletcher Music Method would later be endorsed," the construction "would + verb" expresses a future event viewed from a past reference point.
( ) In "Many music videogames have become wildly popular," the present perfect presents a past development connected with the present.
Mark the alternative that presents the CORRECT sequence.
( ) In "Educational games were all the rage," the simple past situates a completed historical condition in the early nineteenth century.
( ) In "A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found," the simple present indicates a situation that remains valid at the time of writing.
( ) In "Her Fletcher Music Method would later be endorsed," the construction "would + verb" expresses a future event viewed from a past reference point.
( ) In "Many music videogames have become wildly popular," the present perfect presents a past development connected with the present.
Mark the alternative that presents the CORRECT sequence.
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279238
Inglês
Texto associado
The Hidden History of Women Game Designers
Educational games were all the rage in the early
ninteenth century. As the narrator of Sir Walter Scott's
1814 novel, Waverley, observed, "the history of England
is now reduced to a game at cards, the problems of
mathematics to puzzles and riddles." This bemusement
reflects the burgeoning industry of instructional card,
dice, and board games that sprang up in the late 1700s,
partly in response to changing attitudes towards juvenile
education outlined early on by the philosopher John
Locke a century before.
Women at the time were, of course, generally barred
from attending college and generally discouraged from
the pursuit of learning beyond acquiring the skills of a
governess. Yet the wave of enthusiasm for educational
games nevertheless created an opportunity for some
enterprising
women—despite significant structural
obstacles—to find an intellectual and creative outlet.
Standout figures in the history of game design include
Margaret Bryan, who directed a girl's school in
Blackheath in southeastern London. A writer on science
with a particular interest in astronomy, Bryan produced
the boardgame Science in Sport, or the Pleasures of
Astronomy in collaboration with the well-known game
publisher John Wallis.
This game, a variation on the staple of the Game of the
Goose (akin to Chutes and Ladders), requires players to
spin a teetotum and race their pieces along the board.
Most of the squares illustrate scientific phenomena,
explained in an accompanying rule booklet, but some
depict bad behavior, such as square six, which features
"The County Gaol...for those who attend to the motion of
Billiard Balls, more than to the motion of the Planets,"
and square twelve, which features "a blockhead." Landing on these meant losing a turn or worse, a player's
place on the board.
Learning the rules of music theory by rote could seem
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself to
gamification.
Other pioneering game designers include children's
author Alicia Catherine Mant, who also published an
astronomy-themed board game, while the ludic
inventions of the poet and schoolteacher Elizabeth
Rowse encompassed A Grammatical Game, in Rhyme,
by a Lady (1802) and Mythological Amusement (1804).
Perhaps the most creative arena for female game
designers, however, was music, and more specifically,
music theory. Among the middle and upper classes,
music was generally seen as a female accomplishment,
and teaching its rudiments to children was typically left to mothers, governesses, or schoolmistresses. Learning the
rules of music theory by rote could seem difficult and
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself
remarkably well to gamification.
The nineteenth century's best-known musical game
designer was the Edinburgh-based pianist and music
teacher Anne Young. In 1801, she received a royal
patent for a set of games intended to "render familiar and
impress upon the memory, the fundamental principles of
the science of music." The first British patent ever
granted for a game, it was also the only one awarded that
year to a female inventor, as David Ghere and Fred
Amram have discovered. Two years after the launch of
the Musical Games, Young, now the respectably married
Mrs.
Gunn, published a two-hundred-fifty page
companion treatise entitled An Introduction to Music,
which explained music theory fundamentals via
instructions for playing her Musical Games. The treatise
is organized as seven sections, each corresponding to a
different set of games, and includes a number of optional
variations, outlining twenty-two different games in total.
A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in
libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're
luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany, while
most of the nearly two hundred parts in each
game—pins, dice, plates, and counters—were carved out
of ivory and ebony. Priced originally at seven guineas,
which was more than the annual wages of a laborer at
the time, this game set would have been affordable only
for the very wealthy.
Unlike earlier musical dice games, which were designed
to encourage composition, Musical Games aimed to
teach the rudiments of theory. Some of the games that
can be played on the set involve racing, with players
competing to move their pieces up and down various
configurations on the board. Others involve the
acquisition of points for correct answers, tallied with
delicate ivory counters. A child following the treatise's
progression of games would engage many of the
fundamentals of music theory, ranging from notation
through more advanced topics in harmony including
chord resolution and modulation.
Young's invention haunted musical journals throughout
the nineteenth century, resurfacing from time to time in
newspaper queries, sometimes from readers intrigued by
the warm endorsement it got from her husband John
Gunn, a distinguished Scottish music pedagogue who
wroteinstructional treatises. (In his writings, Gunn
protested "without having ever previously heard the name
of the ingenious and scientific Inventor, I was struck with
the merits of these Games.") Interestingly, the Musical
Games reappear nearly a century later in the essay
"Games of Music," published in 1907 in the
London-based magazine The Musical Times by Bertha
Harrison, who was very likely the anti-suffrage activist
also known as Ethel Bertha Harrison. Harrison was
interested in music history—her earlier writings in The
Musical Times had treated topics such as child prodigies
and historic concert venues—but it was only in her essay on musical games that she revealed her political
leanings.
In
what may be one of the earliest pieces of
ludomusicology, the study of music and games,
Harrison's essay surveys the role of musical games from
the eighteenth century to her present day. Although she
ostensibly examines musical games in general, most of
her article is dedicated to Young, whom she
characterizes as a woman "possessed of an uncommon
order of mind." Harrison describes Young's games as "so
clever and ingenious, so full of nice detail, that all the
music games of the present day seem poor in design and
clumsy in execution in comparison with it."
However, the crux of Harrison's argument appears in a
subsequent paragraph, where she struggles to put a
positive spin on the striking disparity in the quality of
games designed by women and men, writing that "is a
curious and interesting fact that, among musical games,
those invented by women are very complicated and
extraordinarily full of detail, while those invented by men
are, with very rare exceptions, quite simple and generally
adaptations from other games. From this we may draw
one of two conclusions: either that in this particular line
woman has more originality than man, or that when she
begins to invent, her mind becomes so engrossed with
details as to lose sight of the main issue, and, in the
words of the proverb, she cannot see the wood for the
trees."
Conceding that women might be intrinsically better at
musical game design, Harrison immediately undercuts
this notion with the claim that women are overly
concerned with details, and that is why their games tend
to be more complex. The stereotype of the detail-oriented
woman, as exemplified in this example, is a trope that, as
Naomi Schor reminds us, has informed and limited
understandings of female ability for centuries.
Harrison's critique notwithstanding, the nineteenth
century saw many impressive music educational games
invented by women. The 1851 Great Exhibition in London
featured Gioco di Euterpe, (a game whose name invokes
the Greek goddess of music) designed by Abelinde
Prince and "intended to assist beginners in the
knowledge of the relative value of musical characters,
and to render them good timeists." The editor of The
Girl's Own Book (1869) described a game developed by
an anonymous female friend, entitled "Sir Samuel
Semibreve," which taught sight-singing and could be
ordered from a music shop in Middlesex.
Across the Atlantic, Abbie T. Hays, principal of a music
school in Wichita, Kansas, filed a patent in 1895 for a
"musical game device" designed to teach notation with
pictures depicting the words spelled out by note-names
(think B-A-G or B-E-E). Later that year, Sarah W.
Featherstone, a schoolteacher in Toledo, Ohio, filed a
patent for Nota Bene, which used a spinning wheel to
teach children rhythm. And in 1897, the enterpreneurial
Evelyn Fletcher of Toronto filed both Canadian and US
patents for a Music Block Game. Her "Fletcher Music
Method" would later be endorsed by luminaries such as John Philip Sousa and Hugo Riemann, and it was highly
popular with schoolteachers. This is just a small selection
of the names and devices that pop out of the archive.
In my experience searching historical patent records, one
is more likely to come across games designed by women
than by men. Bertha Harrison seems to have gotten that
right, at least!
Today, using gamification to teach music seems like a
no-brainer. Indeed, many music videogames have
become wildly popular—think instrument-based rhythm
games like Guitar Hero. While these games generally
teach synchronization, there are also plenty of music
theory games available to try online, such as ToneGym,
Solfege Story, or Chet — Ear Training. Although these
modern creations would have been unthinkable a
hundred years ago, these games are still part of an
unusual—and unusually female—tradition.
https://daily.jstor.org/the-hidden-history-of-women-game-designers/
The author first acknowledges the sophistication of
women's musical games and then explains how Bertha
Harrison weakened that recognition by reproducing a
gender stereotype. The paragraph begins with the
connector "However." Mark the alternative that describes
the CORRECT cohesive function of this connector.
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279239
Inglês
Texto associado
The Hidden History of Women Game Designers
Educational games were all the rage in the early
ninteenth century. As the narrator of Sir Walter Scott's
1814 novel, Waverley, observed, "the history of England
is now reduced to a game at cards, the problems of
mathematics to puzzles and riddles." This bemusement
reflects the burgeoning industry of instructional card,
dice, and board games that sprang up in the late 1700s,
partly in response to changing attitudes towards juvenile
education outlined early on by the philosopher John
Locke a century before.
Women at the time were, of course, generally barred
from attending college and generally discouraged from
the pursuit of learning beyond acquiring the skills of a
governess. Yet the wave of enthusiasm for educational
games nevertheless created an opportunity for some
enterprising
women—despite significant structural
obstacles—to find an intellectual and creative outlet.
Standout figures in the history of game design include
Margaret Bryan, who directed a girl's school in
Blackheath in southeastern London. A writer on science
with a particular interest in astronomy, Bryan produced
the boardgame Science in Sport, or the Pleasures of
Astronomy in collaboration with the well-known game
publisher John Wallis.
This game, a variation on the staple of the Game of the
Goose (akin to Chutes and Ladders), requires players to
spin a teetotum and race their pieces along the board.
Most of the squares illustrate scientific phenomena,
explained in an accompanying rule booklet, but some
depict bad behavior, such as square six, which features
"The County Gaol...for those who attend to the motion of
Billiard Balls, more than to the motion of the Planets,"
and square twelve, which features "a blockhead." Landing on these meant losing a turn or worse, a player's
place on the board.
Learning the rules of music theory by rote could seem
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself to
gamification.
Other pioneering game designers include children's
author Alicia Catherine Mant, who also published an
astronomy-themed board game, while the ludic
inventions of the poet and schoolteacher Elizabeth
Rowse encompassed A Grammatical Game, in Rhyme,
by a Lady (1802) and Mythological Amusement (1804).
Perhaps the most creative arena for female game
designers, however, was music, and more specifically,
music theory. Among the middle and upper classes,
music was generally seen as a female accomplishment,
and teaching its rudiments to children was typically left to mothers, governesses, or schoolmistresses. Learning the
rules of music theory by rote could seem difficult and
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself
remarkably well to gamification.
The nineteenth century's best-known musical game
designer was the Edinburgh-based pianist and music
teacher Anne Young. In 1801, she received a royal
patent for a set of games intended to "render familiar and
impress upon the memory, the fundamental principles of
the science of music." The first British patent ever
granted for a game, it was also the only one awarded that
year to a female inventor, as David Ghere and Fred
Amram have discovered. Two years after the launch of
the Musical Games, Young, now the respectably married
Mrs.
Gunn, published a two-hundred-fifty page
companion treatise entitled An Introduction to Music,
which explained music theory fundamentals via
instructions for playing her Musical Games. The treatise
is organized as seven sections, each corresponding to a
different set of games, and includes a number of optional
variations, outlining twenty-two different games in total.
A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in
libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're
luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany, while
most of the nearly two hundred parts in each
game—pins, dice, plates, and counters—were carved out
of ivory and ebony. Priced originally at seven guineas,
which was more than the annual wages of a laborer at
the time, this game set would have been affordable only
for the very wealthy.
Unlike earlier musical dice games, which were designed
to encourage composition, Musical Games aimed to
teach the rudiments of theory. Some of the games that
can be played on the set involve racing, with players
competing to move their pieces up and down various
configurations on the board. Others involve the
acquisition of points for correct answers, tallied with
delicate ivory counters. A child following the treatise's
progression of games would engage many of the
fundamentals of music theory, ranging from notation
through more advanced topics in harmony including
chord resolution and modulation.
Young's invention haunted musical journals throughout
the nineteenth century, resurfacing from time to time in
newspaper queries, sometimes from readers intrigued by
the warm endorsement it got from her husband John
Gunn, a distinguished Scottish music pedagogue who
wroteinstructional treatises. (In his writings, Gunn
protested "without having ever previously heard the name
of the ingenious and scientific Inventor, I was struck with
the merits of these Games.") Interestingly, the Musical
Games reappear nearly a century later in the essay
"Games of Music," published in 1907 in the
London-based magazine The Musical Times by Bertha
Harrison, who was very likely the anti-suffrage activist
also known as Ethel Bertha Harrison. Harrison was
interested in music history—her earlier writings in The
Musical Times had treated topics such as child prodigies
and historic concert venues—but it was only in her essay on musical games that she revealed her political
leanings.
In
what may be one of the earliest pieces of
ludomusicology, the study of music and games,
Harrison's essay surveys the role of musical games from
the eighteenth century to her present day. Although she
ostensibly examines musical games in general, most of
her article is dedicated to Young, whom she
characterizes as a woman "possessed of an uncommon
order of mind." Harrison describes Young's games as "so
clever and ingenious, so full of nice detail, that all the
music games of the present day seem poor in design and
clumsy in execution in comparison with it."
However, the crux of Harrison's argument appears in a
subsequent paragraph, where she struggles to put a
positive spin on the striking disparity in the quality of
games designed by women and men, writing that "is a
curious and interesting fact that, among musical games,
those invented by women are very complicated and
extraordinarily full of detail, while those invented by men
are, with very rare exceptions, quite simple and generally
adaptations from other games. From this we may draw
one of two conclusions: either that in this particular line
woman has more originality than man, or that when she
begins to invent, her mind becomes so engrossed with
details as to lose sight of the main issue, and, in the
words of the proverb, she cannot see the wood for the
trees."
Conceding that women might be intrinsically better at
musical game design, Harrison immediately undercuts
this notion with the claim that women are overly
concerned with details, and that is why their games tend
to be more complex. The stereotype of the detail-oriented
woman, as exemplified in this example, is a trope that, as
Naomi Schor reminds us, has informed and limited
understandings of female ability for centuries.
Harrison's critique notwithstanding, the nineteenth
century saw many impressive music educational games
invented by women. The 1851 Great Exhibition in London
featured Gioco di Euterpe, (a game whose name invokes
the Greek goddess of music) designed by Abelinde
Prince and "intended to assist beginners in the
knowledge of the relative value of musical characters,
and to render them good timeists." The editor of The
Girl's Own Book (1869) described a game developed by
an anonymous female friend, entitled "Sir Samuel
Semibreve," which taught sight-singing and could be
ordered from a music shop in Middlesex.
Across the Atlantic, Abbie T. Hays, principal of a music
school in Wichita, Kansas, filed a patent in 1895 for a
"musical game device" designed to teach notation with
pictures depicting the words spelled out by note-names
(think B-A-G or B-E-E). Later that year, Sarah W.
Featherstone, a schoolteacher in Toledo, Ohio, filed a
patent for Nota Bene, which used a spinning wheel to
teach children rhythm. And in 1897, the enterpreneurial
Evelyn Fletcher of Toronto filed both Canadian and US
patents for a Music Block Game. Her "Fletcher Music
Method" would later be endorsed by luminaries such as John Philip Sousa and Hugo Riemann, and it was highly
popular with schoolteachers. This is just a small selection
of the names and devices that pop out of the archive.
In my experience searching historical patent records, one
is more likely to come across games designed by women
than by men. Bertha Harrison seems to have gotten that
right, at least!
Today, using gamification to teach music seems like a
no-brainer. Indeed, many music videogames have
become wildly popular—think instrument-based rhythm
games like Guitar Hero. While these games generally
teach synchronization, there are also plenty of music
theory games available to try online, such as ToneGym,
Solfege Story, or Chet — Ear Training. Although these
modern creations would have been unthinkable a
hundred years ago, these games are still part of an
unusual—and unusually female—tradition.
https://daily.jstor.org/the-hidden-history-of-women-game-designers/
Read the excerpts below and consider the grammatical
functions of the highlighted elements in their original
contexts.
I. In "a royal patent," the indefinite article introduces a singular countable noun that has not yet been specified in that clause.
II. In "the fundamental principles of the science of music," the definite article identifies principles presented as a particular conceptual set.
III. In "remarkably well," the word "well" functions as an adjective modifying the noun "gamification."
IV. In "priced originally at seven guineas," the preposition "at" introduces the amount established as the original price.
Mark each statement as true (T) or false (F), and then select the alternative that presents the CORRECT sequence.
I. In "a royal patent," the indefinite article introduces a singular countable noun that has not yet been specified in that clause.
II. In "the fundamental principles of the science of music," the definite article identifies principles presented as a particular conceptual set.
III. In "remarkably well," the word "well" functions as an adjective modifying the noun "gamification."
IV. In "priced originally at seven guineas," the preposition "at" introduces the amount established as the original price.
Mark each statement as true (T) or false (F), and then select the alternative that presents the CORRECT sequence.
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279240
Inglês
Texto associado
The Hidden History of Women Game Designers
Educational games were all the rage in the early
ninteenth century. As the narrator of Sir Walter Scott's
1814 novel, Waverley, observed, "the history of England
is now reduced to a game at cards, the problems of
mathematics to puzzles and riddles." This bemusement
reflects the burgeoning industry of instructional card,
dice, and board games that sprang up in the late 1700s,
partly in response to changing attitudes towards juvenile
education outlined early on by the philosopher John
Locke a century before.
Women at the time were, of course, generally barred
from attending college and generally discouraged from
the pursuit of learning beyond acquiring the skills of a
governess. Yet the wave of enthusiasm for educational
games nevertheless created an opportunity for some
enterprising
women—despite significant structural
obstacles—to find an intellectual and creative outlet.
Standout figures in the history of game design include
Margaret Bryan, who directed a girl's school in
Blackheath in southeastern London. A writer on science
with a particular interest in astronomy, Bryan produced
the boardgame Science in Sport, or the Pleasures of
Astronomy in collaboration with the well-known game
publisher John Wallis.
This game, a variation on the staple of the Game of the
Goose (akin to Chutes and Ladders), requires players to
spin a teetotum and race their pieces along the board.
Most of the squares illustrate scientific phenomena,
explained in an accompanying rule booklet, but some
depict bad behavior, such as square six, which features
"The County Gaol...for those who attend to the motion of
Billiard Balls, more than to the motion of the Planets,"
and square twelve, which features "a blockhead." Landing on these meant losing a turn or worse, a player's
place on the board.
Learning the rules of music theory by rote could seem
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself to
gamification.
Other pioneering game designers include children's
author Alicia Catherine Mant, who also published an
astronomy-themed board game, while the ludic
inventions of the poet and schoolteacher Elizabeth
Rowse encompassed A Grammatical Game, in Rhyme,
by a Lady (1802) and Mythological Amusement (1804).
Perhaps the most creative arena for female game
designers, however, was music, and more specifically,
music theory. Among the middle and upper classes,
music was generally seen as a female accomplishment,
and teaching its rudiments to children was typically left to mothers, governesses, or schoolmistresses. Learning the
rules of music theory by rote could seem difficult and
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself
remarkably well to gamification.
The nineteenth century's best-known musical game
designer was the Edinburgh-based pianist and music
teacher Anne Young. In 1801, she received a royal
patent for a set of games intended to "render familiar and
impress upon the memory, the fundamental principles of
the science of music." The first British patent ever
granted for a game, it was also the only one awarded that
year to a female inventor, as David Ghere and Fred
Amram have discovered. Two years after the launch of
the Musical Games, Young, now the respectably married
Mrs.
Gunn, published a two-hundred-fifty page
companion treatise entitled An Introduction to Music,
which explained music theory fundamentals via
instructions for playing her Musical Games. The treatise
is organized as seven sections, each corresponding to a
different set of games, and includes a number of optional
variations, outlining twenty-two different games in total.
A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in
libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're
luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany, while
most of the nearly two hundred parts in each
game—pins, dice, plates, and counters—were carved out
of ivory and ebony. Priced originally at seven guineas,
which was more than the annual wages of a laborer at
the time, this game set would have been affordable only
for the very wealthy.
Unlike earlier musical dice games, which were designed
to encourage composition, Musical Games aimed to
teach the rudiments of theory. Some of the games that
can be played on the set involve racing, with players
competing to move their pieces up and down various
configurations on the board. Others involve the
acquisition of points for correct answers, tallied with
delicate ivory counters. A child following the treatise's
progression of games would engage many of the
fundamentals of music theory, ranging from notation
through more advanced topics in harmony including
chord resolution and modulation.
Young's invention haunted musical journals throughout
the nineteenth century, resurfacing from time to time in
newspaper queries, sometimes from readers intrigued by
the warm endorsement it got from her husband John
Gunn, a distinguished Scottish music pedagogue who
wroteinstructional treatises. (In his writings, Gunn
protested "without having ever previously heard the name
of the ingenious and scientific Inventor, I was struck with
the merits of these Games.") Interestingly, the Musical
Games reappear nearly a century later in the essay
"Games of Music," published in 1907 in the
London-based magazine The Musical Times by Bertha
Harrison, who was very likely the anti-suffrage activist
also known as Ethel Bertha Harrison. Harrison was
interested in music history—her earlier writings in The
Musical Times had treated topics such as child prodigies
and historic concert venues—but it was only in her essay on musical games that she revealed her political
leanings.
In
what may be one of the earliest pieces of
ludomusicology, the study of music and games,
Harrison's essay surveys the role of musical games from
the eighteenth century to her present day. Although she
ostensibly examines musical games in general, most of
her article is dedicated to Young, whom she
characterizes as a woman "possessed of an uncommon
order of mind." Harrison describes Young's games as "so
clever and ingenious, so full of nice detail, that all the
music games of the present day seem poor in design and
clumsy in execution in comparison with it."
However, the crux of Harrison's argument appears in a
subsequent paragraph, where she struggles to put a
positive spin on the striking disparity in the quality of
games designed by women and men, writing that "is a
curious and interesting fact that, among musical games,
those invented by women are very complicated and
extraordinarily full of detail, while those invented by men
are, with very rare exceptions, quite simple and generally
adaptations from other games. From this we may draw
one of two conclusions: either that in this particular line
woman has more originality than man, or that when she
begins to invent, her mind becomes so engrossed with
details as to lose sight of the main issue, and, in the
words of the proverb, she cannot see the wood for the
trees."
Conceding that women might be intrinsically better at
musical game design, Harrison immediately undercuts
this notion with the claim that women are overly
concerned with details, and that is why their games tend
to be more complex. The stereotype of the detail-oriented
woman, as exemplified in this example, is a trope that, as
Naomi Schor reminds us, has informed and limited
understandings of female ability for centuries.
Harrison's critique notwithstanding, the nineteenth
century saw many impressive music educational games
invented by women. The 1851 Great Exhibition in London
featured Gioco di Euterpe, (a game whose name invokes
the Greek goddess of music) designed by Abelinde
Prince and "intended to assist beginners in the
knowledge of the relative value of musical characters,
and to render them good timeists." The editor of The
Girl's Own Book (1869) described a game developed by
an anonymous female friend, entitled "Sir Samuel
Semibreve," which taught sight-singing and could be
ordered from a music shop in Middlesex.
Across the Atlantic, Abbie T. Hays, principal of a music
school in Wichita, Kansas, filed a patent in 1895 for a
"musical game device" designed to teach notation with
pictures depicting the words spelled out by note-names
(think B-A-G or B-E-E). Later that year, Sarah W.
Featherstone, a schoolteacher in Toledo, Ohio, filed a
patent for Nota Bene, which used a spinning wheel to
teach children rhythm. And in 1897, the enterpreneurial
Evelyn Fletcher of Toronto filed both Canadian and US
patents for a Music Block Game. Her "Fletcher Music
Method" would later be endorsed by luminaries such as John Philip Sousa and Hugo Riemann, and it was highly
popular with schoolteachers. This is just a small selection
of the names and devices that pop out of the archive.
In my experience searching historical patent records, one
is more likely to come across games designed by women
than by men. Bertha Harrison seems to have gotten that
right, at least!
Today, using gamification to teach music seems like a
no-brainer. Indeed, many music videogames have
become wildly popular—think instrument-based rhythm
games like Guitar Hero. While these games generally
teach synchronization, there are also plenty of music
theory games available to try online, such as ToneGym,
Solfege Story, or Chet — Ear Training. Although these
modern creations would have been unthinkable a
hundred years ago, these games are still part of an
unusual—and unusually female—tradition.
https://daily.jstor.org/the-hidden-history-of-women-game-designers/
The article states: "The first British patent ever granted
for a game was awarded to Anne Young." A student
rewrites the sentence in the active voice while preserving
its meaning and historical focus. Mark the alternative that
presents the CORRECT active construction.
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279241
Inglês
Texto associado
The Hidden History of Women Game Designers
Educational games were all the rage in the early
ninteenth century. As the narrator of Sir Walter Scott's
1814 novel, Waverley, observed, "the history of England
is now reduced to a game at cards, the problems of
mathematics to puzzles and riddles." This bemusement
reflects the burgeoning industry of instructional card,
dice, and board games that sprang up in the late 1700s,
partly in response to changing attitudes towards juvenile
education outlined early on by the philosopher John
Locke a century before.
Women at the time were, of course, generally barred
from attending college and generally discouraged from
the pursuit of learning beyond acquiring the skills of a
governess. Yet the wave of enthusiasm for educational
games nevertheless created an opportunity for some
enterprising
women—despite significant structural
obstacles—to find an intellectual and creative outlet.
Standout figures in the history of game design include
Margaret Bryan, who directed a girl's school in
Blackheath in southeastern London. A writer on science
with a particular interest in astronomy, Bryan produced
the boardgame Science in Sport, or the Pleasures of
Astronomy in collaboration with the well-known game
publisher John Wallis.
This game, a variation on the staple of the Game of the
Goose (akin to Chutes and Ladders), requires players to
spin a teetotum and race their pieces along the board.
Most of the squares illustrate scientific phenomena,
explained in an accompanying rule booklet, but some
depict bad behavior, such as square six, which features
"The County Gaol...for those who attend to the motion of
Billiard Balls, more than to the motion of the Planets,"
and square twelve, which features "a blockhead." Landing on these meant losing a turn or worse, a player's
place on the board.
Learning the rules of music theory by rote could seem
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself to
gamification.
Other pioneering game designers include children's
author Alicia Catherine Mant, who also published an
astronomy-themed board game, while the ludic
inventions of the poet and schoolteacher Elizabeth
Rowse encompassed A Grammatical Game, in Rhyme,
by a Lady (1802) and Mythological Amusement (1804).
Perhaps the most creative arena for female game
designers, however, was music, and more specifically,
music theory. Among the middle and upper classes,
music was generally seen as a female accomplishment,
and teaching its rudiments to children was typically left to mothers, governesses, or schoolmistresses. Learning the
rules of music theory by rote could seem difficult and
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself
remarkably well to gamification.
The nineteenth century's best-known musical game
designer was the Edinburgh-based pianist and music
teacher Anne Young. In 1801, she received a royal
patent for a set of games intended to "render familiar and
impress upon the memory, the fundamental principles of
the science of music." The first British patent ever
granted for a game, it was also the only one awarded that
year to a female inventor, as David Ghere and Fred
Amram have discovered. Two years after the launch of
the Musical Games, Young, now the respectably married
Mrs.
Gunn, published a two-hundred-fifty page
companion treatise entitled An Introduction to Music,
which explained music theory fundamentals via
instructions for playing her Musical Games. The treatise
is organized as seven sections, each corresponding to a
different set of games, and includes a number of optional
variations, outlining twenty-two different games in total.
A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in
libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're
luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany, while
most of the nearly two hundred parts in each
game—pins, dice, plates, and counters—were carved out
of ivory and ebony. Priced originally at seven guineas,
which was more than the annual wages of a laborer at
the time, this game set would have been affordable only
for the very wealthy.
Unlike earlier musical dice games, which were designed
to encourage composition, Musical Games aimed to
teach the rudiments of theory. Some of the games that
can be played on the set involve racing, with players
competing to move their pieces up and down various
configurations on the board. Others involve the
acquisition of points for correct answers, tallied with
delicate ivory counters. A child following the treatise's
progression of games would engage many of the
fundamentals of music theory, ranging from notation
through more advanced topics in harmony including
chord resolution and modulation.
Young's invention haunted musical journals throughout
the nineteenth century, resurfacing from time to time in
newspaper queries, sometimes from readers intrigued by
the warm endorsement it got from her husband John
Gunn, a distinguished Scottish music pedagogue who
wroteinstructional treatises. (In his writings, Gunn
protested "without having ever previously heard the name
of the ingenious and scientific Inventor, I was struck with
the merits of these Games.") Interestingly, the Musical
Games reappear nearly a century later in the essay
"Games of Music," published in 1907 in the
London-based magazine The Musical Times by Bertha
Harrison, who was very likely the anti-suffrage activist
also known as Ethel Bertha Harrison. Harrison was
interested in music history—her earlier writings in The
Musical Times had treated topics such as child prodigies
and historic concert venues—but it was only in her essay on musical games that she revealed her political
leanings.
In
what may be one of the earliest pieces of
ludomusicology, the study of music and games,
Harrison's essay surveys the role of musical games from
the eighteenth century to her present day. Although she
ostensibly examines musical games in general, most of
her article is dedicated to Young, whom she
characterizes as a woman "possessed of an uncommon
order of mind." Harrison describes Young's games as "so
clever and ingenious, so full of nice detail, that all the
music games of the present day seem poor in design and
clumsy in execution in comparison with it."
However, the crux of Harrison's argument appears in a
subsequent paragraph, where she struggles to put a
positive spin on the striking disparity in the quality of
games designed by women and men, writing that "is a
curious and interesting fact that, among musical games,
those invented by women are very complicated and
extraordinarily full of detail, while those invented by men
are, with very rare exceptions, quite simple and generally
adaptations from other games. From this we may draw
one of two conclusions: either that in this particular line
woman has more originality than man, or that when she
begins to invent, her mind becomes so engrossed with
details as to lose sight of the main issue, and, in the
words of the proverb, she cannot see the wood for the
trees."
Conceding that women might be intrinsically better at
musical game design, Harrison immediately undercuts
this notion with the claim that women are overly
concerned with details, and that is why their games tend
to be more complex. The stereotype of the detail-oriented
woman, as exemplified in this example, is a trope that, as
Naomi Schor reminds us, has informed and limited
understandings of female ability for centuries.
Harrison's critique notwithstanding, the nineteenth
century saw many impressive music educational games
invented by women. The 1851 Great Exhibition in London
featured Gioco di Euterpe, (a game whose name invokes
the Greek goddess of music) designed by Abelinde
Prince and "intended to assist beginners in the
knowledge of the relative value of musical characters,
and to render them good timeists." The editor of The
Girl's Own Book (1869) described a game developed by
an anonymous female friend, entitled "Sir Samuel
Semibreve," which taught sight-singing and could be
ordered from a music shop in Middlesex.
Across the Atlantic, Abbie T. Hays, principal of a music
school in Wichita, Kansas, filed a patent in 1895 for a
"musical game device" designed to teach notation with
pictures depicting the words spelled out by note-names
(think B-A-G or B-E-E). Later that year, Sarah W.
Featherstone, a schoolteacher in Toledo, Ohio, filed a
patent for Nota Bene, which used a spinning wheel to
teach children rhythm. And in 1897, the enterpreneurial
Evelyn Fletcher of Toronto filed both Canadian and US
patents for a Music Block Game. Her "Fletcher Music
Method" would later be endorsed by luminaries such as John Philip Sousa and Hugo Riemann, and it was highly
popular with schoolteachers. This is just a small selection
of the names and devices that pop out of the archive.
In my experience searching historical patent records, one
is more likely to come across games designed by women
than by men. Bertha Harrison seems to have gotten that
right, at least!
Today, using gamification to teach music seems like a
no-brainer. Indeed, many music videogames have
become wildly popular—think instrument-based rhythm
games like Guitar Hero. While these games generally
teach synchronization, there are also plenty of music
theory games available to try online, such as ToneGym,
Solfege Story, or Chet — Ear Training. Although these
modern creations would have been unthinkable a
hundred years ago, these games are still part of an
unusual—and unusually female—tradition.
https://daily.jstor.org/the-hidden-history-of-women-game-designers/
Women in the period were generally excluded from
higher education, yet educational game design created
an alternative intellectual outlet. A researcher formulates
a counterfactual statement about this historical situation.
Mark the alternative that presents a CORRECT third
conditional sentence.
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279242
Inglês
Texto associado
The Hidden History of Women Game Designers
Educational games were all the rage in the early
ninteenth century. As the narrator of Sir Walter Scott's
1814 novel, Waverley, observed, "the history of England
is now reduced to a game at cards, the problems of
mathematics to puzzles and riddles." This bemusement
reflects the burgeoning industry of instructional card,
dice, and board games that sprang up in the late 1700s,
partly in response to changing attitudes towards juvenile
education outlined early on by the philosopher John
Locke a century before.
Women at the time were, of course, generally barred
from attending college and generally discouraged from
the pursuit of learning beyond acquiring the skills of a
governess. Yet the wave of enthusiasm for educational
games nevertheless created an opportunity for some
enterprising
women—despite significant structural
obstacles—to find an intellectual and creative outlet.
Standout figures in the history of game design include
Margaret Bryan, who directed a girl's school in
Blackheath in southeastern London. A writer on science
with a particular interest in astronomy, Bryan produced
the boardgame Science in Sport, or the Pleasures of
Astronomy in collaboration with the well-known game
publisher John Wallis.
This game, a variation on the staple of the Game of the
Goose (akin to Chutes and Ladders), requires players to
spin a teetotum and race their pieces along the board.
Most of the squares illustrate scientific phenomena,
explained in an accompanying rule booklet, but some
depict bad behavior, such as square six, which features
"The County Gaol...for those who attend to the motion of
Billiard Balls, more than to the motion of the Planets,"
and square twelve, which features "a blockhead." Landing on these meant losing a turn or worse, a player's
place on the board.
Learning the rules of music theory by rote could seem
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself to
gamification.
Other pioneering game designers include children's
author Alicia Catherine Mant, who also published an
astronomy-themed board game, while the ludic
inventions of the poet and schoolteacher Elizabeth
Rowse encompassed A Grammatical Game, in Rhyme,
by a Lady (1802) and Mythological Amusement (1804).
Perhaps the most creative arena for female game
designers, however, was music, and more specifically,
music theory. Among the middle and upper classes,
music was generally seen as a female accomplishment,
and teaching its rudiments to children was typically left to mothers, governesses, or schoolmistresses. Learning the
rules of music theory by rote could seem difficult and
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself
remarkably well to gamification.
The nineteenth century's best-known musical game
designer was the Edinburgh-based pianist and music
teacher Anne Young. In 1801, she received a royal
patent for a set of games intended to "render familiar and
impress upon the memory, the fundamental principles of
the science of music." The first British patent ever
granted for a game, it was also the only one awarded that
year to a female inventor, as David Ghere and Fred
Amram have discovered. Two years after the launch of
the Musical Games, Young, now the respectably married
Mrs.
Gunn, published a two-hundred-fifty page
companion treatise entitled An Introduction to Music,
which explained music theory fundamentals via
instructions for playing her Musical Games. The treatise
is organized as seven sections, each corresponding to a
different set of games, and includes a number of optional
variations, outlining twenty-two different games in total.
A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in
libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're
luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany, while
most of the nearly two hundred parts in each
game—pins, dice, plates, and counters—were carved out
of ivory and ebony. Priced originally at seven guineas,
which was more than the annual wages of a laborer at
the time, this game set would have been affordable only
for the very wealthy.
Unlike earlier musical dice games, which were designed
to encourage composition, Musical Games aimed to
teach the rudiments of theory. Some of the games that
can be played on the set involve racing, with players
competing to move their pieces up and down various
configurations on the board. Others involve the
acquisition of points for correct answers, tallied with
delicate ivory counters. A child following the treatise's
progression of games would engage many of the
fundamentals of music theory, ranging from notation
through more advanced topics in harmony including
chord resolution and modulation.
Young's invention haunted musical journals throughout
the nineteenth century, resurfacing from time to time in
newspaper queries, sometimes from readers intrigued by
the warm endorsement it got from her husband John
Gunn, a distinguished Scottish music pedagogue who
wroteinstructional treatises. (In his writings, Gunn
protested "without having ever previously heard the name
of the ingenious and scientific Inventor, I was struck with
the merits of these Games.") Interestingly, the Musical
Games reappear nearly a century later in the essay
"Games of Music," published in 1907 in the
London-based magazine The Musical Times by Bertha
Harrison, who was very likely the anti-suffrage activist
also known as Ethel Bertha Harrison. Harrison was
interested in music history—her earlier writings in The
Musical Times had treated topics such as child prodigies
and historic concert venues—but it was only in her essay on musical games that she revealed her political
leanings.
In
what may be one of the earliest pieces of
ludomusicology, the study of music and games,
Harrison's essay surveys the role of musical games from
the eighteenth century to her present day. Although she
ostensibly examines musical games in general, most of
her article is dedicated to Young, whom she
characterizes as a woman "possessed of an uncommon
order of mind." Harrison describes Young's games as "so
clever and ingenious, so full of nice detail, that all the
music games of the present day seem poor in design and
clumsy in execution in comparison with it."
However, the crux of Harrison's argument appears in a
subsequent paragraph, where she struggles to put a
positive spin on the striking disparity in the quality of
games designed by women and men, writing that "is a
curious and interesting fact that, among musical games,
those invented by women are very complicated and
extraordinarily full of detail, while those invented by men
are, with very rare exceptions, quite simple and generally
adaptations from other games. From this we may draw
one of two conclusions: either that in this particular line
woman has more originality than man, or that when she
begins to invent, her mind becomes so engrossed with
details as to lose sight of the main issue, and, in the
words of the proverb, she cannot see the wood for the
trees."
Conceding that women might be intrinsically better at
musical game design, Harrison immediately undercuts
this notion with the claim that women are overly
concerned with details, and that is why their games tend
to be more complex. The stereotype of the detail-oriented
woman, as exemplified in this example, is a trope that, as
Naomi Schor reminds us, has informed and limited
understandings of female ability for centuries.
Harrison's critique notwithstanding, the nineteenth
century saw many impressive music educational games
invented by women. The 1851 Great Exhibition in London
featured Gioco di Euterpe, (a game whose name invokes
the Greek goddess of music) designed by Abelinde
Prince and "intended to assist beginners in the
knowledge of the relative value of musical characters,
and to render them good timeists." The editor of The
Girl's Own Book (1869) described a game developed by
an anonymous female friend, entitled "Sir Samuel
Semibreve," which taught sight-singing and could be
ordered from a music shop in Middlesex.
Across the Atlantic, Abbie T. Hays, principal of a music
school in Wichita, Kansas, filed a patent in 1895 for a
"musical game device" designed to teach notation with
pictures depicting the words spelled out by note-names
(think B-A-G or B-E-E). Later that year, Sarah W.
Featherstone, a schoolteacher in Toledo, Ohio, filed a
patent for Nota Bene, which used a spinning wheel to
teach children rhythm. And in 1897, the enterpreneurial
Evelyn Fletcher of Toronto filed both Canadian and US
patents for a Music Block Game. Her "Fletcher Music
Method" would later be endorsed by luminaries such as John Philip Sousa and Hugo Riemann, and it was highly
popular with schoolteachers. This is just a small selection
of the names and devices that pop out of the archive.
In my experience searching historical patent records, one
is more likely to come across games designed by women
than by men. Bertha Harrison seems to have gotten that
right, at least!
Today, using gamification to teach music seems like a
no-brainer. Indeed, many music videogames have
become wildly popular—think instrument-based rhythm
games like Guitar Hero. While these games generally
teach synchronization, there are also plenty of music
theory games available to try online, such as ToneGym,
Solfege Story, or Chet — Ear Training. Although these
modern creations would have been unthinkable a
hundred years ago, these games are still part of an
unusual—and unusually female—tradition.
https://daily.jstor.org/the-hidden-history-of-women-game-designers/
The article includes the proverb "she cannot see the
wood for the trees" and repeatedly uses the modal verb
"would." Although "wood" and "would" differ in spelling
and meaning, they are pronounced alike in standard
varieties of English. Evaluate the statements and mark
them as true (T) or false (F).
( ) "Wood" and "would" form a pair of homophones.
( ) Their pronunciation is generally represented by the same phonemic sequence.
( ) Their grammatical functions are identical because their pronunciation is the same.
( ) Context allows listeners to distinguish their meanings in connected speech.
Mark the alternative that presents the CORRECT sequence.
( ) "Wood" and "would" form a pair of homophones.
( ) Their pronunciation is generally represented by the same phonemic sequence.
( ) Their grammatical functions are identical because their pronunciation is the same.
( ) Context allows listeners to distinguish their meanings in connected speech.
Mark the alternative that presents the CORRECT sequence.
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279243
Inglês
Texto associado
The Hidden History of Women Game Designers
Educational games were all the rage in the early
ninteenth century. As the narrator of Sir Walter Scott's
1814 novel, Waverley, observed, "the history of England
is now reduced to a game at cards, the problems of
mathematics to puzzles and riddles." This bemusement
reflects the burgeoning industry of instructional card,
dice, and board games that sprang up in the late 1700s,
partly in response to changing attitudes towards juvenile
education outlined early on by the philosopher John
Locke a century before.
Women at the time were, of course, generally barred
from attending college and generally discouraged from
the pursuit of learning beyond acquiring the skills of a
governess. Yet the wave of enthusiasm for educational
games nevertheless created an opportunity for some
enterprising
women—despite significant structural
obstacles—to find an intellectual and creative outlet.
Standout figures in the history of game design include
Margaret Bryan, who directed a girl's school in
Blackheath in southeastern London. A writer on science
with a particular interest in astronomy, Bryan produced
the boardgame Science in Sport, or the Pleasures of
Astronomy in collaboration with the well-known game
publisher John Wallis.
This game, a variation on the staple of the Game of the
Goose (akin to Chutes and Ladders), requires players to
spin a teetotum and race their pieces along the board.
Most of the squares illustrate scientific phenomena,
explained in an accompanying rule booklet, but some
depict bad behavior, such as square six, which features
"The County Gaol...for those who attend to the motion of
Billiard Balls, more than to the motion of the Planets,"
and square twelve, which features "a blockhead." Landing on these meant losing a turn or worse, a player's
place on the board.
Learning the rules of music theory by rote could seem
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself to
gamification.
Other pioneering game designers include children's
author Alicia Catherine Mant, who also published an
astronomy-themed board game, while the ludic
inventions of the poet and schoolteacher Elizabeth
Rowse encompassed A Grammatical Game, in Rhyme,
by a Lady (1802) and Mythological Amusement (1804).
Perhaps the most creative arena for female game
designers, however, was music, and more specifically,
music theory. Among the middle and upper classes,
music was generally seen as a female accomplishment,
and teaching its rudiments to children was typically left to mothers, governesses, or schoolmistresses. Learning the
rules of music theory by rote could seem difficult and
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself
remarkably well to gamification.
The nineteenth century's best-known musical game
designer was the Edinburgh-based pianist and music
teacher Anne Young. In 1801, she received a royal
patent for a set of games intended to "render familiar and
impress upon the memory, the fundamental principles of
the science of music." The first British patent ever
granted for a game, it was also the only one awarded that
year to a female inventor, as David Ghere and Fred
Amram have discovered. Two years after the launch of
the Musical Games, Young, now the respectably married
Mrs.
Gunn, published a two-hundred-fifty page
companion treatise entitled An Introduction to Music,
which explained music theory fundamentals via
instructions for playing her Musical Games. The treatise
is organized as seven sections, each corresponding to a
different set of games, and includes a number of optional
variations, outlining twenty-two different games in total.
A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in
libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're
luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany, while
most of the nearly two hundred parts in each
game—pins, dice, plates, and counters—were carved out
of ivory and ebony. Priced originally at seven guineas,
which was more than the annual wages of a laborer at
the time, this game set would have been affordable only
for the very wealthy.
Unlike earlier musical dice games, which were designed
to encourage composition, Musical Games aimed to
teach the rudiments of theory. Some of the games that
can be played on the set involve racing, with players
competing to move their pieces up and down various
configurations on the board. Others involve the
acquisition of points for correct answers, tallied with
delicate ivory counters. A child following the treatise's
progression of games would engage many of the
fundamentals of music theory, ranging from notation
through more advanced topics in harmony including
chord resolution and modulation.
Young's invention haunted musical journals throughout
the nineteenth century, resurfacing from time to time in
newspaper queries, sometimes from readers intrigued by
the warm endorsement it got from her husband John
Gunn, a distinguished Scottish music pedagogue who
wroteinstructional treatises. (In his writings, Gunn
protested "without having ever previously heard the name
of the ingenious and scientific Inventor, I was struck with
the merits of these Games.") Interestingly, the Musical
Games reappear nearly a century later in the essay
"Games of Music," published in 1907 in the
London-based magazine The Musical Times by Bertha
Harrison, who was very likely the anti-suffrage activist
also known as Ethel Bertha Harrison. Harrison was
interested in music history—her earlier writings in The
Musical Times had treated topics such as child prodigies
and historic concert venues—but it was only in her essay on musical games that she revealed her political
leanings.
In
what may be one of the earliest pieces of
ludomusicology, the study of music and games,
Harrison's essay surveys the role of musical games from
the eighteenth century to her present day. Although she
ostensibly examines musical games in general, most of
her article is dedicated to Young, whom she
characterizes as a woman "possessed of an uncommon
order of mind." Harrison describes Young's games as "so
clever and ingenious, so full of nice detail, that all the
music games of the present day seem poor in design and
clumsy in execution in comparison with it."
However, the crux of Harrison's argument appears in a
subsequent paragraph, where she struggles to put a
positive spin on the striking disparity in the quality of
games designed by women and men, writing that "is a
curious and interesting fact that, among musical games,
those invented by women are very complicated and
extraordinarily full of detail, while those invented by men
are, with very rare exceptions, quite simple and generally
adaptations from other games. From this we may draw
one of two conclusions: either that in this particular line
woman has more originality than man, or that when she
begins to invent, her mind becomes so engrossed with
details as to lose sight of the main issue, and, in the
words of the proverb, she cannot see the wood for the
trees."
Conceding that women might be intrinsically better at
musical game design, Harrison immediately undercuts
this notion with the claim that women are overly
concerned with details, and that is why their games tend
to be more complex. The stereotype of the detail-oriented
woman, as exemplified in this example, is a trope that, as
Naomi Schor reminds us, has informed and limited
understandings of female ability for centuries.
Harrison's critique notwithstanding, the nineteenth
century saw many impressive music educational games
invented by women. The 1851 Great Exhibition in London
featured Gioco di Euterpe, (a game whose name invokes
the Greek goddess of music) designed by Abelinde
Prince and "intended to assist beginners in the
knowledge of the relative value of musical characters,
and to render them good timeists." The editor of The
Girl's Own Book (1869) described a game developed by
an anonymous female friend, entitled "Sir Samuel
Semibreve," which taught sight-singing and could be
ordered from a music shop in Middlesex.
Across the Atlantic, Abbie T. Hays, principal of a music
school in Wichita, Kansas, filed a patent in 1895 for a
"musical game device" designed to teach notation with
pictures depicting the words spelled out by note-names
(think B-A-G or B-E-E). Later that year, Sarah W.
Featherstone, a schoolteacher in Toledo, Ohio, filed a
patent for Nota Bene, which used a spinning wheel to
teach children rhythm. And in 1897, the enterpreneurial
Evelyn Fletcher of Toronto filed both Canadian and US
patents for a Music Block Game. Her "Fletcher Music
Method" would later be endorsed by luminaries such as John Philip Sousa and Hugo Riemann, and it was highly
popular with schoolteachers. This is just a small selection
of the names and devices that pop out of the archive.
In my experience searching historical patent records, one
is more likely to come across games designed by women
than by men. Bertha Harrison seems to have gotten that
right, at least!
Today, using gamification to teach music seems like a
no-brainer. Indeed, many music videogames have
become wildly popular—think instrument-based rhythm
games like Guitar Hero. While these games generally
teach synchronization, there are also plenty of music
theory games available to try online, such as ToneGym,
Solfege Story, or Chet — Ear Training. Although these
modern creations would have been unthinkable a
hundred years ago, these games are still part of an
unusual—and unusually female—tradition.
https://daily.jstor.org/the-hidden-history-of-women-game-designers/
The article reconstructs the participation of women in the
development of educational games from the late
eighteenth century onward. Rather than presenting their
work as an isolated curiosity, the author connects game
design with access to education, gender restrictions,
technological change, and the preservation of historical
records. Based on the text, mark the alternative that
presents the CORRECT interpretation of its central
argument.
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279244
Inglês
Texto associado
The Hidden History of Women Game Designers
Educational games were all the rage in the early
ninteenth century. As the narrator of Sir Walter Scott's
1814 novel, Waverley, observed, "the history of England
is now reduced to a game at cards, the problems of
mathematics to puzzles and riddles." This bemusement
reflects the burgeoning industry of instructional card,
dice, and board games that sprang up in the late 1700s,
partly in response to changing attitudes towards juvenile
education outlined early on by the philosopher John
Locke a century before.
Women at the time were, of course, generally barred
from attending college and generally discouraged from
the pursuit of learning beyond acquiring the skills of a
governess. Yet the wave of enthusiasm for educational
games nevertheless created an opportunity for some
enterprising
women—despite significant structural
obstacles—to find an intellectual and creative outlet.
Standout figures in the history of game design include
Margaret Bryan, who directed a girl's school in
Blackheath in southeastern London. A writer on science
with a particular interest in astronomy, Bryan produced
the boardgame Science in Sport, or the Pleasures of
Astronomy in collaboration with the well-known game
publisher John Wallis.
This game, a variation on the staple of the Game of the
Goose (akin to Chutes and Ladders), requires players to
spin a teetotum and race their pieces along the board.
Most of the squares illustrate scientific phenomena,
explained in an accompanying rule booklet, but some
depict bad behavior, such as square six, which features
"The County Gaol...for those who attend to the motion of
Billiard Balls, more than to the motion of the Planets,"
and square twelve, which features "a blockhead." Landing on these meant losing a turn or worse, a player's
place on the board.
Learning the rules of music theory by rote could seem
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself to
gamification.
Other pioneering game designers include children's
author Alicia Catherine Mant, who also published an
astronomy-themed board game, while the ludic
inventions of the poet and schoolteacher Elizabeth
Rowse encompassed A Grammatical Game, in Rhyme,
by a Lady (1802) and Mythological Amusement (1804).
Perhaps the most creative arena for female game
designers, however, was music, and more specifically,
music theory. Among the middle and upper classes,
music was generally seen as a female accomplishment,
and teaching its rudiments to children was typically left to mothers, governesses, or schoolmistresses. Learning the
rules of music theory by rote could seem difficult and
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself
remarkably well to gamification.
The nineteenth century's best-known musical game
designer was the Edinburgh-based pianist and music
teacher Anne Young. In 1801, she received a royal
patent for a set of games intended to "render familiar and
impress upon the memory, the fundamental principles of
the science of music." The first British patent ever
granted for a game, it was also the only one awarded that
year to a female inventor, as David Ghere and Fred
Amram have discovered. Two years after the launch of
the Musical Games, Young, now the respectably married
Mrs.
Gunn, published a two-hundred-fifty page
companion treatise entitled An Introduction to Music,
which explained music theory fundamentals via
instructions for playing her Musical Games. The treatise
is organized as seven sections, each corresponding to a
different set of games, and includes a number of optional
variations, outlining twenty-two different games in total.
A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in
libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're
luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany, while
most of the nearly two hundred parts in each
game—pins, dice, plates, and counters—were carved out
of ivory and ebony. Priced originally at seven guineas,
which was more than the annual wages of a laborer at
the time, this game set would have been affordable only
for the very wealthy.
Unlike earlier musical dice games, which were designed
to encourage composition, Musical Games aimed to
teach the rudiments of theory. Some of the games that
can be played on the set involve racing, with players
competing to move their pieces up and down various
configurations on the board. Others involve the
acquisition of points for correct answers, tallied with
delicate ivory counters. A child following the treatise's
progression of games would engage many of the
fundamentals of music theory, ranging from notation
through more advanced topics in harmony including
chord resolution and modulation.
Young's invention haunted musical journals throughout
the nineteenth century, resurfacing from time to time in
newspaper queries, sometimes from readers intrigued by
the warm endorsement it got from her husband John
Gunn, a distinguished Scottish music pedagogue who
wroteinstructional treatises. (In his writings, Gunn
protested "without having ever previously heard the name
of the ingenious and scientific Inventor, I was struck with
the merits of these Games.") Interestingly, the Musical
Games reappear nearly a century later in the essay
"Games of Music," published in 1907 in the
London-based magazine The Musical Times by Bertha
Harrison, who was very likely the anti-suffrage activist
also known as Ethel Bertha Harrison. Harrison was
interested in music history—her earlier writings in The
Musical Times had treated topics such as child prodigies
and historic concert venues—but it was only in her essay on musical games that she revealed her political
leanings.
In
what may be one of the earliest pieces of
ludomusicology, the study of music and games,
Harrison's essay surveys the role of musical games from
the eighteenth century to her present day. Although she
ostensibly examines musical games in general, most of
her article is dedicated to Young, whom she
characterizes as a woman "possessed of an uncommon
order of mind." Harrison describes Young's games as "so
clever and ingenious, so full of nice detail, that all the
music games of the present day seem poor in design and
clumsy in execution in comparison with it."
However, the crux of Harrison's argument appears in a
subsequent paragraph, where she struggles to put a
positive spin on the striking disparity in the quality of
games designed by women and men, writing that "is a
curious and interesting fact that, among musical games,
those invented by women are very complicated and
extraordinarily full of detail, while those invented by men
are, with very rare exceptions, quite simple and generally
adaptations from other games. From this we may draw
one of two conclusions: either that in this particular line
woman has more originality than man, or that when she
begins to invent, her mind becomes so engrossed with
details as to lose sight of the main issue, and, in the
words of the proverb, she cannot see the wood for the
trees."
Conceding that women might be intrinsically better at
musical game design, Harrison immediately undercuts
this notion with the claim that women are overly
concerned with details, and that is why their games tend
to be more complex. The stereotype of the detail-oriented
woman, as exemplified in this example, is a trope that, as
Naomi Schor reminds us, has informed and limited
understandings of female ability for centuries.
Harrison's critique notwithstanding, the nineteenth
century saw many impressive music educational games
invented by women. The 1851 Great Exhibition in London
featured Gioco di Euterpe, (a game whose name invokes
the Greek goddess of music) designed by Abelinde
Prince and "intended to assist beginners in the
knowledge of the relative value of musical characters,
and to render them good timeists." The editor of The
Girl's Own Book (1869) described a game developed by
an anonymous female friend, entitled "Sir Samuel
Semibreve," which taught sight-singing and could be
ordered from a music shop in Middlesex.
Across the Atlantic, Abbie T. Hays, principal of a music
school in Wichita, Kansas, filed a patent in 1895 for a
"musical game device" designed to teach notation with
pictures depicting the words spelled out by note-names
(think B-A-G or B-E-E). Later that year, Sarah W.
Featherstone, a schoolteacher in Toledo, Ohio, filed a
patent for Nota Bene, which used a spinning wheel to
teach children rhythm. And in 1897, the enterpreneurial
Evelyn Fletcher of Toronto filed both Canadian and US
patents for a Music Block Game. Her "Fletcher Music
Method" would later be endorsed by luminaries such as John Philip Sousa and Hugo Riemann, and it was highly
popular with schoolteachers. This is just a small selection
of the names and devices that pop out of the archive.
In my experience searching historical patent records, one
is more likely to come across games designed by women
than by men. Bertha Harrison seems to have gotten that
right, at least!
Today, using gamification to teach music seems like a
no-brainer. Indeed, many music videogames have
become wildly popular—think instrument-based rhythm
games like Guitar Hero. While these games generally
teach synchronization, there are also plenty of music
theory games available to try online, such as ToneGym,
Solfege Story, or Chet — Ear Training. Although these
modern creations would have been unthinkable a
hundred years ago, these games are still part of an
unusual—and unusually female—tradition.
https://daily.jstor.org/the-hidden-history-of-women-game-designers/
The article contains the expression "The County Gaol,"
quoted from a British educational game, and later uses
the word "laborer" when explaining the price of Anne
Young's game set. These forms reflect different spelling
traditions. Match the words in Column I with the
descriptions in Column II.
Column I
1. Gaol. 2. Jail. 3. Laborer. 4. Labourer.
Column II
I. Traditional British spelling for a place of imprisonment.
II. Common modern spelling in both American and British usage.
III. American spelling without the letter "u."
IV. British spelling retaining the letter "u."
Mark the alternative that presents the CORRECT matching.
Column I
1. Gaol. 2. Jail. 3. Laborer. 4. Labourer.
Column II
I. Traditional British spelling for a place of imprisonment.
II. Common modern spelling in both American and British usage.
III. American spelling without the letter "u."
IV. British spelling retaining the letter "u."
Mark the alternative that presents the CORRECT matching.
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279245
Inglês
Texto associado
The Hidden History of Women Game Designers
Educational games were all the rage in the early
ninteenth century. As the narrator of Sir Walter Scott's
1814 novel, Waverley, observed, "the history of England
is now reduced to a game at cards, the problems of
mathematics to puzzles and riddles." This bemusement
reflects the burgeoning industry of instructional card,
dice, and board games that sprang up in the late 1700s,
partly in response to changing attitudes towards juvenile
education outlined early on by the philosopher John
Locke a century before.
Women at the time were, of course, generally barred
from attending college and generally discouraged from
the pursuit of learning beyond acquiring the skills of a
governess. Yet the wave of enthusiasm for educational
games nevertheless created an opportunity for some
enterprising
women—despite significant structural
obstacles—to find an intellectual and creative outlet.
Standout figures in the history of game design include
Margaret Bryan, who directed a girl's school in
Blackheath in southeastern London. A writer on science
with a particular interest in astronomy, Bryan produced
the boardgame Science in Sport, or the Pleasures of
Astronomy in collaboration with the well-known game
publisher John Wallis.
This game, a variation on the staple of the Game of the
Goose (akin to Chutes and Ladders), requires players to
spin a teetotum and race their pieces along the board.
Most of the squares illustrate scientific phenomena,
explained in an accompanying rule booklet, but some
depict bad behavior, such as square six, which features
"The County Gaol...for those who attend to the motion of
Billiard Balls, more than to the motion of the Planets,"
and square twelve, which features "a blockhead." Landing on these meant losing a turn or worse, a player's
place on the board.
Learning the rules of music theory by rote could seem
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself to
gamification.
Other pioneering game designers include children's
author Alicia Catherine Mant, who also published an
astronomy-themed board game, while the ludic
inventions of the poet and schoolteacher Elizabeth
Rowse encompassed A Grammatical Game, in Rhyme,
by a Lady (1802) and Mythological Amusement (1804).
Perhaps the most creative arena for female game
designers, however, was music, and more specifically,
music theory. Among the middle and upper classes,
music was generally seen as a female accomplishment,
and teaching its rudiments to children was typically left to mothers, governesses, or schoolmistresses. Learning the
rules of music theory by rote could seem difficult and
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself
remarkably well to gamification.
The nineteenth century's best-known musical game
designer was the Edinburgh-based pianist and music
teacher Anne Young. In 1801, she received a royal
patent for a set of games intended to "render familiar and
impress upon the memory, the fundamental principles of
the science of music." The first British patent ever
granted for a game, it was also the only one awarded that
year to a female inventor, as David Ghere and Fred
Amram have discovered. Two years after the launch of
the Musical Games, Young, now the respectably married
Mrs.
Gunn, published a two-hundred-fifty page
companion treatise entitled An Introduction to Music,
which explained music theory fundamentals via
instructions for playing her Musical Games. The treatise
is organized as seven sections, each corresponding to a
different set of games, and includes a number of optional
variations, outlining twenty-two different games in total.
A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in
libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're
luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany, while
most of the nearly two hundred parts in each
game—pins, dice, plates, and counters—were carved out
of ivory and ebony. Priced originally at seven guineas,
which was more than the annual wages of a laborer at
the time, this game set would have been affordable only
for the very wealthy.
Unlike earlier musical dice games, which were designed
to encourage composition, Musical Games aimed to
teach the rudiments of theory. Some of the games that
can be played on the set involve racing, with players
competing to move their pieces up and down various
configurations on the board. Others involve the
acquisition of points for correct answers, tallied with
delicate ivory counters. A child following the treatise's
progression of games would engage many of the
fundamentals of music theory, ranging from notation
through more advanced topics in harmony including
chord resolution and modulation.
Young's invention haunted musical journals throughout
the nineteenth century, resurfacing from time to time in
newspaper queries, sometimes from readers intrigued by
the warm endorsement it got from her husband John
Gunn, a distinguished Scottish music pedagogue who
wroteinstructional treatises. (In his writings, Gunn
protested "without having ever previously heard the name
of the ingenious and scientific Inventor, I was struck with
the merits of these Games.") Interestingly, the Musical
Games reappear nearly a century later in the essay
"Games of Music," published in 1907 in the
London-based magazine The Musical Times by Bertha
Harrison, who was very likely the anti-suffrage activist
also known as Ethel Bertha Harrison. Harrison was
interested in music history—her earlier writings in The
Musical Times had treated topics such as child prodigies
and historic concert venues—but it was only in her essay on musical games that she revealed her political
leanings.
In
what may be one of the earliest pieces of
ludomusicology, the study of music and games,
Harrison's essay surveys the role of musical games from
the eighteenth century to her present day. Although she
ostensibly examines musical games in general, most of
her article is dedicated to Young, whom she
characterizes as a woman "possessed of an uncommon
order of mind." Harrison describes Young's games as "so
clever and ingenious, so full of nice detail, that all the
music games of the present day seem poor in design and
clumsy in execution in comparison with it."
However, the crux of Harrison's argument appears in a
subsequent paragraph, where she struggles to put a
positive spin on the striking disparity in the quality of
games designed by women and men, writing that "is a
curious and interesting fact that, among musical games,
those invented by women are very complicated and
extraordinarily full of detail, while those invented by men
are, with very rare exceptions, quite simple and generally
adaptations from other games. From this we may draw
one of two conclusions: either that in this particular line
woman has more originality than man, or that when she
begins to invent, her mind becomes so engrossed with
details as to lose sight of the main issue, and, in the
words of the proverb, she cannot see the wood for the
trees."
Conceding that women might be intrinsically better at
musical game design, Harrison immediately undercuts
this notion with the claim that women are overly
concerned with details, and that is why their games tend
to be more complex. The stereotype of the detail-oriented
woman, as exemplified in this example, is a trope that, as
Naomi Schor reminds us, has informed and limited
understandings of female ability for centuries.
Harrison's critique notwithstanding, the nineteenth
century saw many impressive music educational games
invented by women. The 1851 Great Exhibition in London
featured Gioco di Euterpe, (a game whose name invokes
the Greek goddess of music) designed by Abelinde
Prince and "intended to assist beginners in the
knowledge of the relative value of musical characters,
and to render them good timeists." The editor of The
Girl's Own Book (1869) described a game developed by
an anonymous female friend, entitled "Sir Samuel
Semibreve," which taught sight-singing and could be
ordered from a music shop in Middlesex.
Across the Atlantic, Abbie T. Hays, principal of a music
school in Wichita, Kansas, filed a patent in 1895 for a
"musical game device" designed to teach notation with
pictures depicting the words spelled out by note-names
(think B-A-G or B-E-E). Later that year, Sarah W.
Featherstone, a schoolteacher in Toledo, Ohio, filed a
patent for Nota Bene, which used a spinning wheel to
teach children rhythm. And in 1897, the enterpreneurial
Evelyn Fletcher of Toronto filed both Canadian and US
patents for a Music Block Game. Her "Fletcher Music
Method" would later be endorsed by luminaries such as John Philip Sousa and Hugo Riemann, and it was highly
popular with schoolteachers. This is just a small selection
of the names and devices that pop out of the archive.
In my experience searching historical patent records, one
is more likely to come across games designed by women
than by men. Bertha Harrison seems to have gotten that
right, at least!
Today, using gamification to teach music seems like a
no-brainer. Indeed, many music videogames have
become wildly popular—think instrument-based rhythm
games like Guitar Hero. While these games generally
teach synchronization, there are also plenty of music
theory games available to try online, such as ToneGym,
Solfege Story, or Chet — Ear Training. Although these
modern creations would have been unthinkable a
hundred years ago, these games are still part of an
unusual—and unusually female—tradition.
https://daily.jstor.org/the-hidden-history-of-women-game-designers/
In
the opening paragraph, the author states that
educational games "were all the rage" in the early
nineteenth century. The same paragraph describes a
rapidly expanding market for instructional card, dice, and
board games. Considering this context, mark the
alternative that presents the CORRECT meaning of the
expression "all the rage."
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279246
Inglês
Texto associado
The Hidden History of Women Game Designers
Educational games were all the rage in the early
ninteenth century. As the narrator of Sir Walter Scott's
1814 novel, Waverley, observed, "the history of England
is now reduced to a game at cards, the problems of
mathematics to puzzles and riddles." This bemusement
reflects the burgeoning industry of instructional card,
dice, and board games that sprang up in the late 1700s,
partly in response to changing attitudes towards juvenile
education outlined early on by the philosopher John
Locke a century before.
Women at the time were, of course, generally barred
from attending college and generally discouraged from
the pursuit of learning beyond acquiring the skills of a
governess. Yet the wave of enthusiasm for educational
games nevertheless created an opportunity for some
enterprising
women—despite significant structural
obstacles—to find an intellectual and creative outlet.
Standout figures in the history of game design include
Margaret Bryan, who directed a girl's school in
Blackheath in southeastern London. A writer on science
with a particular interest in astronomy, Bryan produced
the boardgame Science in Sport, or the Pleasures of
Astronomy in collaboration with the well-known game
publisher John Wallis.
This game, a variation on the staple of the Game of the
Goose (akin to Chutes and Ladders), requires players to
spin a teetotum and race their pieces along the board.
Most of the squares illustrate scientific phenomena,
explained in an accompanying rule booklet, but some
depict bad behavior, such as square six, which features
"The County Gaol...for those who attend to the motion of
Billiard Balls, more than to the motion of the Planets,"
and square twelve, which features "a blockhead." Landing on these meant losing a turn or worse, a player's
place on the board.
Learning the rules of music theory by rote could seem
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself to
gamification.
Other pioneering game designers include children's
author Alicia Catherine Mant, who also published an
astronomy-themed board game, while the ludic
inventions of the poet and schoolteacher Elizabeth
Rowse encompassed A Grammatical Game, in Rhyme,
by a Lady (1802) and Mythological Amusement (1804).
Perhaps the most creative arena for female game
designers, however, was music, and more specifically,
music theory. Among the middle and upper classes,
music was generally seen as a female accomplishment,
and teaching its rudiments to children was typically left to mothers, governesses, or schoolmistresses. Learning the
rules of music theory by rote could seem difficult and
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself
remarkably well to gamification.
The nineteenth century's best-known musical game
designer was the Edinburgh-based pianist and music
teacher Anne Young. In 1801, she received a royal
patent for a set of games intended to "render familiar and
impress upon the memory, the fundamental principles of
the science of music." The first British patent ever
granted for a game, it was also the only one awarded that
year to a female inventor, as David Ghere and Fred
Amram have discovered. Two years after the launch of
the Musical Games, Young, now the respectably married
Mrs.
Gunn, published a two-hundred-fifty page
companion treatise entitled An Introduction to Music,
which explained music theory fundamentals via
instructions for playing her Musical Games. The treatise
is organized as seven sections, each corresponding to a
different set of games, and includes a number of optional
variations, outlining twenty-two different games in total.
A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in
libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're
luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany, while
most of the nearly two hundred parts in each
game—pins, dice, plates, and counters—were carved out
of ivory and ebony. Priced originally at seven guineas,
which was more than the annual wages of a laborer at
the time, this game set would have been affordable only
for the very wealthy.
Unlike earlier musical dice games, which were designed
to encourage composition, Musical Games aimed to
teach the rudiments of theory. Some of the games that
can be played on the set involve racing, with players
competing to move their pieces up and down various
configurations on the board. Others involve the
acquisition of points for correct answers, tallied with
delicate ivory counters. A child following the treatise's
progression of games would engage many of the
fundamentals of music theory, ranging from notation
through more advanced topics in harmony including
chord resolution and modulation.
Young's invention haunted musical journals throughout
the nineteenth century, resurfacing from time to time in
newspaper queries, sometimes from readers intrigued by
the warm endorsement it got from her husband John
Gunn, a distinguished Scottish music pedagogue who
wroteinstructional treatises. (In his writings, Gunn
protested "without having ever previously heard the name
of the ingenious and scientific Inventor, I was struck with
the merits of these Games.") Interestingly, the Musical
Games reappear nearly a century later in the essay
"Games of Music," published in 1907 in the
London-based magazine The Musical Times by Bertha
Harrison, who was very likely the anti-suffrage activist
also known as Ethel Bertha Harrison. Harrison was
interested in music history—her earlier writings in The
Musical Times had treated topics such as child prodigies
and historic concert venues—but it was only in her essay on musical games that she revealed her political
leanings.
In
what may be one of the earliest pieces of
ludomusicology, the study of music and games,
Harrison's essay surveys the role of musical games from
the eighteenth century to her present day. Although she
ostensibly examines musical games in general, most of
her article is dedicated to Young, whom she
characterizes as a woman "possessed of an uncommon
order of mind." Harrison describes Young's games as "so
clever and ingenious, so full of nice detail, that all the
music games of the present day seem poor in design and
clumsy in execution in comparison with it."
However, the crux of Harrison's argument appears in a
subsequent paragraph, where she struggles to put a
positive spin on the striking disparity in the quality of
games designed by women and men, writing that "is a
curious and interesting fact that, among musical games,
those invented by women are very complicated and
extraordinarily full of detail, while those invented by men
are, with very rare exceptions, quite simple and generally
adaptations from other games. From this we may draw
one of two conclusions: either that in this particular line
woman has more originality than man, or that when she
begins to invent, her mind becomes so engrossed with
details as to lose sight of the main issue, and, in the
words of the proverb, she cannot see the wood for the
trees."
Conceding that women might be intrinsically better at
musical game design, Harrison immediately undercuts
this notion with the claim that women are overly
concerned with details, and that is why their games tend
to be more complex. The stereotype of the detail-oriented
woman, as exemplified in this example, is a trope that, as
Naomi Schor reminds us, has informed and limited
understandings of female ability for centuries.
Harrison's critique notwithstanding, the nineteenth
century saw many impressive music educational games
invented by women. The 1851 Great Exhibition in London
featured Gioco di Euterpe, (a game whose name invokes
the Greek goddess of music) designed by Abelinde
Prince and "intended to assist beginners in the
knowledge of the relative value of musical characters,
and to render them good timeists." The editor of The
Girl's Own Book (1869) described a game developed by
an anonymous female friend, entitled "Sir Samuel
Semibreve," which taught sight-singing and could be
ordered from a music shop in Middlesex.
Across the Atlantic, Abbie T. Hays, principal of a music
school in Wichita, Kansas, filed a patent in 1895 for a
"musical game device" designed to teach notation with
pictures depicting the words spelled out by note-names
(think B-A-G or B-E-E). Later that year, Sarah W.
Featherstone, a schoolteacher in Toledo, Ohio, filed a
patent for Nota Bene, which used a spinning wheel to
teach children rhythm. And in 1897, the enterpreneurial
Evelyn Fletcher of Toronto filed both Canadian and US
patents for a Music Block Game. Her "Fletcher Music
Method" would later be endorsed by luminaries such as John Philip Sousa and Hugo Riemann, and it was highly
popular with schoolteachers. This is just a small selection
of the names and devices that pop out of the archive.
In my experience searching historical patent records, one
is more likely to come across games designed by women
than by men. Bertha Harrison seems to have gotten that
right, at least!
Today, using gamification to teach music seems like a
no-brainer. Indeed, many music videogames have
become wildly popular—think instrument-based rhythm
games like Guitar Hero. While these games generally
teach synchronization, there are also plenty of music
theory games available to try online, such as ToneGym,
Solfege Story, or Chet — Ear Training. Although these
modern creations would have been unthinkable a
hundred years ago, these games are still part of an
unusual—and unusually female—tradition.
https://daily.jstor.org/the-hidden-history-of-women-game-designers/
Consider the following statements about the chronology
described in the article.
I. Anne Young received a royal patent in 1801.
II. She published her companion treatise two years later.
III. The patent had been granted before the treatise appeared.
IV. Her treatise has remained the first British patent ever granted for a game.
Mark the alternative that presents the propositions that are CORRECT.
I. Anne Young received a royal patent in 1801.
II. She published her companion treatise two years later.
III. The patent had been granted before the treatise appeared.
IV. Her treatise has remained the first British patent ever granted for a game.
Mark the alternative that presents the propositions that are CORRECT.
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279247
Inglês
Texto associado
The Hidden History of Women Game Designers
Educational games were all the rage in the early
ninteenth century. As the narrator of Sir Walter Scott's
1814 novel, Waverley, observed, "the history of England
is now reduced to a game at cards, the problems of
mathematics to puzzles and riddles." This bemusement
reflects the burgeoning industry of instructional card,
dice, and board games that sprang up in the late 1700s,
partly in response to changing attitudes towards juvenile
education outlined early on by the philosopher John
Locke a century before.
Women at the time were, of course, generally barred
from attending college and generally discouraged from
the pursuit of learning beyond acquiring the skills of a
governess. Yet the wave of enthusiasm for educational
games nevertheless created an opportunity for some
enterprising
women—despite significant structural
obstacles—to find an intellectual and creative outlet.
Standout figures in the history of game design include
Margaret Bryan, who directed a girl's school in
Blackheath in southeastern London. A writer on science
with a particular interest in astronomy, Bryan produced
the boardgame Science in Sport, or the Pleasures of
Astronomy in collaboration with the well-known game
publisher John Wallis.
This game, a variation on the staple of the Game of the
Goose (akin to Chutes and Ladders), requires players to
spin a teetotum and race their pieces along the board.
Most of the squares illustrate scientific phenomena,
explained in an accompanying rule booklet, but some
depict bad behavior, such as square six, which features
"The County Gaol...for those who attend to the motion of
Billiard Balls, more than to the motion of the Planets,"
and square twelve, which features "a blockhead." Landing on these meant losing a turn or worse, a player's
place on the board.
Learning the rules of music theory by rote could seem
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself to
gamification.
Other pioneering game designers include children's
author Alicia Catherine Mant, who also published an
astronomy-themed board game, while the ludic
inventions of the poet and schoolteacher Elizabeth
Rowse encompassed A Grammatical Game, in Rhyme,
by a Lady (1802) and Mythological Amusement (1804).
Perhaps the most creative arena for female game
designers, however, was music, and more specifically,
music theory. Among the middle and upper classes,
music was generally seen as a female accomplishment,
and teaching its rudiments to children was typically left to mothers, governesses, or schoolmistresses. Learning the
rules of music theory by rote could seem difficult and
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself
remarkably well to gamification.
The nineteenth century's best-known musical game
designer was the Edinburgh-based pianist and music
teacher Anne Young. In 1801, she received a royal
patent for a set of games intended to "render familiar and
impress upon the memory, the fundamental principles of
the science of music." The first British patent ever
granted for a game, it was also the only one awarded that
year to a female inventor, as David Ghere and Fred
Amram have discovered. Two years after the launch of
the Musical Games, Young, now the respectably married
Mrs.
Gunn, published a two-hundred-fifty page
companion treatise entitled An Introduction to Music,
which explained music theory fundamentals via
instructions for playing her Musical Games. The treatise
is organized as seven sections, each corresponding to a
different set of games, and includes a number of optional
variations, outlining twenty-two different games in total.
A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in
libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're
luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany, while
most of the nearly two hundred parts in each
game—pins, dice, plates, and counters—were carved out
of ivory and ebony. Priced originally at seven guineas,
which was more than the annual wages of a laborer at
the time, this game set would have been affordable only
for the very wealthy.
Unlike earlier musical dice games, which were designed
to encourage composition, Musical Games aimed to
teach the rudiments of theory. Some of the games that
can be played on the set involve racing, with players
competing to move their pieces up and down various
configurations on the board. Others involve the
acquisition of points for correct answers, tallied with
delicate ivory counters. A child following the treatise's
progression of games would engage many of the
fundamentals of music theory, ranging from notation
through more advanced topics in harmony including
chord resolution and modulation.
Young's invention haunted musical journals throughout
the nineteenth century, resurfacing from time to time in
newspaper queries, sometimes from readers intrigued by
the warm endorsement it got from her husband John
Gunn, a distinguished Scottish music pedagogue who
wroteinstructional treatises. (In his writings, Gunn
protested "without having ever previously heard the name
of the ingenious and scientific Inventor, I was struck with
the merits of these Games.") Interestingly, the Musical
Games reappear nearly a century later in the essay
"Games of Music," published in 1907 in the
London-based magazine The Musical Times by Bertha
Harrison, who was very likely the anti-suffrage activist
also known as Ethel Bertha Harrison. Harrison was
interested in music history—her earlier writings in The
Musical Times had treated topics such as child prodigies
and historic concert venues—but it was only in her essay on musical games that she revealed her political
leanings.
In
what may be one of the earliest pieces of
ludomusicology, the study of music and games,
Harrison's essay surveys the role of musical games from
the eighteenth century to her present day. Although she
ostensibly examines musical games in general, most of
her article is dedicated to Young, whom she
characterizes as a woman "possessed of an uncommon
order of mind." Harrison describes Young's games as "so
clever and ingenious, so full of nice detail, that all the
music games of the present day seem poor in design and
clumsy in execution in comparison with it."
However, the crux of Harrison's argument appears in a
subsequent paragraph, where she struggles to put a
positive spin on the striking disparity in the quality of
games designed by women and men, writing that "is a
curious and interesting fact that, among musical games,
those invented by women are very complicated and
extraordinarily full of detail, while those invented by men
are, with very rare exceptions, quite simple and generally
adaptations from other games. From this we may draw
one of two conclusions: either that in this particular line
woman has more originality than man, or that when she
begins to invent, her mind becomes so engrossed with
details as to lose sight of the main issue, and, in the
words of the proverb, she cannot see the wood for the
trees."
Conceding that women might be intrinsically better at
musical game design, Harrison immediately undercuts
this notion with the claim that women are overly
concerned with details, and that is why their games tend
to be more complex. The stereotype of the detail-oriented
woman, as exemplified in this example, is a trope that, as
Naomi Schor reminds us, has informed and limited
understandings of female ability for centuries.
Harrison's critique notwithstanding, the nineteenth
century saw many impressive music educational games
invented by women. The 1851 Great Exhibition in London
featured Gioco di Euterpe, (a game whose name invokes
the Greek goddess of music) designed by Abelinde
Prince and "intended to assist beginners in the
knowledge of the relative value of musical characters,
and to render them good timeists." The editor of The
Girl's Own Book (1869) described a game developed by
an anonymous female friend, entitled "Sir Samuel
Semibreve," which taught sight-singing and could be
ordered from a music shop in Middlesex.
Across the Atlantic, Abbie T. Hays, principal of a music
school in Wichita, Kansas, filed a patent in 1895 for a
"musical game device" designed to teach notation with
pictures depicting the words spelled out by note-names
(think B-A-G or B-E-E). Later that year, Sarah W.
Featherstone, a schoolteacher in Toledo, Ohio, filed a
patent for Nota Bene, which used a spinning wheel to
teach children rhythm. And in 1897, the enterpreneurial
Evelyn Fletcher of Toronto filed both Canadian and US
patents for a Music Block Game. Her "Fletcher Music
Method" would later be endorsed by luminaries such as John Philip Sousa and Hugo Riemann, and it was highly
popular with schoolteachers. This is just a small selection
of the names and devices that pop out of the archive.
In my experience searching historical patent records, one
is more likely to come across games designed by women
than by men. Bertha Harrison seems to have gotten that
right, at least!
Today, using gamification to teach music seems like a
no-brainer. Indeed, many music videogames have
become wildly popular—think instrument-based rhythm
games like Guitar Hero. While these games generally
teach synchronization, there are also plenty of music
theory games available to try online, such as ToneGym,
Solfege Story, or Chet — Ear Training. Although these
modern creations would have been unthinkable a
hundred years ago, these games are still part of an
unusual—and unusually female—tradition.
https://daily.jstor.org/the-hidden-history-of-women-game-designers/
An English teacher wants to adapt Anne Young's
educational principles to a language lesson. The
objective is to help students distinguish phrasal verbs
through
repeated
contextual
use,
collaborative
decision-making, and immediate feedback rather than
isolated memorization. Mark the alternative that presents
the CORRECT activity design.
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279248
Inglês
Texto associado
The Hidden History of Women Game Designers
Educational games were all the rage in the early
ninteenth century. As the narrator of Sir Walter Scott's
1814 novel, Waverley, observed, "the history of England
is now reduced to a game at cards, the problems of
mathematics to puzzles and riddles." This bemusement
reflects the burgeoning industry of instructional card,
dice, and board games that sprang up in the late 1700s,
partly in response to changing attitudes towards juvenile
education outlined early on by the philosopher John
Locke a century before.
Women at the time were, of course, generally barred
from attending college and generally discouraged from
the pursuit of learning beyond acquiring the skills of a
governess. Yet the wave of enthusiasm for educational
games nevertheless created an opportunity for some
enterprising
women—despite significant structural
obstacles—to find an intellectual and creative outlet.
Standout figures in the history of game design include
Margaret Bryan, who directed a girl's school in
Blackheath in southeastern London. A writer on science
with a particular interest in astronomy, Bryan produced
the boardgame Science in Sport, or the Pleasures of
Astronomy in collaboration with the well-known game
publisher John Wallis.
This game, a variation on the staple of the Game of the
Goose (akin to Chutes and Ladders), requires players to
spin a teetotum and race their pieces along the board.
Most of the squares illustrate scientific phenomena,
explained in an accompanying rule booklet, but some
depict bad behavior, such as square six, which features
"The County Gaol...for those who attend to the motion of
Billiard Balls, more than to the motion of the Planets,"
and square twelve, which features "a blockhead." Landing on these meant losing a turn or worse, a player's
place on the board.
Learning the rules of music theory by rote could seem
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself to
gamification.
Other pioneering game designers include children's
author Alicia Catherine Mant, who also published an
astronomy-themed board game, while the ludic
inventions of the poet and schoolteacher Elizabeth
Rowse encompassed A Grammatical Game, in Rhyme,
by a Lady (1802) and Mythological Amusement (1804).
Perhaps the most creative arena for female game
designers, however, was music, and more specifically,
music theory. Among the middle and upper classes,
music was generally seen as a female accomplishment,
and teaching its rudiments to children was typically left to mothers, governesses, or schoolmistresses. Learning the
rules of music theory by rote could seem difficult and
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself
remarkably well to gamification.
The nineteenth century's best-known musical game
designer was the Edinburgh-based pianist and music
teacher Anne Young. In 1801, she received a royal
patent for a set of games intended to "render familiar and
impress upon the memory, the fundamental principles of
the science of music." The first British patent ever
granted for a game, it was also the only one awarded that
year to a female inventor, as David Ghere and Fred
Amram have discovered. Two years after the launch of
the Musical Games, Young, now the respectably married
Mrs.
Gunn, published a two-hundred-fifty page
companion treatise entitled An Introduction to Music,
which explained music theory fundamentals via
instructions for playing her Musical Games. The treatise
is organized as seven sections, each corresponding to a
different set of games, and includes a number of optional
variations, outlining twenty-two different games in total.
A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in
libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're
luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany, while
most of the nearly two hundred parts in each
game—pins, dice, plates, and counters—were carved out
of ivory and ebony. Priced originally at seven guineas,
which was more than the annual wages of a laborer at
the time, this game set would have been affordable only
for the very wealthy.
Unlike earlier musical dice games, which were designed
to encourage composition, Musical Games aimed to
teach the rudiments of theory. Some of the games that
can be played on the set involve racing, with players
competing to move their pieces up and down various
configurations on the board. Others involve the
acquisition of points for correct answers, tallied with
delicate ivory counters. A child following the treatise's
progression of games would engage many of the
fundamentals of music theory, ranging from notation
through more advanced topics in harmony including
chord resolution and modulation.
Young's invention haunted musical journals throughout
the nineteenth century, resurfacing from time to time in
newspaper queries, sometimes from readers intrigued by
the warm endorsement it got from her husband John
Gunn, a distinguished Scottish music pedagogue who
wroteinstructional treatises. (In his writings, Gunn
protested "without having ever previously heard the name
of the ingenious and scientific Inventor, I was struck with
the merits of these Games.") Interestingly, the Musical
Games reappear nearly a century later in the essay
"Games of Music," published in 1907 in the
London-based magazine The Musical Times by Bertha
Harrison, who was very likely the anti-suffrage activist
also known as Ethel Bertha Harrison. Harrison was
interested in music history—her earlier writings in The
Musical Times had treated topics such as child prodigies
and historic concert venues—but it was only in her essay on musical games that she revealed her political
leanings.
In
what may be one of the earliest pieces of
ludomusicology, the study of music and games,
Harrison's essay surveys the role of musical games from
the eighteenth century to her present day. Although she
ostensibly examines musical games in general, most of
her article is dedicated to Young, whom she
characterizes as a woman "possessed of an uncommon
order of mind." Harrison describes Young's games as "so
clever and ingenious, so full of nice detail, that all the
music games of the present day seem poor in design and
clumsy in execution in comparison with it."
However, the crux of Harrison's argument appears in a
subsequent paragraph, where she struggles to put a
positive spin on the striking disparity in the quality of
games designed by women and men, writing that "is a
curious and interesting fact that, among musical games,
those invented by women are very complicated and
extraordinarily full of detail, while those invented by men
are, with very rare exceptions, quite simple and generally
adaptations from other games. From this we may draw
one of two conclusions: either that in this particular line
woman has more originality than man, or that when she
begins to invent, her mind becomes so engrossed with
details as to lose sight of the main issue, and, in the
words of the proverb, she cannot see the wood for the
trees."
Conceding that women might be intrinsically better at
musical game design, Harrison immediately undercuts
this notion with the claim that women are overly
concerned with details, and that is why their games tend
to be more complex. The stereotype of the detail-oriented
woman, as exemplified in this example, is a trope that, as
Naomi Schor reminds us, has informed and limited
understandings of female ability for centuries.
Harrison's critique notwithstanding, the nineteenth
century saw many impressive music educational games
invented by women. The 1851 Great Exhibition in London
featured Gioco di Euterpe, (a game whose name invokes
the Greek goddess of music) designed by Abelinde
Prince and "intended to assist beginners in the
knowledge of the relative value of musical characters,
and to render them good timeists." The editor of The
Girl's Own Book (1869) described a game developed by
an anonymous female friend, entitled "Sir Samuel
Semibreve," which taught sight-singing and could be
ordered from a music shop in Middlesex.
Across the Atlantic, Abbie T. Hays, principal of a music
school in Wichita, Kansas, filed a patent in 1895 for a
"musical game device" designed to teach notation with
pictures depicting the words spelled out by note-names
(think B-A-G or B-E-E). Later that year, Sarah W.
Featherstone, a schoolteacher in Toledo, Ohio, filed a
patent for Nota Bene, which used a spinning wheel to
teach children rhythm. And in 1897, the enterpreneurial
Evelyn Fletcher of Toronto filed both Canadian and US
patents for a Music Block Game. Her "Fletcher Music
Method" would later be endorsed by luminaries such as John Philip Sousa and Hugo Riemann, and it was highly
popular with schoolteachers. This is just a small selection
of the names and devices that pop out of the archive.
In my experience searching historical patent records, one
is more likely to come across games designed by women
than by men. Bertha Harrison seems to have gotten that
right, at least!
Today, using gamification to teach music seems like a
no-brainer. Indeed, many music videogames have
become wildly popular—think instrument-based rhythm
games like Guitar Hero. While these games generally
teach synchronization, there are also plenty of music
theory games available to try online, such as ToneGym,
Solfege Story, or Chet — Ear Training. Although these
modern creations would have been unthinkable a
hundred years ago, these games are still part of an
unusual—and unusually female—tradition.
https://daily.jstor.org/the-hidden-history-of-women-game-designers/
Read the excerpt:
"A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany..."
In this passage, the pronoun "they" refers to:
"A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany..."
In this passage, the pronoun "they" refers to:
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279249
Inglês
Texto associado
The Hidden History of Women Game Designers
Educational games were all the rage in the early
ninteenth century. As the narrator of Sir Walter Scott's
1814 novel, Waverley, observed, "the history of England
is now reduced to a game at cards, the problems of
mathematics to puzzles and riddles." This bemusement
reflects the burgeoning industry of instructional card,
dice, and board games that sprang up in the late 1700s,
partly in response to changing attitudes towards juvenile
education outlined early on by the philosopher John
Locke a century before.
Women at the time were, of course, generally barred
from attending college and generally discouraged from
the pursuit of learning beyond acquiring the skills of a
governess. Yet the wave of enthusiasm for educational
games nevertheless created an opportunity for some
enterprising
women—despite significant structural
obstacles—to find an intellectual and creative outlet.
Standout figures in the history of game design include
Margaret Bryan, who directed a girl's school in
Blackheath in southeastern London. A writer on science
with a particular interest in astronomy, Bryan produced
the boardgame Science in Sport, or the Pleasures of
Astronomy in collaboration with the well-known game
publisher John Wallis.
This game, a variation on the staple of the Game of the
Goose (akin to Chutes and Ladders), requires players to
spin a teetotum and race their pieces along the board.
Most of the squares illustrate scientific phenomena,
explained in an accompanying rule booklet, but some
depict bad behavior, such as square six, which features
"The County Gaol...for those who attend to the motion of
Billiard Balls, more than to the motion of the Planets,"
and square twelve, which features "a blockhead." Landing on these meant losing a turn or worse, a player's
place on the board.
Learning the rules of music theory by rote could seem
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself to
gamification.
Other pioneering game designers include children's
author Alicia Catherine Mant, who also published an
astronomy-themed board game, while the ludic
inventions of the poet and schoolteacher Elizabeth
Rowse encompassed A Grammatical Game, in Rhyme,
by a Lady (1802) and Mythological Amusement (1804).
Perhaps the most creative arena for female game
designers, however, was music, and more specifically,
music theory. Among the middle and upper classes,
music was generally seen as a female accomplishment,
and teaching its rudiments to children was typically left to mothers, governesses, or schoolmistresses. Learning the
rules of music theory by rote could seem difficult and
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself
remarkably well to gamification.
The nineteenth century's best-known musical game
designer was the Edinburgh-based pianist and music
teacher Anne Young. In 1801, she received a royal
patent for a set of games intended to "render familiar and
impress upon the memory, the fundamental principles of
the science of music." The first British patent ever
granted for a game, it was also the only one awarded that
year to a female inventor, as David Ghere and Fred
Amram have discovered. Two years after the launch of
the Musical Games, Young, now the respectably married
Mrs.
Gunn, published a two-hundred-fifty page
companion treatise entitled An Introduction to Music,
which explained music theory fundamentals via
instructions for playing her Musical Games. The treatise
is organized as seven sections, each corresponding to a
different set of games, and includes a number of optional
variations, outlining twenty-two different games in total.
A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in
libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're
luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany, while
most of the nearly two hundred parts in each
game—pins, dice, plates, and counters—were carved out
of ivory and ebony. Priced originally at seven guineas,
which was more than the annual wages of a laborer at
the time, this game set would have been affordable only
for the very wealthy.
Unlike earlier musical dice games, which were designed
to encourage composition, Musical Games aimed to
teach the rudiments of theory. Some of the games that
can be played on the set involve racing, with players
competing to move their pieces up and down various
configurations on the board. Others involve the
acquisition of points for correct answers, tallied with
delicate ivory counters. A child following the treatise's
progression of games would engage many of the
fundamentals of music theory, ranging from notation
through more advanced topics in harmony including
chord resolution and modulation.
Young's invention haunted musical journals throughout
the nineteenth century, resurfacing from time to time in
newspaper queries, sometimes from readers intrigued by
the warm endorsement it got from her husband John
Gunn, a distinguished Scottish music pedagogue who
wroteinstructional treatises. (In his writings, Gunn
protested "without having ever previously heard the name
of the ingenious and scientific Inventor, I was struck with
the merits of these Games.") Interestingly, the Musical
Games reappear nearly a century later in the essay
"Games of Music," published in 1907 in the
London-based magazine The Musical Times by Bertha
Harrison, who was very likely the anti-suffrage activist
also known as Ethel Bertha Harrison. Harrison was
interested in music history—her earlier writings in The
Musical Times had treated topics such as child prodigies
and historic concert venues—but it was only in her essay on musical games that she revealed her political
leanings.
In
what may be one of the earliest pieces of
ludomusicology, the study of music and games,
Harrison's essay surveys the role of musical games from
the eighteenth century to her present day. Although she
ostensibly examines musical games in general, most of
her article is dedicated to Young, whom she
characterizes as a woman "possessed of an uncommon
order of mind." Harrison describes Young's games as "so
clever and ingenious, so full of nice detail, that all the
music games of the present day seem poor in design and
clumsy in execution in comparison with it."
However, the crux of Harrison's argument appears in a
subsequent paragraph, where she struggles to put a
positive spin on the striking disparity in the quality of
games designed by women and men, writing that "is a
curious and interesting fact that, among musical games,
those invented by women are very complicated and
extraordinarily full of detail, while those invented by men
are, with very rare exceptions, quite simple and generally
adaptations from other games. From this we may draw
one of two conclusions: either that in this particular line
woman has more originality than man, or that when she
begins to invent, her mind becomes so engrossed with
details as to lose sight of the main issue, and, in the
words of the proverb, she cannot see the wood for the
trees."
Conceding that women might be intrinsically better at
musical game design, Harrison immediately undercuts
this notion with the claim that women are overly
concerned with details, and that is why their games tend
to be more complex. The stereotype of the detail-oriented
woman, as exemplified in this example, is a trope that, as
Naomi Schor reminds us, has informed and limited
understandings of female ability for centuries.
Harrison's critique notwithstanding, the nineteenth
century saw many impressive music educational games
invented by women. The 1851 Great Exhibition in London
featured Gioco di Euterpe, (a game whose name invokes
the Greek goddess of music) designed by Abelinde
Prince and "intended to assist beginners in the
knowledge of the relative value of musical characters,
and to render them good timeists." The editor of The
Girl's Own Book (1869) described a game developed by
an anonymous female friend, entitled "Sir Samuel
Semibreve," which taught sight-singing and could be
ordered from a music shop in Middlesex.
Across the Atlantic, Abbie T. Hays, principal of a music
school in Wichita, Kansas, filed a patent in 1895 for a
"musical game device" designed to teach notation with
pictures depicting the words spelled out by note-names
(think B-A-G or B-E-E). Later that year, Sarah W.
Featherstone, a schoolteacher in Toledo, Ohio, filed a
patent for Nota Bene, which used a spinning wheel to
teach children rhythm. And in 1897, the enterpreneurial
Evelyn Fletcher of Toronto filed both Canadian and US
patents for a Music Block Game. Her "Fletcher Music
Method" would later be endorsed by luminaries such as John Philip Sousa and Hugo Riemann, and it was highly
popular with schoolteachers. This is just a small selection
of the names and devices that pop out of the archive.
In my experience searching historical patent records, one
is more likely to come across games designed by women
than by men. Bertha Harrison seems to have gotten that
right, at least!
Today, using gamification to teach music seems like a
no-brainer. Indeed, many music videogames have
become wildly popular—think instrument-based rhythm
games like Guitar Hero. While these games generally
teach synchronization, there are also plenty of music
theory games available to try online, such as ToneGym,
Solfege Story, or Chet — Ear Training. Although these
modern creations would have been unthinkable a
hundred years ago, these games are still part of an
unusual—and unusually female—tradition.
https://daily.jstor.org/the-hidden-history-of-women-game-designers/
The article explains that an industry of instructional
games "sprang up" in the late eighteenth century. The
verb phrase describes the appearance of a new
commercial and educational activity in response to
changing ideas about childhood education. Mark the
alternative that replaces "sprang up" without changing the
meaning of the passage.
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279250
Inglês
Texto associado
The Hidden History of Women Game Designers
Educational games were all the rage in the early
ninteenth century. As the narrator of Sir Walter Scott's
1814 novel, Waverley, observed, "the history of England
is now reduced to a game at cards, the problems of
mathematics to puzzles and riddles." This bemusement
reflects the burgeoning industry of instructional card,
dice, and board games that sprang up in the late 1700s,
partly in response to changing attitudes towards juvenile
education outlined early on by the philosopher John
Locke a century before.
Women at the time were, of course, generally barred
from attending college and generally discouraged from
the pursuit of learning beyond acquiring the skills of a
governess. Yet the wave of enthusiasm for educational
games nevertheless created an opportunity for some
enterprising
women—despite significant structural
obstacles—to find an intellectual and creative outlet.
Standout figures in the history of game design include
Margaret Bryan, who directed a girl's school in
Blackheath in southeastern London. A writer on science
with a particular interest in astronomy, Bryan produced
the boardgame Science in Sport, or the Pleasures of
Astronomy in collaboration with the well-known game
publisher John Wallis.
This game, a variation on the staple of the Game of the
Goose (akin to Chutes and Ladders), requires players to
spin a teetotum and race their pieces along the board.
Most of the squares illustrate scientific phenomena,
explained in an accompanying rule booklet, but some
depict bad behavior, such as square six, which features
"The County Gaol...for those who attend to the motion of
Billiard Balls, more than to the motion of the Planets,"
and square twelve, which features "a blockhead." Landing on these meant losing a turn or worse, a player's
place on the board.
Learning the rules of music theory by rote could seem
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself to
gamification.
Other pioneering game designers include children's
author Alicia Catherine Mant, who also published an
astronomy-themed board game, while the ludic
inventions of the poet and schoolteacher Elizabeth
Rowse encompassed A Grammatical Game, in Rhyme,
by a Lady (1802) and Mythological Amusement (1804).
Perhaps the most creative arena for female game
designers, however, was music, and more specifically,
music theory. Among the middle and upper classes,
music was generally seen as a female accomplishment,
and teaching its rudiments to children was typically left to mothers, governesses, or schoolmistresses. Learning the
rules of music theory by rote could seem difficult and
tedious. But the subject itself—with its principles,
prohibitions, and occasional exceptions—lent itself
remarkably well to gamification.
The nineteenth century's best-known musical game
designer was the Edinburgh-based pianist and music
teacher Anne Young. In 1801, she received a royal
patent for a set of games intended to "render familiar and
impress upon the memory, the fundamental principles of
the science of music." The first British patent ever
granted for a game, it was also the only one awarded that
year to a female inventor, as David Ghere and Fred
Amram have discovered. Two years after the launch of
the Musical Games, Young, now the respectably married
Mrs.
Gunn, published a two-hundred-fifty page
companion treatise entitled An Introduction to Music,
which explained music theory fundamentals via
instructions for playing her Musical Games. The treatise
is organized as seven sections, each corresponding to a
different set of games, and includes a number of optional
variations, outlining twenty-two different games in total.
A handful of Young's Musical Games can be found in
libraries, museums, and private collections today. They're
luxury items: the boards were made of mahogany, while
most of the nearly two hundred parts in each
game—pins, dice, plates, and counters—were carved out
of ivory and ebony. Priced originally at seven guineas,
which was more than the annual wages of a laborer at
the time, this game set would have been affordable only
for the very wealthy.
Unlike earlier musical dice games, which were designed
to encourage composition, Musical Games aimed to
teach the rudiments of theory. Some of the games that
can be played on the set involve racing, with players
competing to move their pieces up and down various
configurations on the board. Others involve the
acquisition of points for correct answers, tallied with
delicate ivory counters. A child following the treatise's
progression of games would engage many of the
fundamentals of music theory, ranging from notation
through more advanced topics in harmony including
chord resolution and modulation.
Young's invention haunted musical journals throughout
the nineteenth century, resurfacing from time to time in
newspaper queries, sometimes from readers intrigued by
the warm endorsement it got from her husband John
Gunn, a distinguished Scottish music pedagogue who
wroteinstructional treatises. (In his writings, Gunn
protested "without having ever previously heard the name
of the ingenious and scientific Inventor, I was struck with
the merits of these Games.") Interestingly, the Musical
Games reappear nearly a century later in the essay
"Games of Music," published in 1907 in the
London-based magazine The Musical Times by Bertha
Harrison, who was very likely the anti-suffrage activist
also known as Ethel Bertha Harrison. Harrison was
interested in music history—her earlier writings in The
Musical Times had treated topics such as child prodigies
and historic concert venues—but it was only in her essay on musical games that she revealed her political
leanings.
In
what may be one of the earliest pieces of
ludomusicology, the study of music and games,
Harrison's essay surveys the role of musical games from
the eighteenth century to her present day. Although she
ostensibly examines musical games in general, most of
her article is dedicated to Young, whom she
characterizes as a woman "possessed of an uncommon
order of mind." Harrison describes Young's games as "so
clever and ingenious, so full of nice detail, that all the
music games of the present day seem poor in design and
clumsy in execution in comparison with it."
However, the crux of Harrison's argument appears in a
subsequent paragraph, where she struggles to put a
positive spin on the striking disparity in the quality of
games designed by women and men, writing that "is a
curious and interesting fact that, among musical games,
those invented by women are very complicated and
extraordinarily full of detail, while those invented by men
are, with very rare exceptions, quite simple and generally
adaptations from other games. From this we may draw
one of two conclusions: either that in this particular line
woman has more originality than man, or that when she
begins to invent, her mind becomes so engrossed with
details as to lose sight of the main issue, and, in the
words of the proverb, she cannot see the wood for the
trees."
Conceding that women might be intrinsically better at
musical game design, Harrison immediately undercuts
this notion with the claim that women are overly
concerned with details, and that is why their games tend
to be more complex. The stereotype of the detail-oriented
woman, as exemplified in this example, is a trope that, as
Naomi Schor reminds us, has informed and limited
understandings of female ability for centuries.
Harrison's critique notwithstanding, the nineteenth
century saw many impressive music educational games
invented by women. The 1851 Great Exhibition in London
featured Gioco di Euterpe, (a game whose name invokes
the Greek goddess of music) designed by Abelinde
Prince and "intended to assist beginners in the
knowledge of the relative value of musical characters,
and to render them good timeists." The editor of The
Girl's Own Book (1869) described a game developed by
an anonymous female friend, entitled "Sir Samuel
Semibreve," which taught sight-singing and could be
ordered from a music shop in Middlesex.
Across the Atlantic, Abbie T. Hays, principal of a music
school in Wichita, Kansas, filed a patent in 1895 for a
"musical game device" designed to teach notation with
pictures depicting the words spelled out by note-names
(think B-A-G or B-E-E). Later that year, Sarah W.
Featherstone, a schoolteacher in Toledo, Ohio, filed a
patent for Nota Bene, which used a spinning wheel to
teach children rhythm. And in 1897, the enterpreneurial
Evelyn Fletcher of Toronto filed both Canadian and US
patents for a Music Block Game. Her "Fletcher Music
Method" would later be endorsed by luminaries such as John Philip Sousa and Hugo Riemann, and it was highly
popular with schoolteachers. This is just a small selection
of the names and devices that pop out of the archive.
In my experience searching historical patent records, one
is more likely to come across games designed by women
than by men. Bertha Harrison seems to have gotten that
right, at least!
Today, using gamification to teach music seems like a
no-brainer. Indeed, many music videogames have
become wildly popular—think instrument-based rhythm
games like Guitar Hero. While these games generally
teach synchronization, there are also plenty of music
theory games available to try online, such as ToneGym,
Solfege Story, or Chet — Ear Training. Although these
modern creations would have been unthinkable a
hundred years ago, these games are still part of an
unusual—and unusually female—tradition.
https://daily.jstor.org/the-hidden-history-of-women-game-designers/
The article states that Anne Young's game set cost more
than a laborer's annual wages and "would have been
affordable only for the very wealthy." The modal
construction expresses a conclusion based on historical
economic evidence. Mark the alternative that presents
the CORRECT interpretation of "would have been
affordable."
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279251
Pedagogia
Ao consolidar os resultados bimestrais, a equipe docente
de uma escola constata que os instrumentos aplicados
vêm servindo para hierarquizar as turmas e para justificar
decisões de retenção, sem que os dados obtidos
retornem ao planejamento das aulas. Considerando a distinção entre avaliação tomada como meio e avaliação
tomada como fim, tal como delineada no texto, é
CORRETO afirmar que a reorientação técnica do
trabalho avaliativo dessa equipe assenta-se em:
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279252
Pedagogia
A leitura piagetiana do desenvolvimento articula
mecanismos funcionais invariantes a estruturas que se
transformam ao longo dos períodos. Com base no texto
e na teoria psicogenética, analise as sentenças abaixo:
I. A assimilação incorpora o dado novo aos esquemas já disponíveis, preservando a organização mental então vigente.
II. A acomodação reorganiza os esquemas do sujeito quando o objeto resiste à incorporação pelas estruturas atuais.
III. A equilibração majorante consiste no retorno do sujeito ao estado de equilíbrio anterior à perturbação sofrida.
IV. O período operatório-concreto caracteriza-se pela dedução a partir de enunciados hipotéticos sem suporte material.
É CORRETO o que se afirma em:
I. A assimilação incorpora o dado novo aos esquemas já disponíveis, preservando a organização mental então vigente.
II. A acomodação reorganiza os esquemas do sujeito quando o objeto resiste à incorporação pelas estruturas atuais.
III. A equilibração majorante consiste no retorno do sujeito ao estado de equilíbrio anterior à perturbação sofrida.
IV. O período operatório-concreto caracteriza-se pela dedução a partir de enunciados hipotéticos sem suporte material.
É CORRETO o que se afirma em:
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279253
Pedagogia
A proposta de avaliação mediadora formulada por
Jussara Hoffmann redefine o lugar do erro, do registro e
da intervenção docente no acompanhamento da
aprendizagem. Sobre essa proposta, julgue as
afirmações abaixo como Verdadeiras (V) ou Falsas (F):
( ) A correção de tarefas cumpre função mediadora quando o registro do erro encerra o processo, dispensando nova oportunidade de elaboração.
( ) A mediação avaliativa supõe que o professor interprete as respostas do estudante como hipóteses provisórias em processo de construção.
( ) O acompanhamento contínuo das produções orienta a intervenção do professor antes que se atribua qualquer resultado de caráter final.
( ) A avaliação mediadora recusa a classificação como núcleo do ato de avaliar, sem eliminar o registro sistemático do percurso do estudante.
Assinale a alternativa com a sequência CORRETA, de cima para baixo:
( ) A correção de tarefas cumpre função mediadora quando o registro do erro encerra o processo, dispensando nova oportunidade de elaboração.
( ) A mediação avaliativa supõe que o professor interprete as respostas do estudante como hipóteses provisórias em processo de construção.
( ) O acompanhamento contínuo das produções orienta a intervenção do professor antes que se atribua qualquer resultado de caráter final.
( ) A avaliação mediadora recusa a classificação como núcleo do ato de avaliar, sem eliminar o registro sistemático do percurso do estudante.
Assinale a alternativa com a sequência CORRETA, de cima para baixo:
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279254
Português
Solicitada a escrever a palavra CAVALO, uma criança
registra AAO e, ao reler o que produziu, faz corresponder
uma letra a cada sílaba pronunciada. Semanas depois,
solicitada a escrever BONECA, ela registra BOECA.
Conforme a psicogênese da língua escrita, é CORRETO
afirmar que os dois registros indicam, respectivamente:
Ano: 2026
Banca:
IGEDUC
Órgão:
Prefeitura de Altos - PI
Prova:
IGEDUC - 2026 - Prefeitura de Altos - PI - Professor Língua Inglesa |
Q4279255
Pedagogia
Analise a afirmativa abaixo:
O modelo que descreve a integração das tecnologias digitais ao ensino por meio de uma escala progressiva, cujo primeiro patamar corresponde à simples troca de um recurso analógico por um equivalente digital e cujo patamar mais elevado corresponde à proposição de tarefas antes inviáveis sem o suporte tecnológico, é denominado _________ .
Assinale a alternativa que preenche CORRETAMENTE a lacuna:
O modelo que descreve a integração das tecnologias digitais ao ensino por meio de uma escala progressiva, cujo primeiro patamar corresponde à simples troca de um recurso analógico por um equivalente digital e cujo patamar mais elevado corresponde à proposição de tarefas antes inviáveis sem o suporte tecnológico, é denominado _________ .
Assinale a alternativa que preenche CORRETAMENTE a lacuna:
Conheça nossos planos