Design-based research (DBR) is a methodology used to study learning in environments that are designed and systematically changed by the researcher. The goal of DBR is to engage the close study of learning as it unfolds within a particular context that contains one or more theoretically inspired innovations and then to develop new theories, artifacts, and practices that can be used to inform research and learning in other related contexts beyond the one classroom being studied. In DBR, research improves practice at the same time as it results in fundamental research findings that can be generalized. The widespread use of DBR by learning scientists demonstrates the field’s commitment to impacting classroom practice, and is consistent with a focus on complex learning environments that involve many people in situated social practices.

Over the last decade we have seen video games grow in popularity, becoming one of the most influential forms of entertainment in the last century. According to the Entertainment Software Association (2009), at least 68 percent of American households play computer and video games, and the number of years that adults have played video games averages 12 years. Other surveys also have demonstrated that video gaming as a leisurely pursuit is pervasive: 97 percent of youth play video games and 53 percent of adults also play video games (Lenhart, Jones, & Macgill, 2008; Lenhart et al., 2008). Clearly, video games are engaging to diverse populations, and for this reason alone, many educators are interested in leveraging technologies and methodologies to support learning. However, games are more than fun, and Gee (2003/2007) argues that it is their potential to support meaningful learning that makes them truly of interest to educators. There are many reasons that educators should care about video games, including their noted discursive richness, depth of collaborative inquiry, complexity of game play, opportunities for consequentiality, rich perception-action cycles, exploration of situated identities, and the complex forms of learning and participation that can occur during game play (Gee, 2003/2007; Salen & Zimmerman, 2004; Shaffer et al., 2005; Squire, 2006; Steinkuehler 2006; Shaffer, 2007; Thomas & Brown, 2006).

We have reached a challenging junction at which, on the one hand, teachers and schools face increased pressure to prepare students for standardized tests, whereas, on the other hand, they face a generation of students who regard the school curriculum as largely irrelevant to their own lives. It has become all too common to develop curricula and teach domain content distinct from the people, places, and situations through which the content has meaning. While it is expected that the information learned will somehow, later, be connected to those situations in which it is useful and meaningful, this is rarely what occurs. All too often the knowledge students “acquire” in schools remains inert (Whitehead, 1929), something demonstrated on a test in a school context where it can be traded for a grade but not applied to a situation in which it has intrinsic worth (Lave, 1991, 1997; Wenger, 1998).

Unless we begin to engage youth in rich situations that add meaning to disciplinary concepts – as part of the learning process – the content of schools will be perceived as a thing to be acquired and exchanged for a test score (having exchange value) and not as a useful tool that has direct functional value in the world or to the learner.

At a recent conference, a clinical psychologist who works with gifted students engaged the first author in an exciting and challenging conversation. As we discussed specific research and case studies involving gifted children, we realized that we were talking almost exclusively about the importance of context in defining and addressing giftedness. During the rest of the conference, we noticed the role of context in talent development in every session we attended. On the first author's return home, one question kept leaping into his mind: If the need to consider context comes up in most research sessions and so many practical applications, why don't we spend more time exploring its role in theories of giftedness? In this chapter, we explore the role of context in some classic and contemporary theories and models of giftedness, propose an alternative view, and explore the practical implications of that perspective.

HOW SHOULD WE CONCEPTUALIZE GIFTEDNESS AND TALENT?

Defining terms is very important in conceptual discussions such as those included in this volume. The need for precise definitions is especially critical when dealing with constructs such as creativity, intelligence, and talent, given the wide range of commonly used definitions for these terms. The discussion in this chapter relies on a definition drawn from the following conceptualization of creativity:

Design-based research (DBR) is used to study learning in environments which are designed and systematically changed by the researcher. The goal of DBR is to use the close study of a single learning environment, usually as it passes through multiple iterations and as it occurs in naturalistic contexts, to develop new theories, artifacts, and practices that can be generalized to other schools and classrooms. In describing design-based research, Cobb et al. (2003) state:

This design process allows the researcher to move beyond simply understanding the world as it is, and involves working to change it in useful ways with the broader goal of examining how these systematic changes influence learning and practice (Barab & Squire, 2004). It is this innovative aspect of design-based research that makes it such a useful methodology for advancing new theory and practice.

One way of understanding the focus of design-based research is in terms of Pasteur's Quadrant (Stokes, 1997; see Figure 10.1). In this quadrant model for characterizing scientific research, the upper-left-hand cell consists of basic research for the sole purpose of understanding without an eye toward practical use.

Currently, numerous educators and policy makers are advocating a move away from teacher-centered models of instruction and toward more learner-centered and community-based models. However, at present the word “community” is at risk of losing its meaning. We have little appreciation and few criteria for distinguishing between a community of learners and a group of students learning collaboratively (Barab & Duffy, 2000; Grossman, Wineburg, & Woolworth, 2000; Wineburg & Grossman, 1998). Given the proliferation of terms such as communities of learners, discourse communities, learning communities, knowledge-building communities, school communities, and communities of practice, it is clear that

Too little of the education literature provides clear criteria for what does and does not constitute community; the term is too often employed as a slogan rather than as an analytical category. We also know little about the educational value of employing a community model for supporting learning.

The idea of “virtual communities” has captured popular, as well as scholarly, attention. Numerous websites and dot.com companies advertise their “online communities.” In hundreds of books and articles, virtual communities are championed by educators, cognitive scientists, sociologists, anthropologists, computer scientists, and even CEOs. This outpouring of interest takes place in an America that is increasingly concerned about the loss of face-to-face community (Putnam, 2001). Advocates of online communities hope that by leveraging technology, they can recreate a “we” that has steadily eroded into many isolated “I's.” There is confusion, though, about the definition of a virtual community, which includes anything from a tight-knit group of people who share important parts of their lives on a day-to-day basis to an amorphous chat group that can be joined (and left) by anyone with a valid password. Many educators are participating in this movement as well, exploring the educational value of employing a “community” model for supporting learning. The idea is that through participating in a community, novices can learn through collaboration with others and by working alongside more experienced members.

Currently, many educators are adopting community of practice theory (CoP) as a framework for designing environments to support learning (Lave & Wenger, 1991; Wenger, 1998). An assumption underlying community of practice theory is that learning occurs not only as a cognitive change in the learner but also as a social trajectory within a group. The social identities of learners change as the learners become recognized as experts within a social group that shares a set of practices. Wenger uses the example of insurance claims processors to illustrate how communities of practice work. The actual practice of claims processors is as much a product of the informal social networks and war stories of experienced members as it is a product of the formal procedures mandated by the company.

Not surprisingly, CoP as a descriptive theory has been applied as a design framework for online learning in addition to an analysis framework for examining workplaces bounded by a common location (Johnson, 2001; Schwen & Hara, this volume). The hope is to combine the information sharing and shared enterprises that characterize physical CoPs, along with characteristics of longstanding communities that have emerged on the Internet. Although the definitions of Internet community differ, most of the work on online communities makes a distinction between groups of people forming cohesive social structures in an online space and groups of people who just happen to use an online space (Barab, 2003).