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Don’t cry for me, academia: gamifying the early career experience

By kiera.obrien, 13 January, 2026
Wajeehah Aayeshah created the online card game Academic Tears to boost empathy for early career academics, and explored a new way of communicating research. Here’s how she did it
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“Cancel your weekend trip to revise and resubmit your research paper.”

“Draw a line in the sand: no more work on weekends. Deadlines start with dead for a reason.”

“Stress triggers migraines. The doctor recommends sleep. Start sleeping and resting properly.”

If I gave you these three options, which one would you pick? These choices are part of an online card game called Academic Tears, which is based on a research project with early career academics (ECAs).

As ECAs, there are multiple factors affecting our careers, such as the availability of jobs, the changing nature of workloads, funding, governmental policies and technological trends. Factor in the effects of a pandemic – boom! You end up with a group of people suffering from escalated levels of job uncertainty, increased workload and high levels of stress on mental and physical health. 

This is valid at all levels of academia. However, it has a tremendous impact on those at early career level in particular. They have less material to prove their worth in an increasingly hostile higher education sector. Ongoing job precarity, large workloads and cut-throat competition for a handful of opportunities are expected aspects of post-PhD life. However, Covid-19 and its lingering effects have made it a whole lot worse. I know this, both through my own experiences as an ECA during the pandemic but also as a researcher talking to other ECAs about their Covid-19 experiences.

Pandemic struggles

During the lockdowns, we discussed the panic that comes from not knowing where our next pay cheque will come from; the existential crisis around our abilities and life choices; the inevitable changes to our research and career; the Zoom fatigue. It wasn’t all doom and gloom though, and that is the point.  

We laughed about family doing silly things behind us during online video calls. In true pandemic-era fashion, a lot of conversations included baking: someone nailed the art of nurturing long-term sourdough culture after years of failure. In a collaborative workshop, at one point we all cried, speaking about the songs we listened to and what they reminded us of. 

Of course, these weren’t naïve “we’re all in it together” discussions. Talking to these ECAs, who were mostly from Global North countries, it was very clear how we really weren’t together. 

As a researcher, I didn’t want to write an academic paper about these insights alone, for various reasons. For my work, I had to read so many academic articles that I was a little bored of the monotony of everyday academic writing. I had been taking some creative writing training and was itching to try out storytelling from real life.

Furthermore, I wanted these beautiful, powerful stories of resilience and kindness to be told in a way that can engage academics and non-academics. The immersive experience of gaming has a very different type of engagement to reading an academic text. James Paul Gee, the father of video games studies, has been talking about this for the past two decades. He argues that the players are considered producers and not just readers.  You could argue that creative writing has this power as well, allowing readers to engage deeply. Hence, we can identify the game as a non-traditional research output

Between 2021 and 2022, I interviewed and collaborated with more than 40 ECAs to explore the everyday reality of their lives. This game is a creative way to develop empathy and awareness about how it feels to be an ECA. It allows fellow scholars to feel a sense of solidarity with these highly precarious members of the academic community. 

How the game works

You are offered three cards and you get to choose one. This happens a few times for you to be able to curate your own journey of choice. The change in your curated career happens in the form of two “twist” cards. These may completely change your direction or help you boost it. The game has a dark sense of humour. There isn’t a win-win result because the system in which ECAs exist doesn’t allow for winners – only survivors.

The ideal academic response to “which one will you choose?” should be “what is the context?” We have all had to pick each of these options at a certain point in our life. We have had to choose between making that revision, taking that trip – or getting some sleep. Our choices will influence the kind of academic pathway we will take. But working hard is not enough to become the type of academic we want to be in the exact field we want. 

When creating this game, I had a wonderful team of sounding boards for my ideas, including game developers Charlie Kenihan and Nick Loki and artists Ayesha Hassan and Camilla Eustance. This was all done online. One very important reason I was able to create this game was the funding that I received from the researcher development unit at the University of Melbourne. I was granted a decent amount of money to spend on artwork and game development. Without this team, it would have been more of a rudimentary game with basic graphics and game design.

I also had a few trustworthy people pilot test it for me. This helped make the game design clearer for a diverse audience. Since the game launch, several players have told me that the game was very relatable – maybe too close to reality for them – and how it made them laugh and cry.

The peak epidemic time for Covid-19 has passed but its effects are ongoing. However, universities have an opportunity to improve the toxic culture that the pandemic exposed. They really need to listen and pay attention to the needs, challenges and concerns of ECAs. We need a supportive community that offers them secure work and funding. 

In researching, developing and writing about this game, through my role in third space academia and diversity and inclusivity leadership, I hope to persuade universities to give more thought to policies around ECAs. If each academic supports a couple of ECAs and advocates on their behalf, it can make a huge difference. These hard-working, resilient people are our foundations and our future – let’s show them a little more consideration. 

This weekend, I am going to choose: “Draw a line in the sand, no more work on weekends. Deadlines start with dead for a reason.” What about you?  

Wajeehah Aayeshah is lecturer in curriculum design at the University of Melbourne.

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Wajeehah Aayeshah created the online card game Academic Tears to boost empathy for early career academics, and explored a new way of communicating research. Here’s how she did it

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