Hanna, We’re Going to School
By @Kastel
Remarks Just After Playing
Before I start a game, I have no idea why a work is given a certain title. Sometimes I wonder if it’s just some vibe or if the title itself is going to slam into me when I’m done playing.
This is an excellent title, and I feel like it works well to introduce the story, and to wrap it up, as I re-read it after completing a path.
This is also very much a character-driven game, so it was a bit difficult for me to understand, at times, but Kastel seems to know were these spots would be, and had written in some useful context from the protagonist.
Also, I really wanted to review one of Kastel’s games, but I will admit that there is a certain amount of anxiety involved, where a White person reviews a game strongly depicting what is clearly an experience from a Chinese background. In very complex ways, there were messages and interactions which really resonated with me, but I also have to remember (and remind readers) that these resonances are filtered through the undeniable fact that I had specifically-different experiences, due my own background.
There are many aspects about this that I deeply appreciate, though, and I want to talk about them. After asking around a bit, the author has given me the encouraging all-clear, and others have reinforced the idea that this is still worth posting, so uh… here goes!
Remarks on Choice-Based Games
I know this is not how a choice-based game is supposed to be enjoyed, but I have a lot of difficulty exploring alternative paths once I reach an ending. A lot of choices will have starkly-different portrayals of a protagonist, and I usually find myself feeling incredibly uneasy when going down other paths. Oftentimes, I don’t understand or click with any of the choices offered, and I watch like an outside observer as the protagonist carries on with their own convictions.
So when I encounter a story where I feel like there are choices I can identify with, I get an opportunity to become immersed, but this typically only lasts for a single path of branches.
With this said, there were a few specific points where I would have decided either way, which is incredibly rare for me in this kind of game, so I intend to check these out another time.
This review only covers a single path, though, and I wanted to make that clear. The protagonist and other characters might have wildly different behaviors and outcomes in the other paths, but I would still prefer to examine everything from the perspective of this single path, in particular, as the kind of reviews I’m accustomed to will focus on a specific “playthrough”.
The Writing
For reasons which will be clear later, I’m going to start by quickly discussing the writing and interface of this work.
Kastel does an excellent job of providing brief snippets of one or two words, which can be expanded in detail, should the reader’s curiosity compel accordingly. In static prose, a story will present you with long blocks of text, which is expected, and something which Twine has the opportunity to question, and Kastel has done some exploring in this direction.
Passages are typically summaries, where the protagonist gives the player the bare-bones explanation, like how someone might retell a memory while skipping over certain details. Once the player has a clear idea of the information’s layout, specific phrases can be poked for more detail and clarification, which add onto the passage. As in our “retelling” metaphor, this is a listener asking the speaker to give more specifics, ask for clarification, or ask for skeptical reasons.
The final result is you get the same volume of text as you find in static fiction, but your curiosity is allowed to guide you.
Each passage isn’t particularly long, either, which gives the whole work this feeling of walking alongside the player, instead of running the risk of overwhelming. The consistent sizing also reinforces an expectation of pacing, allowing the reader to dive into the story’s world more quickly.
There are buttons for going backward and forward through the choices, which is handy, because it’s not clear with clickable texts will expand the information or move onto another passage. It’s quite easy to jump back, if you weren’t done poking around yet.
The end screen also smoothly invites the player to explore further. You get an overview of the endings you’ve found so far, and some suggestions for which choices you could change. Even with my awkward approach to choice-based games, this was enough of an invitation to make me plan out what I want to try differently next time, and that’s really saying something.
Flashbacks also change the font, and create this feeling of stepping into a hidden side room for a moment, before returning to the main story.
Overall, Kastel is very effective with a minimalist interface, and the prose is very active, feeling like something is happening now, instead of back then.
I Don’t Miss High School
From my gameplay notes:
A part of you wants to be a good student and you hate that part.
Yup. The confusion of having no faith in the education system, watching some of your own teachers lose faith in the system, seeing no value in the homework, yet being compelled to do it anyway. Your parents tell you over and over to succeed academically, get some high-end, high-paying job, and as long as you never falter from this path, your life will meet expectations. So that’s what you do.
This story made me viscerally remember emotions and memories which I didn’t realize I had locked away for a long time.
Before we reach the content warning, if you’d like to pass up the rest of this review, then the brief summary is: Hanna, We’re Going to School is full of surprises, and is a very immersive insight to the kinds of experiences which create powerful resentments for school systems.
So, uh, for the rest of the review, CONTENT WARNING: suicidal thoughts, mentions of transphobia.
Also, spoilers will be everywhere. It’s going to be difficult to talk about this without directly referencing chunks of the story.
Hanna, We’re Going to School immediately puts you in the head of someone who reminds me a lot of myself in high school. The environment feels like a claustrophobic trap, the movers and shakers are constantly trying to get you to sell your soul—as if it’s the only correct option—people are horrible to anyone who steps out of line, there is very little understanding given to some who are great people—but are simply the lion’s favorite victim—and you’re bombarded with messaging about your future being on the line, until you’re too numb to give a shit anymore.
And, to top it off, all the adults in your life keep spouting about how these are supposedly the best years of your life.
You’ve always pondered if you’ll ever live to see adulthood.
Adults seem nostalgic for reasons unknown to you.
…you’re afraid you might survive…
Very quickly we learn that Jing, our protagonist, is going through the motions, and fantasizes about ending it all. It’s what happens, day to day. The way these thoughts are described feels like looking into a mirror. High school students are stressed out of their minds, they’re withstanding onslaughts from all directions, so it’s no wonder that some grow suffocatingly-numb, and wish for death. I remember going to bed wondering if I should just stop. I didn’t know what was happening; I felt railroaded, destined to be an impostor, and doomed to fail. I often thought of how I would end it all, on my own terms, before external threats could get to me first. Just like in the story, the idea that got me through this was the fear of surviving; attempting something, but living to see the consequences.
Adults told me that after schooling was done, the meaningful part of my life would be over, and I refused to believe that. I had to refuse that. I knew I wanted to become something else, something which would survive the school system, and find a pocket to thrive in, despite it all.
Also like Jing, I wanted to hide. I still want to hide. Being known is terrifying, but it’s worth it to know this community in return.
Jing—as the player learns—is also Chinese, which is not a background I share. I have come to learn from friends of Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, and Thai descent that academic pressure is a whole additional order of magnitude when you come from Asian families.
This school is massive, too, and has international attention. Jing (and peers) are constantly drowning in parental pushes to network, plot, climb, obey, and win, no matter the cost. There is no time or purpose for these students to be people; there are only strategic goals to chase. Clara, who would probably describe herself as “Jing’s LinkedIn contact”, has certainly locked into this mindset, one which continuously feeds into the protagonist’s suicidal thoughts and growing disdain.
In very little time, we—as players—can certainly verify one singular pillar: This school is a crucible of an ecosystem.
We Need to Talk About Clara
Oh, Clara… Insufferable, unyielding Clara…
Kastel does a wonderful job writing her in a believable way.
Clara, more than Jing’s own parents, seems to form this icon of authority. She is what someone is supposed to be. She supposedly controls the power, in Jing’s eyes. She might be annoying, but she provides a bit of safety against the gnashing jaws of the wider environment, by proximity, even if she inflicts damage of her own.
Very little time had to pass with Clara before I entirely despised her. The only points I will grant for her are that she’s also a victim of the ecosystem, and she’s still in high school. Clara likely has a long road of introspection ahead of her, but I suspect she is in too deep with her current path; no chance to bail out now.
As the story goes on, Jing tries to see some good in her, while chalking her worst qualities up to simply being annoying. There’s even a moment—right before a catastrophic, televised ruination of a poor victim—where Jing and Hanna both share a kind of admiration for Clara.
This provides an excellent setup and contrast for when she gets deconstructed and—in the particular ending I got—gets fully revealed to be a vapid, homophobic, transphobic piece of shit—on top of many other things, already known before—ending with Jing cracking her a few in the face (and a few in the ego!) for going on a hideous rant about Hanna. More on that soon!
After further contemplation, though, I have understood that Clara simply is a product/victim of her environment. Unfortunately, she assimilated herself into it, instead of following Jing’s example of spitting in its face.
So, as much as I deeply despise Clara—as I have been tormented by people like her before—the bigger shadow cast over this story is certainly the academic pressures from parents and the school environment.
But Clara and her flock are still awful. I will stand by that.
“I can get you some guys who are really into Asian girls like you.”
“I bet you can get like three guys to sleep with you if I dress you right.”
The Icon of Dan
Honestly, Dan was only there for a single scene, and lurked in the background for most of my playthrough, but if you want to know how much he makes my spine crawl: Clara literally intervenes after realizing how Dan only sees Jing as a slab of Chinese meat. Clara tells him to go away.
I’ve known guys just like him in high school. I’ve gotten into fights with guys just like him in high school. He’s the rich, sexist, racist, homophobic, misogynistic, chaser asshole. Every moment his presence appears, it rots into the scene.
“I’m just being a gentleman.”
Sorry, that explosive retching sound was only me, gagging in response to him saying this, especially after the other retch-worthy things he’s said before. Knew a lot of guys like this in high school.
So what we grow to understand is while Clara is awful, she is only the nearest beast on the local food chain. The rest of the ecosystem is much worse, which is hinted at often.
If anything, Dan is the icon of forces which drive Clara to become so twisted. Both of these, in turn, rain hell on those further down the hierarchy, like Jing and Harold. Dan isn’t seen very often, but his footprints are.
Oh My Gawd We Went There
“----”
Ohhhh, I’m about to hate Clara even more.
“I don’t want to be married to someone like him.”
I once spent 7 years with someone, only to realize this is how she thought of me. Sincerely, fuck you, Clara.
You give Clara a good wallop in the face.
Oh my gawd, this choice was actually implemented??
“What did you just call me?”
Oh, Clara, if you’ll graciously provide Jing the platform…
“If you and your kind are given the keys to rule the world, then I’m pleased to say the world’s going to hell.”
Let’s go, Jing!!
After Clara’s transphobic tirade against Hanna, I was given the choice to have Jing deploy a short burst of violence. Now, I was genuinely expecting this to be a non-choice, where the story would say something like…
You fantasize about how much you want to hurt her, but then you realize the consequences this would have, and that violence isn’t the answer. You have a social standing to maintain, so you simply boil in silence and let go of her.
This is mostly because—for a lot of the path I took—Jing definitely seemed to be a character who would just duck in cover and prioritize safety in social standing among the movers and shakers. During the karaoke fiasco, the story seemed to really resist my choice to leave, almost like I picked something obviously out-of-character for her, though this apparently was a moment of growth in an excellently-written disguise.
So, imagine my surprise when I chose the short dance with violence, and Jing actually went for it.
Beyond the obvious reasons, this was really cathartic, as I kept wondering how long Jing would tolerate the power structure of Clara (and “friends”). This is what I wrote in my notes after the scene had concluded:
“You’re going to be in trouble.”
“Whatever, I’m just being principled.”
This. When you do not give a shit about the system you’re trapped in, and your end seems eternally nearby, there’s only so much care and effort you can put into laying low until you simply run dry. At some point, you will be empty, and the Machine will take you, and oftentimes, the Machine says “this has no value; cut it off”. When the Machine finally leaves you, your consequences will be waiting for you, yes, but the fact remains that you cannot boil with an empty pot. At some point, something will give out. It will ruin you, probably, but it’s going to give out. The interactions with Clara were on a ticking clock, and weren’t going to last forever.
I was really wondering how long this was going to keep going, where Jing held disdain for the surrounding structures—only aiming to graduate for a counterattack on schools, and their underlying hierarchy-indoctrination pipelines—yet she seemingly always had the energy for calculated or stealthy options, which kept in her more-or-less in line.
Yet, Kastel delivered the turning point I was waiting for, where Jing’s apathy would finally be made manifest, consequences be damned!
Can We Try To Talk About Hanna Now?
I love Hanna. So much.
From my gameplay notes:
I’m starting to wonder if I’m Hanna for certain people: Exhaustingly-friendly, haunting people with smiles, and largely convinced that I’m dead.
I got the ending were Jing professes love for Hanna, as a wonderful, bonus side-effect of finally unclenching.
I really love how Hanna’s character was slowly given more and more clues, both for her backstory and her ghostly status (as opposed to a hallucination). The timing, pacing, and granularity of these reveals were absolutely excellent.
Some more comments from my notes, regarding one such reveal:
She felt like she was dragging down her family: her grades were poor, school fees were high, and more importantly, she knew she was weird.
She’s sick in their eyes. That’s the thing she remembered from the psychiatric session when she got out and looked for a way to the rooftop.
I’m just too much of a coward to do it.
This work keeps finding new ways of reaching into my chest and reopening stuff I had buried away. For the entirety of my time in school (especially in college), I felt like I was a black hole, vacuuming up time, money, and effort from my parents, because they were convinced I was destined for greatness. I knew I would fail them, one day, and their wasted investment would finally be revealed. I was the product doomed to never reach the market. I was the embodiment of the sunk cost fallacy.
Jing cuts through the school system, Clara finds exploits in it, Dan flourishes in it like a predator, but Hanna is the other side of all of this. Hanna is proof that the environment has teeth. Hanna is the light at the end of the tunnel, reminding our protagonist that there must be more to life than school. Hanna is the wake-up call and the reality check. Hanna is the scar that these systems want to keep buried.
It would be a shame if I didn’t have more to say about Hanna, but the fact of the matter is that Hanna makes this game what it is, and not just because her name is in the title. It’s difficult to fangirl about Hanna without simply pointing to a full review of the entire game.
Even when the school ecosystem sickens me, Hanna is the reason why I want to dive back into this. I will pull through more scenes with Clara and Dan, just to see more from Hanna.
Hanna is the driving force throughout this game, keeping Jing from missing it all within a dissociative haze.
And, oh my gawd, the ending I got was adorable, and really really sweet. I’m really glad there is a path in this game that brings these two characters together like this. They complement each other really well.
Some Remarks On Harold
My dear Harold Patel.
You deserved so, so, so much better.
Most of my thoughts are found in my notes:
He breaks into tears and slams his fist on the table.
I remember this sound. Interesting how easily that one returned.
You can imagine him working for some video game company. If he tones down on the drawing tanks part and designs human characters instead…
Don’t do it, Harold. There’s plenty of demand for vehicle concept artists.
All you know is Harold isn’t there drawing tanks. Think the teacher’s said he’s in sick bay or something.
These moments are horrible: Forced to remain in class, while you’re worried sick about what happened to a missing classmate.
Either way, you know he’s safe and that’s good enough.
No, you don’t, but I’ll take the protagonist’s word for it.
“Oh shit, the security guards are catching up.”
This literally happened at my school once. A classmate had a breakdown. I didn’t know what happened to him afterward, the day of. We were all ushered back to our classes, like nothing happened. I was worried, while he was missing from the classroom, and then I suddenly see him, through the window, making a sprint for it, with school staff chasing after him. It was surreal to watch, and my heart broke for him.
Harold deserved so much better. He’s another victim in this environment, offering another angle on how the ecosystem eats people alive.
I would have more to say about him, but a lot of it would be inferences and projections, based on my own experiences in high school. Harold would have been a good friend of mine, probably. I wonder if there’s a path where we get to interact with him more…
Some Other Miscellaneous Notes
Adults seem nostalgic for reasons unknown to you.
I’m nearly 30, and I still feel like this. School friends text me about their nostalgia and “the good ol’ days”, and every time I think back, I remember a cage. Even now, in moments where everything seems to be ending, when I endure moments which my brain forces me to forget, only vaguely recalled later for overdue processing, in moments where the future is bleak, uncertain, terrifying, and unyielding, I would still prefer to be here than back in high school. Frankly, I have no idea what everyone’s going on about.
it houses grade levels from kindergarten up to high school
WOAH.
You imagine how noisy each bus has to be
I don’t have to. It was overwhelming.
This is also an interesting insight into what walking to school must have been like. I’ve always lived too far away to do this. After one of my friends started driving me, I noticed that the route was 30 minutes on a good day. Walking to school always felt so dangerous, and I had a lot of respect for classmates who did that.
elegies
I’ve learned a new word!
“…people in the past are good at writing poetry. Today, I think we’ve lost that skill.”
Wowwwww. Definitely not a Clara fan. I’m keeping in mind that this is a high-schooler, so I’m hoping she has a lot of learning ahead of her, still.
ang mohs
Ahahaha, I’ve learned another new term!
You hope to God Dan and Clara didn’t notice you sneaking out because they might crucify you. You’re scared.
This is one of those moments where I wonder if I’m too autistic to understand this. I’ll take the protagonist’s word for it. Besides, there’s an easy alibi.
“Schools don’t teach you anything except for internalizing the hierarchy.”
Preach, Jing.
“I think if you go out with him and tie the knot, you’d live a happy life.”
I think Clara is using a very different definition of “happy”.
Closing Thoughts
In some ways, this game made me feel very seen. In many more ways, this was a window into the specific brand of academic stressors often suffered by students of Asian descent in the school system, and the many facets of harm it inflicts, and how someone can try to survive it all.
It’s well-written, well-paced, and I want to hop back in and poke around some more, which is very rare for me to say!
Also, I feel like there is a lot more going on here, which I unfortunately may be blind to. Analyzing social dynamics is not something I’m very good at, despite the decades I’ve tried improving the skill. It’s definitely something I would recommend others explore, as they’ll certainly uncover more of this story, and contribute to the growing collection of reflections and experiences.
