Exploring Inspirations for Teaching and Learning: Making Room for Joy
This fall marks my twentieth year in the classroom as an educator. I’ve spent most (practically all!) of my life in school, and no matter what I have going on, the first day of class almost always brings excitement.
Don’t get me wrong; some semesters have been challenging. My first semester of grad school felt like baptism by fire. I felt so out of place, trying to learn what it meant to be a scholar and balance all that grad school requires with having limited childcare and a toddler at home. Similarly, my second semester as a tenure-track professor was filled with anticipatory grief and fear. My mom was diagnosed with a terminal illness, and I was trying to learn what it would mean to be her caregiver. Of course, there’s also the spring of 2020, in which everyone had to figure out what it meant to live in a global pandemic. I don’t look at every semester through rose-colored glasses.
This fall semester brings its own challenges. There’s the desire to acknowledge and celebrate twenty years of teaching. Still, I also face caring for a sick parent, parenting a kid in middle school, and another in high school, and we are still in a global pandemic. I imagine that many of us are facing challenges that may leave us to feel like we are in a constant state of burnout with little room to find respite, recharge, or even imagine other possibilities.
Despite everything, I still wanted to find a way to mark twenty years of classroom work. This feels like something I should celebrate, even with the challenges, and I’m trying to get better about making room for joy. So, I’ve been thinking about how to mark this anniversary, think about my experiences, and make room for what’s to come. I decided that I would do something that brings me joy, helps hold space for reflection, and perhaps can help other educators. I’m going to write about things that have inspired my teaching. I get inspired by lots of things: books, carefully crafted playlists, poems, art, dance breaks, archives, being in nature, music, food, and being a student (I’m taking Korean classes and am constantly being reminded of how much trust it takes to learn new things).
As I tried to imagine what these reflections might look like, I thought about where to begin. Given my anxieties around the start of the fall semester, I thought I’d start with what is giving me joy and excitement. For me, that’s BTS. I’ve written before about how BTS has inspired me as an educator. From their message at the UN in 2021 to how they encouraged me to rethink my teaching during the pandemic, I find their music and messages find their way into the content of my courses and influence the way I think about what it means to be an educator. I’ve taught a graduate course that featured a unit on BTS through the lens of rhetoric, designed assignments that feature BTS as examples for thinking about reflection and languages, and delivered talks on what it means to have BTS-influenced pedagogy. In my next few posts, I’ll most likely share a variety of resources such as assignments, writing prompts, and activities, as well as how my personal experiences with BTS and ARMY have inspired my praxis (reflection and action).
I’m often asked how BTS fits into conversations about how we teach. I get that some might not readily see a connection, but I often respond to this question of “Why BTS?” by asking people to think about who or what inspires them to learn. Usually, it isn’t an academic class or even a teacher in the traditional sense they name. Sometimes it’s a friend who knows just how to offer encouragement or a poem that invites them to see themselves differently. Or it’s a curiosity fueled by a desire to make meaningful connections with others.
Simply put, learning and teaching are not limited to a “traditional” classroom. In my ARMY experience, I have found that BTS and the fandom have reignited my desire to think creatively about what’s possible in our communities. My experience as a parent to a teenage ARMY has been a constant source of inspiration and has given me plenty to reflect on.
This post is part introduction (or maybe intention setting?) and part accountability (if I say I’m going to write, then I have to write!). I’ve been fortunate to have many wonderful mentors and experiences that have shaped me as an educator and writer. I hope taking time to reflect can also be a way to show gratitude for these inspirations and connections. Finally, as someone committed to using language to sustain and care for communities, resist oppression and seek joy, I hope these reflections might be a way to build connections with others who share similar commitments.
(A note to readers: No promises just yet on frequency for posts, but I’ll do my best to update each month. I also use this blog to write and reflect on things not related to teaching and research. I’ll do my best to tag and categorize.)
Alt text for details of the infographic:
Dialogic: How does BTS invite conversation around critical issues? When and where does critical dialogue happen? What does dialogic pedagogy mean in a transcultural fandom?
Community-Centered: How do learning, teaching, and exchange happen? Where does community-centered teaching and learning occur? How do we learn to care for our community spaces? Why does care matter?
Reflection: How does BTS model critical self-reflection? How do ARMY spaces encourage reflection and shared connections? How might this reflection influence other aspects of our lives?
Stories: What role does storytelling play in BTS’s music and messages? How do stories become part of our shared ARMY experience? Why is storytelling key to critical learning and exchange?
Collaboration: What does it mean to collaborate in a transcultural fandom? How do we learn to be in a community with others? What does “teamwork makes the dream work” look like for ARMY?
@drEppsRobertson, 2021
