Teaching with a broken heart: A visual autoethnographic exploration of vulnerability and resilience
Location
1049
Format Type
Event
Format Type
Paper
Start Date
January 2019
End Date
January 2019
Abstract
The Japanese art of Kintsugi uses lacquer resin mixed with powdered gold to repair a broken object, incorporating the damage into the overall aesthetic of the restored item. In this visual autoethnographic narrative, I explore some meanings of vulnerability for teachers, as well as learners, that emerged from the experience of learning to teach with a broken heart. This exploration is set within the sanctuary of Nitobe Garden, an exquisite walled Japanese garden at the University of British Columbia. I started taking students from my qualitative methods seminar to Nitobe Garden for a silent fieldwork observation exactly one year after my former life partner died very suddenly from a heart attack. It was the only way I could teach on the anniversary of her death. Since then, I have taken students to Nitobe Garden every year. This garden becomes a literal and figurative place to reflect on how we understand ourselves in relation to the social and natural worlds. In subsequent classes, we hold a Photovoice discussion about the garden. Students share their photos from the garden and we create found poetry from the transcript, reading it aloud and identifying how this form of inquiry powerfully distills our shared insights.
Keywords
narrative, autoethnography, teaching, vulnerability, resilience, photography, poetry
Teaching with a broken heart: A visual autoethnographic exploration of vulnerability and resilience
1049
The Japanese art of Kintsugi uses lacquer resin mixed with powdered gold to repair a broken object, incorporating the damage into the overall aesthetic of the restored item. In this visual autoethnographic narrative, I explore some meanings of vulnerability for teachers, as well as learners, that emerged from the experience of learning to teach with a broken heart. This exploration is set within the sanctuary of Nitobe Garden, an exquisite walled Japanese garden at the University of British Columbia. I started taking students from my qualitative methods seminar to Nitobe Garden for a silent fieldwork observation exactly one year after my former life partner died very suddenly from a heart attack. It was the only way I could teach on the anniversary of her death. Since then, I have taken students to Nitobe Garden every year. This garden becomes a literal and figurative place to reflect on how we understand ourselves in relation to the social and natural worlds. In subsequent classes, we hold a Photovoice discussion about the garden. Students share their photos from the garden and we create found poetry from the transcript, reading it aloud and identifying how this form of inquiry powerfully distills our shared insights.
Comments
Breakout Session D