Global Education Beyond the Classroom: Engaging the World through Scholarship
For many years, I have challenged myself to advocate for global education and international studies across the world. I have read many books, travelled on my own, and engaged with other people about culture, traditions, and politics. I have formed relationships that connect people across a host of competing ideologies, religion, and beliefs that sometimes conflicted with my own thoughts. However, these contradictions challenged and inspired me to keep pursuing research and unlock such contradictions by participating in a host of scholarship competitions around the world. I have competed with thousands of scholars and researchers to earn opportunities for scholarships and funded programs. I am on a global quest to visit 10 countries and gain a variety of my own Humanities Moments. I have been face-to-face with a WWII Japanese soldier who believed his mission was his destiny, visited North Korea clandestinely to understand how the South felt about the war, learned about the travails of a Filipino family because of the influence of the Spanish conquest on their culture, seen the desperate experiences of the Bantu folks in Soweto in post-Apartheid who still struggle to find their identity and culture, and seen the eyes of our students when they sit among others in an International Competition during the World Animation Championship for Children in Greece. Each of these events triggered my Humanities Moments and will always continue to inspire and challenge me to also keep mentoring our students to do the same.
Travel through the Fulbright Program, the South Korea Foundation, the Rotary Foundation, the European Union, the Toyota of North America Foundation, and the Institute of International Education
1986-2021
Dr. Conrad Ulpindo
global-education-beyond-classroom
Artifacts at the Museum
Recently, I've found myself longing to take advantage of the Smithsonian Museums that are so conveniently located ten miles northeast of my home- maybe it's because such destinations were closed for a long period of time due to the COVID-19 pandemic. I figured that I might as well take advantage of these attractions re-opening and welcoming guests. Only a select few Smithsonian venues have opened their doors and so I decided to visit one that I've always enjoyed in the past, the Freer Gallery of Art. The Freer Gallery of Art boasts an impressive collection of art from East Asia, South Asia, Southeast Asia, the Islamic world, and the Middle East. The collections range from the late Neolithic period to the modern era- there is certainly plenty to see. One of the main attractions located in the Freer Gallery is the <em>Harmony in Blue and Gold: The Peacock Room</em>. This is a beautifully decorated room that serves as a lasting example of aestheticism. Despite the beauty and enveloping nature of the Peacock Room, I found my humanities moment in other places within the museum. <br /><br />My humanities moment came to me while viewing pottery, porcelain, ceramics, paintings, and sculptures from East Asia and South Asia. The connections to be made between cultures in India, China, and Korea, simply by identifying the similarities and trends in the artifacts seemed endless. Whether it was a ceramic-making technique or the spread and artistic display of Buddhism that could be traced across civilizations- regional interaction was present. Part of being a Social Studies teacher is facilitating the process of students making connections through the examination of regional interactions across time. Making those connections helps students be more globally-minded citizens.
Freer Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.
July 17, 2021
G. Lee, 33, Social Studies Teacher
artifacts-museum
The Day I Knew I Was Going to Teach History
In what has become a defining moment of my entire life, my first true humanities moment provided clarity and direction for my future in the midst of all things awkward about being a middle school student.
Doing well in school was a safety net for me. The excitement of learning new things and the validation that came with "good grades" and being a teacher's pet type person were anchors in a time of social and hormonal upheaval and a family move the summer before 8th grade. If I was going to be at a new school, at least I knew I would do well in my classes, (failing math for a grading period, not withstanding, I mean, this isn't my "math moment," it's my humanities moment). My 8th grade US History and language arts teacher, Mrs. Batsford, was young and energetic, and seemed to genuinely like us and think we were fun humans. Now, after teaching 9th graders for 20 years, I know just how special that was. But it was the creativity with which Mrs. Batsford presented content that really created my humanities moment.
One day while studying the Civil War, Mrs. Batsford had us spend an entire class period constructing a "city" out of empty milk cartons. She gave us no context or explanation for this craft project, just set us to work. The next day, our city was complete and laid out on a large table. She came out from behind her desk and I watched in shock as she climbed up on top of the table wearing big laced-up boots with her early 90's long floral dress. Without a word, she began stomping all over our milk carton city with her big giant boots, flattening every single little crafted square while we watching with our mouths hanging open. Her destruction complete, she daintily got back down from the table and said, "that's what happened during Sherman's march to the sea."
I was floored. I couldn't believe a teacher would behave in such a demonstrative manner and do something that seemed so brash, just for the purpose of helping us understand something. In that instant I knew that was what I wanted to do. I wanted to help students learn history with a little drama and a lot of storytelling. I began on a path that day, that has guided my steps from 8th grade to now, a 21 year veteran of teaching history. Later I learned that Mrs. Batsford's dramatized version of razing cities to the ground was not quite the real story of what happened during that episode of the Civil War. That never diminished the importance of this moment and what it showed me about how people can connect with history. She made me want to learn more. And that is certainly a legacy worth striving for.
8th grade US History class
1991
Kim Karayannis, FCPS Social Studies teacher
day-knew-teach-history
Internal and External Connections through Listening: Finding Comfort in Pauline Oliveros's "The Earth Worm Also Sings"
In the final days of 2020 I, like many others, was feeling disconnected. Disconnected from my friends, my passions, and even myself. As a part of my research on sound, music, and environmentalism I came across a poem by composer, performer, and sound artist Pauline Oliveros. In her poem "The Earth Worm Also Sings" Oliveros lays out her understanding of the universe as made of and connected through sound: living, dying, and the afterlife are sonic. For Oliveros, all of existence is based in sound and vibration. “The Earth Worm Also Sings” is a 165-line stream of consciousness poem in three sections: First, Oliveros explores the sonic world of the mind, body, life, and death; Second, Oliveros describes a meditative journey in which she imagines an “alternative self, tiny enough to journey inside” the “acoustic universe” of her own ear; And finally the poem ends with a short coda which repeats material from the first section, bringing the reader full circle. Throughout the work Oliveros explores the sonic nature of the universe, a universe that is made of and connected through sound. In her holistic worldview, mind and body are connected to the cosmos through sound and vibration, and it is Deep Listening, a practice of listening to all things at all times, that allows us to access that connection. Through Deep Listening we can be returned to “the source of all beginning,” which is “abundance, fecund creativity, brilliant spark, sounding pulse, life unending.” “The Earth Worm Also Sings” encapsulates the potential depth of Deep Listening, a practice which goes beyond mere “listening” and ties one to the very essence of the universe.
In a time when I was feeling disconnected from the things that made me feel like myself, "The Earth Worm Also Sings" helped me to feel grounded while reminding me that I am a part of something larger than I could ever imagine. At the most fundamental level, Oliveros describes herself as a “community of musical cells” each of which “[sing] the song of its musical structure.” Oliveros’s sounding and listening selves function cyclically, regenerating through listening to their own sound. She writes, “I was born here to hear all my cells through my cells.” In "The Earth Worm Also Sings" Oliveros expresses a way for me to sonically connect to myself, both through listening to the sounds of my body and the sounds of my imagination. After I feel grounded in my own mind and body, remembering that my sonic self is a part of a larger sounding and listening cosmos has provided comfort in days of disconnection and isolation. Listening to the world around me, to the sounds of chirping birds, to the slam of car doors on the street, to laughter coming from my neighbors apartment, connects me to my place. Even the sounds I cannot hear—the sounds of Boethius's "musica mundana," the music of the spheres—connect me to a greater whole.
Pauline Oliveros
"The Earth Worm Also Sings"
2020
Taylor McClaskie, Musicologist
internal-external-connections-listening
Day of the Living Dead
As someone with a profound interest in and curiosity about death culture, I was very excited when visiting family last summer I had the opportunity to visit several cemeteries outside of Denver, Colorado. Headstones can tell us so much about the past and I am endlessly fascinated with them as rich sources of material culture, and taking the time to visit them instills within me a sense of connection to peoples, places, and times that feel so out of reach and foreign. One cemetery in particular, located in an abandoned-ish mining town, gave me more pause than usual. I was caught off guard by just how... active this cemetery is. There were so many gifts left throughout the cemetery, many more than I am used to seeing, particularly where the headstones have been so worn and weathered as to be nearly indecipherable. As I worked my way throughout the cemetery, which had been built into the landscape and not the other way around, I found countless children's toys, coins, and even small works of art left as tokens of respect for those who had passed long ago. This experience instilled in me the notion that the connections that exist between the living and the dead are very real and that our humanity brings us together, with brief fleeting moments and offerings facilitating the very real exchanges between the past and the present for which so many long.
A cemetery
Summer 2020
Kendyl M, Schmidt, 34, PhD Student
day-living-dead
It Really is Gonna be Alright...
In the Fall of 2016, I started putting together application materials to begin my Masters program. I had so much anxiety going into the process and a lot of life changing questions– do I want to continue with the theatre? Am I ready to leave my family and study in another country? The longest I had gone without seeing my family was maybe two months in college.<br /><br />One day, while working on my materials and going through the motions, "Every Little Thing Is Gonna Be Alright" by Bob Marley just came to mind and I started to hum the song. I stopped working and played the whole song on my phone before I went back to work. This was a song my mom who died of cancer would sing all the time– and in that moment, I felt her and I felt peace. It felt like she was trying to say something, to comfort me. I could hear her telling me I could do it or that I was ready for the next chapter of my life. <br /><br />I finished my Masters and even went on to enroll in a Ph.D. program. To this day, whenever I feel my anxiety creeping up or whenever I feel myself falling into a dark place, I just sing that song and cry a little. After that, I feel great– a sense of calm and peace just takes over. It is not a magic wand that makes the challenge disappear– however, it provides me with little moments of calm and clarity to solve the problem. (And knowing that it is like my special time with my mother makes it even better.)
Bob Marley
"Every Little Thing is Gonna Be Alright"
Fall 2016
Irene Gasarah, Ph.D. Student
really-gonna-be-alright
Contested Perspective
Human connection is the most important part of life to me. I really value great relationships and look forward to connecting with new people every chance I get. Obviously, I am not going to have the same views on every single topic as anyone else. I think we make the biggest growth as human beings when we connect with people who have very different perspectives than our own, and we are willing to see things through their eyes. It does not mean that will always lead us to the same conclusion or change our own perspective in any way.
I use the phrase, “life is all about perspective” all the time, but how much the concept of contested territory is related to perspective did not really hit me until Morgan Pitelka was presenting his seminar, “Memory and Commemoration.” He discussed the Yūshūkan War/ Military Museum in Tokyo, Japan and explained that the Japanese people say the museum is a place of memorial for the lost soldiers, while others see it as a place to glorify Japan’s violent military past. There were other strong examples of contested perspectives throughout my time here in North Carolina, but that moment brought it all together for me.
July 26th, 2018
Breann Johnston, Middle School Teacher
contested-perspective