love – Katie Kearns

A love letter to educational developers

A large fire in a firepit. The fire is about person-sized, with sticks at the bottom. It is bright orange.

This is an invitation for educators of goodwill to put fortitude, hope, and courage into the collective pot to share and borrow as needed. Below is what comes to mind for me today.

What’s love got to do with teaching?

One the left is a box of Mother's Mythical Creatures cookies, on the right is a box of Scooby Doo Graham Cracker Snacks. The boxes are pastel colored.

I am supposed to teach about theories of learning and specific teaching practices in my graduate course in college pedagogy. I really love the opportunity to dig deeper, beyond theories and strategies, to talk about love (and fear) as a choice in the classroom. Let me share a little about what I mean by love and fear, the work of others I draw upon, and a couple activities I use.

Love letters from graduate students

the title is in white lettering on a tan banner. The main image is an overhead shot of five students at a round table collaborating

I received the email about the book award the evening before I made my resignation public. That message helped me balance my grief with all of the loving relationships and communities I had been a part of creating over my 18 years. As I depart this university, I cherish the book and the contained graduate students’ essays as love letters. Between the lines, I can see, hear, and feel what mattered to them about the worlds we co-created.

Baby steps

A white cat sleeping on a bed spread with pastel boxes of color.

Discomforts started setting in by around day three. Sensations which I had long ago adapted to and learned to manage subconsciously were now very consciously noticed new sensations. I felt really overstimulated and mentally exhausted. And cranky and impatient.

Reflections and intentions: Being in community

The sun is setting and reflecting on a lake. The water is frozen near the beach, which is in the foreground. The water in the middle of the lake is open water. There are rocks in the foreground, and hills with trees in the background.

I am entering into this new calendar year with more self-compassionate approaches to reflection and intention setting. What did I learn about myself for this year? What did I do for myself this year? What values do I continue to uphold and want to focus on for next year?

I want to be a turtle grandma

A translucent glass turtle on a white background. The legs elevate the turtle off the surface and the head is raised. The shell of the turtle is mosaic glass - blue, green, yellow tiles.

The turtle grandmas are shepherds, protectors, and keepers of space for the nestlings. They do pastoral work, watching over the nests and being present before, during, and after the turtles hatch. They facilitate the flow of nature.

My dislocated toes: A thorough update

Cross legs, the left on top of the right. The toenails are painted purple. The legs are on a clay-colored sheet and blue fleece blanket. On the right foot (which is on the left-hand side of the image), the second and third toes are crooked.

I’m inviting friends to help me tend to my fears about pain, loneliness, and urgent need as best I can. I get to have new experiences of care from and with my friends. I get to expand my self-knowledge about what feels good to me. I get to learn more about the people in my community and what they like to do.

I am the snapping turtle

A loggerhead sea turtle on the beach heading toward the water

That late-summer evening in 2019, in cutting a snapping turtle free from lake weeds, I started the process of setting myself free from codependency and internalized oppressive mindsets.

I am my grandmothers’ dreams

A white woman with brown, shoulder-length hair. She's wearing an orange shirt. Her body faces to the left, she's looking at the camera. On her left shoulder is a colorful peacock tattoo.

I didn’t remember that I had this dream until I opened my email at the breakfast table this morning. I opened an email from pinterest of things I might like. Among the recommended pins was a picture of glass-bead earrings shaped like peacock feathers.

The dream rushed right back into my consciousness and I let out a deep sob. The river of tears seemed to emerge from nowhere and everywhere.

Drawn to the light

a woman in shorts and t-shirt standing in front of a short stone wall. There's a canyon behind her and colorful trees. There's a book bag at her feet.

You’re not wrong, surviving and thriving is challenging right now. And also, I want to share some beautiful things in the midst of all that.