Getting high on my own (pedagogical) supply.
I often, in the midst of planning for a course, get so excited about how the activities I introduce will go over with my students. I think about what they might come away with at the end of the class / semester, how they might feel about the concepts I introduce and what needs to be in place to ensure relative safety (sometimes things like reflection essays, for example, can bring up strong emotions among students, so I like to build-in contingencies to address this possibility). I also often do not think of myself as another beneficiary (participant - yes, beneficiary - not necessarily) of the outcomes I hope my students end up working with. I’ve just recently begun doing regular reflection essays outside of the classroom for myself, and they’ve been clarifying. Also, consistently practicing the less concretized aspects (the affective, the aesthetic, the political, for example) of my pedagogical habits (for instance, “making space” for students who show up to the classroom in ways we as instructors and faculty have deemed disruptive) outside of the classroom has been a challenging invitation for me, I think. It’s a good one tho, because engaging the contra-punitive always matters. What becomes of my practice when I go home (or log off Zoom)?
I aim for that practice to become more a part of myself. There’s a strong case to made for a “balance,” or for there to be a salient differentiation between work and the personal, of course. I think, though, that a rejection of the punitive as an undergirding philosophy doesn’t need to be “balanced”—and the work that comes from that philosophy—community reflection activities, short introspective essay writing, intentional and supportive feedback—can be part of a push against the carceral formations we interact with in our daily lives. So, when I think of it like that, I don’t want balance here. I want the whole supply.