Teaching

My teaching philosophy centers on creating inclusive, student-driven classrooms that empower critical inquiry and intellectual independence. Whether I am teaching eighteenth- and nineteenth-century literature or first-year writing, I approach the classroom as a space of shared meaning-making grounded in anti-racist pedagogy. In her article “Anti-racist pedagogy: From faculty’s self-reflection to organizing within and beyond the classroom,” Kyoko Kishimoto reminds us that “Anti-racist pedagogy is not about simply incorporating racial content into courses, curriculum, and discipline. It is also about how one teaches, even in courses where race is not the subject matter.” Her words inspire the student-centered, humane classrooms I strive to create—spaces defined not only by what is taught, but how it is framed and delivered.

When I design courses, I am always mindful of the population I am serving. I tailor content and assignments to meet students at their unique learning and life stage, while still challenging them to grow. As a WRT 101 instructor working with first-semester college students, I understand my pedagogy to serve two distinct purposes. The first is academic: guiding students through the transition from high school writing conventions to college-level writing and research. I build from students’ existing knowledge with compassion, bridging formulaic understandings like the five-paragraph essay toward more complex, discipline-spanning practices of argument and evidence. The second purpose is social. My students are not only adjusting academically but also navigating the upheaval of their first semester away from home. For that reason, I design WRT 101 courses to be collaborative and community-oriented, filled with small group work and peer review sessions that help students build relationships alongside intellectual confidence. I want my classroom to be a space where students feel both supported and known, and I therefore intentionally make my class an ideal space for building community.

I customize my teaching persona and course atmosphere to bring out the best in each unique constellation of students. At Syracuse, I taught an 8 a.m. WRT 101 course composed almost entirely of Division I football players. To reach them effectively, I adopted a coach-like, authoritative persona and set clear, measurable goals for improvement. My afternoon WRT 205 section, by contrast, consisted mostly of junior and senior theatre majors—an extroverted, talkative group. I accordingly leaned into their enthusiasm and transformed what might have been a lecture-heavy class into a lively, discussion-driven space. Later, teaching Duke students in an upper-level course titled “Inventing Childhood,” I encountered a different challenge: students who were highly grade-oriented and inclined toward box-checking. I encouraged these students to become comfortable with intellectual play and creative risk-taking by introducing low-stakes in-class exercises and adopting a more theatrical persona myself to model curiosity and spontaneity. Across these varied contexts, I have learned that adaptability—of tone, method, and even personality—is key to effective teaching.

My teaching is grounded in a fundamentally humane philosophy: I see my students as human beings before I see them as academics. From the first day of class, I make it a priority to learn my students’ names, hometowns, interests, and life events outside of school—and I allow them to know me as well. In my experience, students invest more deeply in a course when they sense genuine mutual respect and care. I foster this atmosphere through intentional, everyday gestures: arriving early to class to chat with students, playing music as they enter, and encouraging informal conversation before discussions begin. The music serves two purposes. It acts as white noise that helps students feel comfortable talking, and it also functions as an intellectual springboard. For example, playing Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall” before a lesson on John Locke’s Some Thoughts Concerning Education invites students to think about education as a social mechanism for producing “good” citizens. These small acts of intentional design create a sense of community and curiosity that extends beyond the classroom walls.

My literature courses are generally discussion-based, with one in every four or five classes providing a lecture on historical contexts that might enrich their engagement with the course readings. As an instructor of literature, I see my role as that of a facilitator who empowers students to negotiate meaning independently and collaboratively. This is not to say that I do not challenge my students to think differently or think harder.  In class discussion, I will often ask students follow-up questions to encourage a more rigorous analytical response, potentially drawing attention to textual evidence that gives friction to their analysis or prompting them to consider intersecting thematic or formal concerns. To prepare for these conversations, I assign reflective blog posts alongside readings. These posts allow me to gauge students’ interests and perceptions ahead of class so I can design discussions that respond to their curiosities rather than dictate them.

For instance, when I taught Jane Eyre to my ENG290 course, and the majority of student blog posts noted feeling uncomfortable with Mr. Rochester’s controlling persona and seductive power over the relatively powerless Jane. In order to help them think critically about their affective response to the novel's eroticization of uneven power dynamics, I began class with a short contextual lecture on the socioeconomic realities of Victorian governesses, the separate-spheres ideology, and the novel's position in the feminist literary critical canon. Equipped with this framework, students were better able to situate their affective responses within shifting historical gender contexts, and therefore better able to critique the feminist (or non-feminist) implications of Jane Eyre's marriage plot. All the while, I would be careful not to determine the content or stance of their analysis. As a Literature instructor, my goal is always to create a room full of capable, independent critical thinkers.

Ultimately, my teaching is about fostering capable, self-aware thinkers who approach texts—and each other—with curiosity and care. I want students to leave my classroom not only as stronger writers and readers, but as more attentive listeners and more generous interlocutors. By grounding my pedagogy in anti-racist, humane, and flexible principles, I hope to model for them what learning can look like when it is rooted in respect, openness, rigor, and intellectual joy. 

[1] Kishimoto, Kyoko. “Anti-racist pedagogy: From faculty’s self-reflection to organizing within and beyond the classroom,” in Race Ethnicity and Education, 21(4), 540.

Duke University

• ENG 090 - Intro to Poetry, Thomas Pfau (Fall 2021)

• ENG 090 - Art of Attention, Sarah Beckwith (Spring 2022)

• ENG 246 - Jane Austen, Charlotte Sussman (Spring 2023)

• ENG 368 - Science Fiction Film, Priscilla Wald (Fall 2023)

• ENG 236 - Shakespeare's Nature, Sarah Beckwith (Fall 2024)

Elon University

• ENG 1100 - Writing, Argument, and Inquiry: AI (Spring 2025): “Synthesizing Research Findings”

• ENG 2704 - Applied Literature: Health and Business (Fall 2024): “Sympathy in Frankenstein”