Explore the vast range of titles available.

This paper involves a series of speculations, through literature, on what it might mean for the teacher and student to dwell on the precarious frontier of dreaming, and also, what education is bound to lose if its efforts only allow the immediate qualities of doing and knowing, ignoring the hints of a life that doubles the one we live in the clear of day. I theorize how dreaming may contribute to a theory of education that does not necessarily have to disavow what it cannot read, and what it does not yet understand. I open this paper with a short illustration of the powerful urge to the wakeful and rational, drawn from the pages of comic artist Lynda Barry’s (1992) graphic narrative My Perfect Life. I then explore the creative possibilities of dreaming as found in Laurie Halse Anderson’s (1999) young adult novel Speak, which offers a useful example of a teacher at times encouraging his student’s movement to dream.

Young people engage daily with various social media platforms to communicate with one another across the globe. Adolescents not only share text, but also use images and sound to express themselves on platforms such as Instagram and TikTok to provide access to user-created content. The recent emergence of InstaPoetry—poetry with images on Instagram—has been part of such communication and provides an entry point into adolescents’ engagement with literature and the arts. Limited research exists, however, on how this literacy practice, paired with virtual and in-person museum visits, influences young people’s self-expression. In addition, there is little known about how teachers can incorporate these literacy practices in the classroom. In this article, we offer ways of integrating and involving these dynamic dimensions into research projects based on four sites of inquiry located in Canada and Australia. Funded by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada, this research project provides concrete teaching to foster adolescents’ engagement with literature and the arts (i.e., contextual design, procedures, environment) in post COVID-19 times.

In this paper, we wonder how comics – through its play of absence and presence, and as unique multimodal merger of visual arts and literature – may allow readers to engage in a particular kind of psychic work, involving the influence of memory and unconscious life on reading experience. We thus discuss an explicitly psychoanalytic understanding of reading comics, paying particular attention to the mental movements of repression, projection, and reparation. Drawing on readers’ experiences with Lynda Barry’s The Freddie Stories, we also consider how the formal elements of comics reading might allow readers to work through the effects of potentially difficult personal histories.

In this paper, I pose the question of how a traumatic past may be represented through a strategy of intergenerational, interpsychic displacement. I present the case of one reader who uses poetry and art to respond to a difficult text: Lynda Barry’s The Freddie Stories. In my examination of this reader’s encounter with difficult knowledge, I turn to Bion’s concept of the caesura as a means of investigating between affect and representation, memory and its screen, self and other, past and present, revelation and concealment.

Reading and Representing the School Dream in Comics Form BENEATH THE VISIBLE, LEGIBLE, QUANTIFIABLE CURRENTS of classroom life lays a seething vortex of ambient, proto-cultural form, \"unsigned, unreadable, and unsymbolized\" (de Certeau, 1984, p. xvii). Since these visual narratives describe dreams that are set in school, they also represent a step towards and through the subterranean zones of teacher education. [...]Klein (1955) considered the child's play with toys as comparable to the adult's free associative drifts, while Milner (2010) contended that since children, \"live so much of their lives ... in a state where dream and external reality are fused\" (p. 108), their drawings communicate a curious lack of differentiation between the world of thoughts and things, which is also suggested as a psychic position to which we may subsequently return as adults. The first panel finds Splash in an environment containing a number of obvious references to Salvador Dali's paintings, while in the second panel, he sits at a desk in the anxiety-provoking, overfamiliar setting of a school exam.

In this work, I seize on the movements of language engaged in the confusions of qualitative research. I examine the impressions and effects of a researcher’s desires, in which language serves simultaneously as a point of alienation, and as an imperfect enunciatory tool forever directed at satisfaction. Provoking a haunted analysis of autobiographical place, I also dwell in the poetic influences of topographical reading. The result is a methodological inquiry into the ways we move when we do educational re-search, and the curricular paths that languages help to inscribe in this performance.

This paper theorizes on the elusive relationship between boredom and education, rethinking the opportunities and implications of encountering the boring in the sphere of schooling. In approaching the writings of Heidegger, Benjamin, and Kracauer, among others, I wonder whether a failure to recognize the utter ambiguity and ambivalence of boredom, as something that affects both teachers and students, bespeaks an impulse to ignore the potential that lies in the uncertainties of educational practice. I also reflect on how the shape of this recognition influences whether we consent to, or disavow, the inevitable absence of omnipotence and mastery in the movements of teaching and learning.

In this paper, I study the narrative structure of comics as a means to describe the ways that indeterminate modes of representation can allow the reader to imagine that which in childhood can never be fully expressed. Analyzing a number of panels from Gilbert Hernandez's graphic novel, Marble Season, I describe a conceptual link between the psychoanalytic idea of sublimation (referencing the theories of Freud, Loewald, and Winnicott), and Raymond Williams' notion of a \"structure of feeling.\" In particular, I examine the latency stage of childhood as a time where the challenges of individual development involve a struggle to channel into the social world, in potentially productive ways, the internalizations of lost love. I also explore how the gutter, the space between the panels in comics, may function as a zone of sublimatory reconciliation between the self and the object world, and where, in their interactions with the space in the middle, the reader invariably engages with the structure of childhood feeling as a product of their own reading.

In this paper, I discuss the process of developing a piece of writing for publication. Written for an intended audience of graduate students in the field of education, I discuss writing for publication as an arrangement for significance, the question of finding a discursive and intellectual home, the selection of an appropriate journal in which to publish, the importance of spaces and rituals of writing, and the conversational dynamics of peer review.