Stonehenge, an example of what we may consider an important cultural artifact. What about the context, the meaning, the purpose, the protocols, the processes? Image: Pixabay. |
Wisdom is not in cultural things, but in cultural processes and protocols.
With this quote (Yunkaporta, T., 2023, Right Story, Wrong Story: Adventures in Indigenous Thinking, p. 201), I would like to invite us into a profound reorientation of how we think about interaction, relationality, and care, as well as their role in teaching. In a world often obsessed with finalised outputs (what we think we know, what we produce, what we create, what we consume, for example different forms of knowledge, art, music, stories, texts, and so on), Yunkaporta reminds us that true wisdom lies not in the artifacts of culture, but in the living systems of relationship and behaviour that sustain the situated co-creation of what could be called 'culture'.
As a teacher, I find this
insightful when thinking about pedagogies of care and kindness (c.f. Noddings
1982; 1992; 2003; Denial 2024). They are not merely strategies or frameworks
to be implemented; they are ways of being. They emerge from the
protocols we enact daily: How we listen, how we respond, how we hold space for
others. They are embedded in the processes of reciprocity, humility, and
respect that shape our interactions with students, colleagues, and communities.
In this blog, I would
like to explore what it means to consider pedagogical care as an embedded cultural
process rather than an extra set of guidelines to follow. What does kindness
look like when it is not an added guideline to follow, but an embedded
protocol? How do we design learning environments that honour relational wisdom
rather than mere transactions? And how might Indigenous ways of knowing, as
articulated by Yunkaporta (c.f. Sand Talk) and so many others, help us in the reimagining of education as a practice
of collective care, of collective well-being?
The fabric of meaningful education
To understand the
pedagogical implications of Tyson Yunkaporta’s insight, we must first explore
the distinction he draws between cultural things and cultural
processes and protocols. In Euro-centric educational paradigms, culture is often
treated as a static object: Something to be studied, preserved, or represented.
This objectification can lead to a focus on
outcomes over relationships.
In contrast, Indigenous
knowledge systems, such as those Yunkaporta draws from, emphasise relationality.
Knowledge is not a commodity but a living practice, embedded in the protocols
of how people relate to each other, to land, and to the more-than-human world.
These protocols are not written rules but embodied ways of being: listening
deeply, showing respect, sharing responsibility, and maintaining balance in
everything we do.
This relational ontology invites pedagogy back to its roots. It invites us to see teaching and learning as acts of care, grounded in reciprocity
and responsiveness. Pedagogies of care and kindness, then, are not
add-ons or supplements to “real” instruction. They are the very
fabric of meaningful education.
Yunkaporta’s work also
resonates with the concept of “cultural interface”, where Indigenous and
Euro-centric systems meet. At this interface, educators can engage in two-way
learning, recognising that wisdom arises not from assimilating one system
into another, but from respectfully navigating the synergies between them. This requires humility, openness, and a commitment to protocols
that honour difference without domination.
In this light, pedagogies
of care become not just ethical choices but epistemological commitments. They
ask us to reimagine education as a space where knowledge is co-created through
respectful interaction, where kindness is a protocol for sustaining community,
and where wisdom is found not in what we teach, but in how we teach, and how we
live.
Tentative practical examples
In my own teaching
practice, I’ve found that pedagogies of care and kindness are most powerful
when they emerge from shared processes rather than imposed structures. For
example, due to the inevitable presence of AI in language learning, this autumn semester I will be
inviting students to experiment with me on the use of an agent, Academic
English Writing Support, that I created on M365 Copilot. We will be testing and co-creating
prompts, reflecting on the feedback provided by the Writing Support bot, as
well as analysing the usefulness of the AI tool together. I am hoping this will shift the focus
to collaborative inquiry, where care is enacted through open dialogue and
mutual respect.
Another example comes
from a recent seminar where I spoke about the critical and multifaceted use of
AI in language education. Rather than presenting a polished argument, I chose
to model vulnerability, sharing my own uncertainties and inviting colleagues to
do the same. This protocol of openness creates a space where kindness is not
just encouraged but structurally supported. Pedagogies of care are not about adding a
sentimental extra to your teaching; they are about creating a space for learning through intentional
behaviour.
I’ve also noticed that
when students are invited to participate in the discussion on how we establish
a safe space for one another, the learning environment becomes more inclusive
and responsive. This includes reaching shared agreement on so called “house
rules”, such as establishing confidentiality, and discussing how peer feedback should be given
or how small group discussions or collaboration should be honoured. These
protocols, though simple, carry deep wisdom. They teach us that kindness is not
about being nice; it’s about empathy, about being attuned to others and acting
accordingly.
In each of these
examples, the emphasis is on how we do things, not just what we
do. This is the heart of Yunkaporta’s insight: Wisdom lives in the protocols we
enact, the processes we uphold, and the relationships we nurture.
Invitation
As educators, we are
constantly navigating the tension between structure and spontaneity, between
curriculum and community. Yunkaporta’s reminder that wisdom lives in cultural
processes and protocols, not in artifacts, offers us a way to
reimagine our pedagogical commitments. It invites us to ask not just what
we teach, but how we interact in the world and with the world.
Pedagogies of care and
kindness are not just strategies to be deployed; they are about relationships
to be nurtured. They ask us to listen more deeply, to act more intentionally,
and to honour the wisdom embedded in everyday interactions. Whether we are
designing a course, facilitating or participating in a meeting, or responding
to a student’s email, we are always participating through a chosen protocol – one that can
either reinforce well-being or erode it. Which will we choose?
So I invite us all to reflect:
- What are the protocols we uphold in our teaching and interaction?
- What processes shape the way we care for our students, our colleagues, and ourselves?
- How might we, together, cultivate a pedagogy that promotes well-being?
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