Part of my Fulbright orientation was an introductory comparison between the Danish educational system and the U.S. educational system, including what we might expect from Danish students.

In terms of comparing the educational systems and experiences with students, I have found that some of the observations between Denmark and America don’t ring true to my experience as a professor at the University of Maine at Augusta (even though some resonate with my undergraduate and graduate experiences). There are certainly differences, but the distance between my American students in Maine and my Danish students in Denmark may not be as wide as it could be.

At Danish universities, there are no fraternities or sororities and there is no sports culture, particularly the kind you find at big American universities. So, while I got plenty of Go Cougs! and Beaver Nation! at Washington State and Oregon State Universities during my graduate studies, at UMA we don’t really have much of a sports culture and we don’t have a football team.

Related: much of Danish students’ social life takes place off campus. Since UMA is a commuter campus (or, rather, a set of commuter campuses), this rings true for my students as well. In both contexts, we work to try to make spaces and opportunities for students to socialize.

Few students live on campus in Denmark. UMA has no dorms so no students live on campus!

UMA has a confusing name. The University of Southern Denmark also has a confusing name, or set of names. The abbreviation of SDU throws us American off and I have heard the Danish name for the university, but have yet to pin it down with my developing language skills.

Danish students call their professors by their first names. One professor explained that when he taught at Mississippi State e could not get his students to call him by his first name, but in Denmark he can’t get them to address him formally. I have always asked my students to call me by my first name and feel very uncomfortable when students address me with the American version of respect.

While I have been told the Danes can be big drinkers, and there are even bars on campus (whether formal or informal), at UMA we are not allowed to purchase alcohol with university funds and we are rarely allowed to consume alcohol on campus.

I have been told: Here in Denmark many students don’t attend classes since it is not required. There is an understanding that Danish students are adults and they should have independence and freedom. It is the students’ responsibility to learn the class material so they can pass their exam at (or after) the end of the semester. Further, students may not participate in classes as fully as American students and may have a more ambivalent attitude toward their education. While attendance may be sorely lacking at UMA, and I have certainly encountered students who do not wish to participate, I do find that most of my students (who are “non-traditional” compared to the Danish) are highly engaged and invested in their educations. They have often sacrificed a lot for their education and end up with crippling debt.

In Denmark, there are high dropout rates, especially in the first year and many students just never finish their education at the bachelor’s, master’s, and doctorate levels, even though that education is “free” and they are paid a generous stipend to be a student once they reach the age of eighteen. (PhD students are actually employees of the university with a full salary!) UMA suffers from a similar set of problems (low attendance and completion rates), but for what may (possibly) be an entirely different set of reasons. I will have more to say about these similarities and their fundamental differences in future blogs!

All of these observations are based upon my preconceived notions from research, conversation, and Fulbright orientation, so I am excited to see what more I learn this year… beginning with my first class on Wednesday!

Besides understanding almost nothing spoken to me by the Danish and being lost every time I have tried to find my way around Odense (Copenhagen has been far easier to navigate!), the things I share in common with the Danish (according to my orientation and observations so far) make me think I might be Danish…

The Danes wear a lot of black. Welcome to my wardrobe.

The Danes mostly wear what we call tennis shoes or sneakers. I don’t believe in wearing uncomfortable shoes and pretty much wear my (Saucony or Adidas) tennis shoes all the time.

The Danes respect privacy and I tend to be a rather private person (not counting my professional life!). I’ve been told it can be difficult to make friends with the Danish and their established social circles, but (being shy and a bit of a homebody) I have always found it hard to make friends.

The Danish cultural staple of hygge is pretty much what I strive for in my life (of course I have much more to learn about hygge!).

The Danish believe in work/life balance and taking care of people. I have often let my work/life balance suffer because of my tendency to take care of people (and myself), but this is one of the things I have been working on over the last few years and have gotten closer to achieving through my recent sabbatical and current Fulbright.

The Danes like to eat and drink. Clearly I do not enjoy these activities (sarcasm!). Bread and cheese (after pork and fish) are staples of the Danish diet and I have fallen in love with at least four varieties of bread that I have had. (Stay tuned for more on brød!)

There are other similarities as well, but not everything can be the same. I am not much of a bike-rider and prefer to walk; however, I have certainly experienced the pleasure and freedom that a bike can bring and may end up becoming a bike lover or at least biking out of necessity.

And, while I have read that the Danes are literal-minded and don’t understand sarcasm, I have been assured by at least several Danes that this is totally true (but their answer was delivered sarcastically!). Since most of my daily conversation and teaching is rather sarcastic, I was really worried that my students would not understand my sarcasm or sense of humor at all. So, now I don’t have to worry quite as much!

Finally, the Danes value their participatory democracy, support their welfare state, and believe in equality (achieved through an interventionist state and the redistribution of wealth) and strive for flat hierarchies and egalitarian ethos. My “socialist” tendencies mesh much better with the Danes, but I still have much to unpack regarding these similarities, particularly the Danish tendency toward social cohesion that may lead toward resentment toward immigrants in some cases.

When I wrote my applications for a sabbatical (spring 2018) and a Fulbright (Fall 18 and Spring 19), I expected to get neither. Instead, I got both. My proposed sabbatical project(s) ended up being very different, in part because I was not quite ready to dive into that particular project. And project directions always change. This is the case for my Fulbright as well.

My proposed Fulbright project resulted from my attempts to imagine this place I had not been and what I might like to learn. It was ultimately not one cohesive project, but reflections on the ways in which my Fulbright experience would complement and extend my work in three general areas: girls’ cultures, fitness cultures, and educational systems. My title: Consciousness and Movement in Girls’ Cultures and Fitness Cultures.

Teaching in a foreign educational system will certainly be a challenge and will, I hope, help me to develop my pedagogies and programs for American studies and interdisciplinary studies. I will also be co-teaching an American studies theory and methods course with one of my Danish colleagues; we started working on the syllabus when I was on sabbatical. Perhaps most exciting, I will also have the opportunity to work with graduate students for the first time, and I am already advising a B.A. student's thesis project about black feminism and Beyoncé’s Lemonade.
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When I had more time to really start doing some pre-Fulbright research about Denmark (again, during my sabbatical), the part of my project surrounding girls’ cultures and fitness cultures evolved into a more specific project that considers the Danish concept and practice of hygge (hoo-gah) and the concept and practice I have taught and studied (and preached and tried to practice) in the U.S.—self-care. I am interested in how Danes understand and practice hygge and how these practices and understandings can help me understand, develop, and extend the concept of self-care. My new working title is: Understanding Self-Care through Hygge (hoo-gah): An Interdisciplinary Exploration of Danish and American Culture.

Hyyge has no one-word translation in English, but is often understood as “cozy.” This simplification stems, at least in part, from the fact that hygge is not just a concept or a style or something you adopt for certain occasions or certain spaces, it is a foundational aspect of Danish culture and identity. In the U.S. and the U.K., we look to the concept of hygge to help explain why the Danes are cited as some of the happiest people in the world as well as to give advice on how to find this concept in, for instance, the design of classroom spaces and having a cozy lifestyle to survive winter. But this is, I think, a shallow understanding of a much deeper concept.

I’m excited to learn more about hygge and Denmark, and I plan to learn many other things along the way… I have already learned so much in just a few days!

When I teach American Studies to U.S. students, I often have to help them unpack the years of stereotypes and partial truths that they were raised on and brainwashed by, I mean, educated through. For some students, the critiques and questions of American Studies click right away and they usually take as many of my classes as they can fit into their program. For other students, the discomfort and discord is a constant struggle though almost all of them report that it was a worthwhile struggle.

My Denmark students have chosen to study America and I want to know why. I want to know what is different about the ways in which Danish students see and understand America, and what interests them about America as a subject of study—whether they are taking an undergrad class for elective credit or have chosen to pursue a graduate education in the subject.

How do Danish students learn about America—in school and outside of school? Are they critical? Curious? Confused? Will they be interested in the subject matter I will be teaching? (How could they not be: hip-hop and young adult dystopia?!) Or will they prefer the more conventional (and still fascinating) subject matter of American studies—the histories and the classics, for instance.

And, of course, I expect I will learn far more than I will teach—about Denmark, about my subject matter, about myself. While the American Studies I teach is “critical,” I wonder if I will discover a latent American exceptionalism that is part of the core of being an American. I wonder if my enthusiasm and passion and some of my less conventional approaches will scare them or engage them (or both).

While I am prepared to teach my subject matter, this is the least prepared I have felt this close to the start of a semester. In addition to not really knowing what to expect from my students, I also have not been to campus and I have not seen my office or my classrooms. I have no idea how many students are in my classes, and I don’t even know what day and time I am teaching one of my classes. While these questions will be answered soon enough, the bigger questions will take more work.
To quote Hamilton (which I will be teaching): “Let’s go.”

Teaching many varieties of mind/body fitness dance has come with far more failures than successes. Of course, I guess it depends upon how we define failure. Ultimately, moving one person—literally or figuratively—is a success. And I know I have moved many. But, still, the medium of fitness/dance/yoga meets intersectional feminism is not easy territory.

Failure is not something we talk a lot about. We don’t celebrate our failures; we might even hide them. And when we see successful people, their failures are not usually part of the picture. But they are there and they shape us and what we do.

During my eight-month sabbatical, remote summer teaching, and an extended vacation, I experienced many failures, especially in the fitness world. My “Yoga Outside the Box” series in McCall, Idaho had decent attendance for the first class, and then the second two classes failed to attract anyone. While there are many reasons why attendance can be so dismal, it is difficult not to take such a failure to heart. I had put hours into designing this series and was excited to share it with my new yoga community. But I had not been able to establish a yoga community and this failure led me to re-think my future yoga directions.

I also attempted to schedule a Girls on Fire mind/body dance fitness class at Washington State University’s Student Recreation Center—something I have wanted to do since I stopped teaching classes there when I finished my PhD. My initial contact was answered immediately, but after two phone calls and multiple emails, we failed to set a date in time to promote the class and make the kinds of connections I wanted to make and things fell apart. After this failure, I felt ready to give up on this thing I have such a passion for, this thing that is quirky (and thus intimidating) in a fitness world where the box has a strong hold.

And bad timing caused me to be unable to schedule a guest class at the Jazzercise studio in El Cajon where I took classes, recovered from injuries, and re-grew my commitment to fitness. After six weeks of taking Jazzercise classes, I knew the women in this space would be willing to try this Girls on Fire thing. They danced so freely. I rethought my Girls on Fire Class Format as well as other directions and developments for this work and I have an invitation to teach a class next time I am in town.

All of these failures have led to several possible opportunities for success:

I now have two versions of my Girls on Fire class: yoga-centered with a splash of dance and fitness dance with a splash of yoga. Both versions have developed new aspects of the critical art of mind/body fitness.

I developed new directions for my yoga teaching and new fusions of yoga and dance. Because I also completed my 200 hours of training for my RYT certification, I feel more prepared to explore and develop this aspect of my critical and creative work.

My ego is slightly bruised and I feel more humble as I return to my home ground before I embark into more new territory.

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Returning to my home crowd at the Bangor YMCA is both exciting and scary. I have not taught this thing I have been working on and it is a bit different than what they are used to. I have developed the story-telling aspect of my mind/body fitness dance and infused dance with yoga. It can be just a dance fitness class as much as a moving mind/body experience. Will they like it or will it be too far outside the box?

What is scarier, perhaps, is that in less than a week I am leaving for Denmark and I am taking this work with me. I will be teaching a graduate-level Girls on Fire: YA Dystopia and American Futures class (and a Hip-Hop America class as well as team teaching a theory and methods course), and if the students are open to the idea, I intend to offer this Girls on Fire mind/body fitness dance as an example of ideas from class in action. My American students are sometimes willing, I wonder if students in Denmark will be open to this artistic/critical interpretation.

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Since I am an optimist, and internally driven, I rarely pause to think about the many failures that have gotten me where I am today. I’m more likely to imbue my successes with doubt. But my sabbatical forced me to have time and experiences that were outside my comfort zone and to reflect upon what I learned and where I want to go. My Girls on Fire work reminds me that failure is not an option; when we are passionate about something and willing to do the work, we find success even in failure because we were brave enough to try.