JT Blog: December 2024

Thursday, December 12, 2024

Promoting Healthy Silence and Solitude Amid Digital Overload [DRAFT ONLY]

Janpha Thadphoothon and Yongyuth Khamkhong

In today’s hyperconnected world, Thailand is not immune to the challenges of digital overload. Excessive use of social media and electronic devices among children, teens, and even adults has raised alarms across the nation. Stories of toddlers glued to screens and teenagers struggling with digital addiction are increasingly common. This concern has not gone unnoticed, yet many feel the Thai authorities have been slow to act decisively.

The Impact of Digital Overload

Yuval Noah Harari told us that we have had far too much information.

Digital devices, while essential in many ways, have disrupted traditional human interactions and compromised our ability to focus. The younger generation is particularly vulnerable, with many children as young as three or four years old exposed to hours of screen time daily. This not only affects their mental health but also hinders their social and cognitive development.

Adults, too, are not spared. Many find themselves trapped in endless social media scrolling or working long hours online, leaving little room for reflection, real-world connections, or mindfulness.

The Need for Silence and Solitude

Silence and solitude are essential for mental clarity, emotional well-being, and focus. They allow individuals to recharge, process their thoughts, and develop creativity. Yet, in the age of constant notifications, achieving such moments has become increasingly difficult.

What Thailand Can Learn from Australia

Recently, Australia made headlines by approving the world’s strictest laws to regulate children's access to social media. The new law will ban children under 16 from using social media platforms without parental consent. Companies that fail to comply could face fines of up to A$50m ($32.5m; £25.7m). Although the law will not take effect for at least 12 months, it sends a powerful message about prioritizing children's mental health and well-being.

Thailand could draw inspiration from this bold move by enacting stricter regulations on screen time for children. Such policies could serve as a foundation for broader initiatives to combat digital addiction and promote healthier habits.

Emerging Trends in Thailand

Although Thailand’s response to digital overload has been slower, some positive trends are emerging:

1. Digital Detox Campaigns

Several non-governmental organizations (NGOs) and schools have initiated digital detox campaigns. These programs encourage families to designate "screen-free" hours, particularly during meals or bedtime, to foster better relationships and communication.

2. Mindfulness and Meditation Practices in Schools

Mindfulness and meditation, rooted in Thai Buddhist traditions, are making a comeback in schools. These practices help children and teens develop focus and emotional regulation. For example, some schools now start the day with 10 minutes of guided meditation, offering students a moment of calm before engaging in their studies.

3. Nature-Based Activities

There has been a renewed push to reconnect with nature. Programs that encourage outdoor activities, such as hiking, gardening, or weekend family trips to national parks, are gaining popularity. Spending time in nature not only reduces screen dependency but also promotes mindfulness and well-being.

4. Community Engagement Projects

Community-driven activities, such as local sports events, art workshops, and cultural festivals, provide opportunities for individuals to engage in meaningful face-to-face interactions. These events are increasingly being designed to encourage participants to leave their devices behind.

5. Government and Health Authority Interventions

While the Thai Ministry of Public Health has begun rolling out awareness campaigns about the dangers of excessive screen time, their efforts lack the boldness of Australia’s new law. Thailand could benefit from implementing similar strict measures to regulate children's social media use.

Recommendations for Moving Forward

To address digital overload effectively, Thailand should adopt a multi-pronged approach:

Parental Guidance: Parents play a crucial role in setting boundaries for screen time and modeling balanced digital habits.
Policy Implementation: The government should consider stricter guidelines, similar to Australia’s, to regulate children’s access to social media.
Promoting Human Interaction: Schools and workplaces should prioritize activities that foster human connections, such as team-building exercises and collaborative projects.
Personal Accountability: Each individual must recognize the importance of setting aside time for reflection, self-care, and meaningful offline experiences.

Final Thoughts

The digital age has brought immense benefits, but it has also created challenges that require urgent attention. Thailand’s emerging efforts to promote silence and solitude are promising, but there is still much to be done. By looking to Australia’s decisive actions as a model and strengthening local initiatives, Thailand can create an environment where silence, mindfulness, and meaningful connections thrive.

Let us all take a moment to pause, reflect, and reconnect—not just with our devices, but with ourselves and the world around us.

L2 Voice in Writing: A Must in the Digital Age

By Janpha Thadphoothon

In today's digital landscape, having a distinct and personal voice in writing is no longer optional—it’s a must. This applies not only to non-native English writers but also to native speakers navigating the vast ocean of content created by both humans and AI. The ability to express oneself authentically and uniquely has become a valuable skill in an era dominated by generative AI tools capable of producing vast amounts of text in a "generic" voice.

In the field of applied linguistics, this concept is often referred to as L2 Voice in Writing. It explores how non-native speakers express themselves in a second language (L2), highlighting how writers represent their identities through their words. This self-representation is achieved through a combination of discursive features (like word choice and sentence structure) and non-discursive elements (like tone and style).

Unique Voice versus Generic Voice

One of the dangers in the digital age is the temptation to let your voice fade into obscurity. This is particularly relevant when using AI tools, which excel at producing polished but generic text. While AI-generated content may be grammatically accurate and contextually relevant, it often lacks the personal touch and originality that come from authentic self-expression.

To prevent this, writers must be conscious of their unique voice—whether they are native or non-native English speakers. Your voice is what makes your writing memorable, persuasive, and truly yours. It reflects your personality, your background, and your purpose, setting you apart from a sea of indistinguishable content.

Navigating Voice in Academic Discourse

In academic writing, there is a tension between maintaining objectivity and expressing individuality. Traditionally, academia has emphasized detachment, neutrality, and precision. Writers are often encouraged to remove themselves from the text, focusing on evidence and analysis rather than personal perspective. While this approach ensures credibility and minimizes bias, it can inadvertently suppress the writer's voice, especially for L2 writers who already face challenges in asserting their identity in a second language.

This long-held belief—that academic writing should be devoid of personal identity—deserves reexamination. As the boundaries of academia continue to evolve, there is growing recognition of the value of diversity, not just in the content of research but in the way it is presented. An academic paper, after all, is not just about data and conclusions; it is also about the researcher’s unique perspective, cultural lens, and interpretative approach.

Why Identity and Uniqueness Matter in Academia

Diversity Enriches Discourse: When writers bring their own cultural, linguistic, and intellectual backgrounds into their work, it enhances the richness of academic dialogue. Different voices lead to new interpretations and a broader understanding of complex issues.
Engagement and Accessibility: Academic writing can often feel distant and inaccessible. Injecting personality and individuality can make it more relatable, engaging a wider audience beyond specialists.
Innovation through Perspective: Uniqueness in academic writing allows for innovative ways of thinking and presenting ideas, which is crucial for fields that thrive on creativity and fresh insights.

Balancing Objectivity with Voice

To incorporate identity without compromising academic rigor, writers can:

Show Voice Through Choices: Select specific language, metaphors, or analogies that resonate with your background or experiences, as long as they align with the academic tone.
Use Reflexivity: Explicitly acknowledge your role as a researcher in the study. Reflexive writing can highlight your positionality and unique contribution.
Be Strategic with First-Person Writing: While many academic traditions discourage the use of “I,” some fields now welcome it, particularly when it clarifies your role or viewpoint in the research process.
Focus on Original Interpretation: Even in the most data-driven papers, the interpretation and argumentation reflect the writer's intellectual identity.

A Call for Change

The academic world is beginning to shift. Journals, conferences, and educational institutions increasingly value diverse voices, recognizing that true objectivity is a myth. Every piece of research is shaped by the writer’s perspective, whether it is explicit or hidden. By embracing this, academia can become a more inclusive and dynamic space.

It is time to challenge the outdated belief that academic writing must erase the writer. Instead, academic discourse should celebrate identity as a strength, allowing researchers to make their voices heard—not silenced in the name of objectivity.

Would you like to include examples of academics who have successfully integrated their unique voice into their work?

Why L2 Voice Matters

For L2 writers, cultivating a strong voice is even more critical. Writing in a second language is not just about mastering grammar and vocabulary; it’s about making your ideas resonate. Your voice conveys confidence, authenticity, and a sense of ownership over the language you are using. In academic, professional, or creative contexts, a strong L2 voice can help establish credibility and foster engagement with your audience.

Moreover, embracing your L2 voice means acknowledging and celebrating the unique perspectives you bring to the language. Non-native speakers often blend cultural and linguistic nuances that can enrich their writing, offering fresh insights that native speakers might overlook.

How to Develop Your L2 Voice

Know Your Audience: Tailor your tone and style to the people you are addressing. This ensures relevance while still maintaining authenticity.
Be Intentional with AI Tools: Use generative AI as a support, not a replacement. Edit and personalize AI-generated content to align with your voice.
Experiment with Style: Try different approaches to express your ideas, from informal and conversational to formal and academic.
Seek Feedback: Share your work with peers or mentors who can provide constructive input on how your voice comes across.
Read Widely: Exposure to diverse writing styles can inspire you and help you refine your own voice.

Final Thoughts

In the digital age, where content is abundant and often homogenized, having a distinct voice in writing is essential for standing out. For L2 writers, this means embracing the challenges of expressing oneself in a second language while leveraging the unique perspectives that come with it.

Your voice is your superpower—don’t let it disappear into the generic hum of AI-generated text. Let it shine, not just as an expression of your ideas, but as a reflection of who you are.

Wednesday, December 4, 2024

Fading Memories and Writing: Personal Reflections

Janpha Thadphoothon

In this blog post, I reflect on my past experiences with writing—not just as a practice, but as a profound process of self-discovery. Through these reflections, I aim to share lessons that have shaped my journey, both for my own growth and for the benefit of my readers.

The key lessons I've learned are:

Writing anything, no matter how small, is always worthwhile.
Keeping your writings safe and accessible is invaluable.

Writing is more than a chore, an assignment to be submitted, or a mere reminder. It is a way of constructing and preserving one’s identity—a process of capturing fleeting moments and giving them meaning. Writing, in essence, becomes a bridge between memory and selfhood.

I recently rediscovered my "lost notes"—scribbles and diary entries dating back to 2001. That was a time when I was in Canberra, Australia, pursuing my doctorate. These notes, stored on my computer and preserved over the years, have proven to be both revealing and invaluable. They transport me across time and dimensions, bringing me back to those moments with remarkable clarity.

Looking back, I felt as though I had stepped into the past, as vividly as if it had all happened yesterday. I could hardly believe it—names of people I had known, classmates, friends, moments of anguish and happiness—all came rushing back, unfolding before me with remarkable clarity. It was as if these memories were as tangible as the pile of books and the computer monitor right in front of me.

These memories mean a great deal to me, and I cherish them as an integral part of my life. If someone were to offer me a pile of gold in exchange for these memories, I doubt I would make the trade. Some questions continue to occupy my mind, questions I still wrestle with—what is reality? And how do we strike a balance between freedom and structure? These reflections remain a profound part of my journey.

At first, I saw these notes as a burden—who would ever need them? Over the years, I lost many of my notes while moving between houses and apartments, and I deeply regret not having them with me anymore. Lost notes, letters, and diaries feel like fragments of myself slipping away. There’s something profoundly personal about looking at my own handwriting, seeing the crossed-out words and erased lines. They reveal how I corrected myself, revised my thoughts, and refined my emotions—a tangible record of my evolving mind and heart.

Those lost notes, letters, and diary entries, upon reflection, are a part of life’s reality—it’s not perfect. We must accept our limitations and the inevitability of some losses. Perhaps there’s a reason why certain memories fade from our existence. The names of people we once knew, the places we visited, the streets we’ll never walk again—all these hold the mysteries and beauty of life. They are, in their own way, reflections of the best parts of myself.

Writing is about creating space and expanding the dimension of time—broadening one's horizons. I am grateful to those who have taught me how to write and helped me appreciate the true charm of writing.

Janpha Thadphoothon is a lecturer of English at the Faculty of Arts, the International College, Dhurakij Pundit University (DPU) in Bangkok, Thailand.

Noises and Disorderly Mentality : The Case of Australia

Noises and Disorderly Mentality : The Case of Australia [Work in Progress ONLY]

Janpha Thadphoothon [Work in Progress ONLY]

Noises are often distract us. In the age of information, we seem to have too much information - some would more likely considered 'noises' e.g. misleading information.

Loss of time using social media depends on how we use it for.

Tuesday, December 3, 2024

The Project-Based Instruction in 2001 in Australia

Janpha Thadphoothon

August 2001 marked a pivotal moment in my academic journey as a doctoral student in Canberra, Australia. It was a time when I discovered the transformative power of Project-Based Instruction (PBI) through my involvement in the Radio Project. This experience not only shaped my understanding of teaching and learning but also left an indelible impression on my approach to education.

August 1, 2001: Setting the Stage

On August 1, I jotted down some notes that have stayed with me to this day:

"We helped each other set up the working timetable. As time was running out, we decided on what needed to be done and when."

At the time, I was referring to the Radio Project—a collaborative initiative that required us to plan, execute, and deliver a creative and meaningful piece of work. It was the first time I fully immersed myself in the dynamics of Project-Based Instruction, and the process was as enlightening as the outcome.

The Beauty of Project-Based Instruction

The Radio Project introduced me to the essence of PBI: learning through doing. Unlike traditional instruction, which often emphasizes rote memorization or isolated tasks, PBI places learners in real-world scenarios where they must apply their knowledge, solve problems, and collaborate with others.

In my case, the Radio Project required us to:

Define clear goals: We set specific objectives for what we wanted the project to achieve.
Organize responsibilities: Each team member took on a distinct role, ensuring that the workload was balanced and manageable.
Collaborate effectively: Communication and cooperation were essential as we navigated the challenges of producing a cohesive final product.
Reflect on progress: Regular meetings allowed us to evaluate our progress and make adjustments as needed.

This structure taught me invaluable lessons about time management, teamwork, and the importance of adaptability—all skills that extend far beyond the classroom.

Learning by Doing

The most profound aspect of the Radio Project was how it blurred the lines between theory and practice. While we had studied the principles of effective communication and educational technologies in class, the project required us to apply those principles in a tangible way.

For instance, we had to create scripts that were not only engaging but also educational, taking into account the needs and interests of our intended audience. This process involved brainstorming, drafting, editing, and rehearsing—all of which demanded critical thinking and creativity.

Personal Growth

Reflecting on the experience, I realize how much I grew during this time. The project pushed me out of my comfort zone, forcing me to take risks and embrace the uncertainties that come with collaborative work. It also taught me the value of persistence—how to keep moving forward even when things didn’t go as planned.

I vividly remember the sense of accomplishment we felt when the project was finally completed. It wasn’t just about delivering a finished product; it was about the journey of learning, experimenting, and growing together as a team.

A Lasting Impact

In my opinion, Project-Based Instruction is one of the most effective ways to foster deep learning. It engages students on multiple levels—intellectually, emotionally, and socially—and prepares them for the complexities of real-world challenges.

Looking back, I’m grateful for the opportunity to experience PBI firsthand through the Radio Project. It was a defining moment in my academic life, one that has continued to influence my teaching philosophy and practices.

Conclusion

The Radio Project in August 2001 was more than just an academic assignment; it was a window into the possibilities of education when learning is active, collaborative, and purposeful. As an educator, I carry these lessons with me, striving to create similar opportunities for my own students to explore, experiment, and excel.

Project-Based Instruction is not merely a method—it’s a mindset, one that embraces the idea that learning happens best when we are fully engaged in the process. And for that, I will always look back on 2001 with fondness and gratitude.

The Reminiscence of My Early Academic Life

Janpha Thadphoothon

During Semester 2 of 2001, I embarked on a remarkable academic journey as a doctoral student at the University of Canberra, Australia. Looking back, it was a formative year, filled with exploration, growth, and occasional moments of doubt. Back then, I was young and a bit naïve, but eager to learn and to immerse myself in the academic culture of a new environment.

I vividly remember spending most of my time attending seminars, participating in special lectures, and working on my research papers. I had a small room in Building 20 and often divided my time between the self-learning center and the library. Occasionally, I would chat with other research students and staff in the School of Languages, exchanging ideas and experiences. This rhythm of academic life was both exhilarating and overwhelming, but in my opinion, it offered the perfect balance of intellectual challenge and personal growth.

Classes I Attended

During that semester, I enrolled in two core courses: TELL-B and Critical Pedagogy 2. These classes were scheduled on Mondays and Wednesdays, creating a rhythm that alternated between theory and practice. Mondays were dedicated to theoretical explorations, where ideas were dissected and debated. Wednesdays, on the other hand, were focused on practical applications, allowing us to see how theories could be transformed into tangible outcomes.

The course designer had intentionally crafted this dual approach to bridge the gap between abstract concepts and real-world relevance. You would agree with me that this balance is essential for any learner to grasp the true essence of academic learning.

Reflections on the Radio Project

One of the highlights of the semester was the Radio Project, an initiative that brought together creativity, collaboration, and communication. The project challenged us to develop content that resonated with diverse audiences, requiring us to think critically and work cohesively as a team.

I remember vividly how our group meetings were filled with animated discussions about scripts, formats, and target audiences. It occurred to me that this project was not just about creating a radio show; it was a microcosm of the broader challenges of academic collaboration—listening, adapting, and contributing meaningfully.

The project also helped me develop a deeper appreciation for the role of media in education. It was through this experience that I began to see the potential of technology as a tool for empowering learners and disseminating knowledge.

Critical Pedagogy 2: A Journey of Questioning

Critical Pedagogy 2 was another transformative experience. This course was not about easy answers but about asking hard questions. What is education for? Whose interests does it serve? How do we create spaces where learners can critically engage with the world around them?

One of the key themes we explored was the idea of empowerment through education. It occurred to me that true learning happens when students are encouraged to question and to challenge the status quo. This resonated deeply with me, shaping my approach to teaching and learning in the years to come.

Monday, July 23, 2001: A Memorable Lecture on Time

Among the many lectures I attended, one that stands out was delivered by Ms. Ania Lian on Monday, July 23. The topic, as far as I can remember, was The Notion of Time, and it left an indelible impression on me.

The lecture began with a fundamental and thought-provoking question: “What is reality?” This seemingly simple question opened the door to a deep and engaging discussion about perception, change, and the fluid nature of time. I vividly remember grappling with the concept of reality during the lecture, trying to make sense of what it truly means.

What is real, I thought, is often what is presented to us as being real—but how can we truly know if it is? Is it merely an interpretation shaped by our senses, culture, or assumptions? These reflections led me to realize that understanding reality requires us to critically investigate the world around us. It isn’t about accepting things at face value but about questioning, probing, and seeking deeper truths.

This lecture sparked in me a habit of critical thinking and reflection that I carry to this day. It taught me that reality is not a fixed concept but a construct shaped by perspectives, and it is through curiosity and inquiry that we come closer to understanding the world and our place in it.

Ms. Lian encouraged us to think about how we perceive change. She argued that our understanding of reality is shaped by our perceptions, which are, in turn, influenced by our cultural and personal contexts. It occurred to me that this perspective was not just theoretical but deeply practical, influencing how we approach everything from research to daily life.

Beyond the Classroom: Seminars and Conferences

Outside the structured classroom environment, I actively sought out learning opportunities. I participated in several seminars each week, ranging from intimate departmental discussions to larger public forums. Occasionally, I traveled to attend conferences at other universities, broadening my horizons and exposing myself to diverse perspectives.

One memorable event was a public seminar on educational technologies at a neighboring institution. The discussions were vibrant, and the insights I gained helped me refine my understanding of how technology could be integrated into teaching practices. These experiences reinforced my belief that academic growth is not confined to the classroom; it flourishes in the exchange of ideas across disciplines and institutions.

Lessons Learned

Looking back on that semester, I can identify several key lessons that have stayed with me:

The Importance of Balance: The interplay between theory and practice, as exemplified in the TELL-B and Critical Pedagogy 2 courses, underscored the importance of balancing abstract thinking with tangible application.
Collaboration as a Learning Tool: The Radio Project taught me that working with others—despite the inevitable challenges—can lead to richer outcomes and deeper understanding.
The Value of Questioning: Critical Pedagogy 2 reminded me that education is not about memorizing facts but about cultivating a mindset of inquiry and reflection.
Time as a Construct: Ms. Lian’s lecture on time challenged me to rethink my assumptions about reality and change, a perspective that continues to influence my teaching and research.

A Journey Worth Remembering

In my opinion, the experiences of Semester 2/2001 were more than just academic milestones; they were stepping stones that shaped my identity as a scholar and an educator. Back then, I was navigating a new country, a new academic system, and new ideas—all of which contributed to a transformative journey.

You would agree with me that such moments of immersion and challenge are what make academic life so fulfilling. They push us out of our comfort zones and compel us to grow in ways we never anticipated.

Conclusion

Reflecting on my early academic life, I am filled with gratitude for the opportunities I had and the lessons I learned. It was a time of discovery, growth, and the occasional stumble, all of which have contributed to the person I am today.

As I look back, I am reminded of the words of one of my mentors: “Learning is not about arriving at answers; it’s about staying curious.” In my opinion, this curiosity is the essence of academic life—and of life itself.

Note: I rewrote and expanded my notes, and I’m glad I took them—even if they were just rough scribbles at the time.