A Day of Celebrations, Conversations, and Community

On 2 May, I had the absolute pleasure of being part of a very special day, double celebrations that held personal and professional meaning for me in equal measure.

The first was the 20th anniversary of the British Association of Applied Linguistics’ Special Interest Group on Language, Gender and Sexuality, a space that’s been intellectually nourishing and politically grounded from its very inception. The second marked ten years of the Palgrave Studies in Language, Gender and Sexuality series, within which my own book came to life. Two milestones, one afternoon. And a much-needed reminder of how crucial, sustaining, and delightful community (or tribes?) can be.

Reuniting with friends (and legends)

It was a joy to reconnect with dear friends and colleagues after far too long, most notably, the brilliant Jane Sunderland and Allyson Jule, who’ve each played pivotal roles in shaping the SIG and the Palgrave series, respectively. Seeing them again was like a warm breeze on a cold academic morning (which it wasn’t actually as Manchester was unusually delightfully warm).

Jane, co-founder of the SIG, delivered a plenary that stayed with many of us for a long time. She reflected on what it truly means to be an applied linguist, and what it doesn’t mean is turning your critical gaze off when you hit retirement. “Doing linguistics never stops,” she reminded us. Nor does questioning power or exposing inequalities in how language is used and weaponised.

Her talk wasn’t just intellectually engaging. It was moving. It foregrounded human vulnerability and the loneliness that often comes with academic work. But it also celebrated our belonging: to tribes, to practices, to one another. Her reflections on retirement weren’t sugar-coated. They were honest. And galvanising. What are we doing this for? What matters, in the end?

(Un)Changing femininities and masculinities

Another talk that stuck with me explored femininities and masculinities in advertising, a topic I’ve been especially interested in lately. It’s no secret that language doesn’t just mirror the world; it shapes it. And nowhere is this more evident than in the carefully curated, market-tested language of ads.

Anna and Elisabeth did a fantastic job illustrating how gendered advertising relies on stereotypes, some of which have become outdated, much like milk. Others, unfortunately, remain eerily persistent. The presentations revealed not only how masculinity and femininity are constructed, but also how they’re deployed to create desire, need, and, ultimately, sales. It’s language doing things to us, and we’d do well to stay alert.

Lightning talks and looking back

The highlight for me, though, was being part of a roundtable discussion hosted by Helen Sauntson and Allyson Jule, where authors from across the Palgrave series shared lightning talks about their books. It was a rare opportunity to publicly thank the editors for their trust and reflect on a long yet deeply satisfying journey.

As I mentioned in my talk, the idea for the book took root years ago, following a session I organised at IGALA9 in Hong Kong. It was Allyson who, in her trademark encouraging tone, nudged me to think about turning the session into a book. I still remember being taken aback. And now, several years (and a few publishing hurdles) later, here we are.

The book addresses how sexualities are represented, constructed, and negotiated in educational contexts. It brings together research on static materials, such as textbooks and dictionaries, as well as the dynamic interactions happening in classrooms. However, we also sought to bridge academia and praxis: the book includes reading suggestions for early-career researchers, and we aimed to provide something useful to practitioners as well. If you teach, you’ll know what I mean when I say: the classroom is often where the magic happens (and where change begins).

Looking forward, together

The day wrapped up with Jay Mackenzie, who reminded us of what makes our research community so unique: we don’t just reflect on what we do, but how and why we do it. And for whom. And yes, in politically turbulent times, when books are banned and research fields attacked, it’s tempting to feel despondent.

But I’m reminded of something Helen once told me when I asked, “Is it worth it?” Her answer: It’s the teaching that matters most. Because in the classroom, we can sow the seeds of change. And if we’re lucky, see them grow.