In our last interview, we mentioned wanting to expand our horizons and feature a wider range of voices, and that’s still very much the plan. But the truth is, we also happen to have some incredibly brilliant and inspiring friends, and it would honestly be a disservice not to start there. What can I say? When your WhatsApp chats are full of this much talent, you pay attention.
Fynn Köster is one of them. We first connected through a University of Edinburgh group chat before the semester even began. I was nervously messaging strangers, hoping to find someone else who was studying English Language and might want to share the stress of arriving in a new city. Fynn was kind, thoughtful, and immediately one of those people who makes you feel less alone in the chaos of starting a degree. We ended up taking some modules together and bonded over linguistics, academic writing, and that very specific kind of nerdy joy you get from studying sounds and meaning.

Since then, he’s moved back to Germany and is now working as a primary school teacher while preparing to start a PhD at Edinburgh, all while writing poetry in his spare time. His research focuses on contextual phonetic variation in Māori English, and he’s also presenting at a conference in Oxford. Somehow, he finds the time to reflect on language across so many registers, from the way children express themselves in the classroom to the way Māori politicians use speech to signal cultural identity, all the way to the metaphors and cadences of his poems.
It was such a joy to catch up and hear about the many different threads he’s weaving together: academic, creative, personal.

How does it feel to be juggling teaching, academic work, and creative writing all at once?

I think the general perception is that teachers have a lot of free time on their hands, but the workday doesn’t end when you get home. You still have to prepare for the following day’s classes, and then, for me, there’s also a lot of academic work to do: preparing for academic conferences, writing research proposals etc. I’m usually exhausted at the end of the day, but I try to get in some creative writing in the evenings. Hasn’t been much lately, but the summer holidays are on the horizon, so I’ll hopefully have some more time to dedicate to writing then. I’ve also finally had the time to attend some literature events here in Germany, which have given me a lot of inspiration.

You’re currently teaching at a primary school—what’s that experience been like so far? Any surprises?

It’s been quite stressful and exhausting but also very rewarding. Children have no filter, so they tell you everything exactly as they feel it—sometimes that’s nice, other times it’s not so nice. The groups I teach are made up of children from many different backgrounds. Cultural differences are often politicised and highlighted negatively in the media, but to the children they’re normal; they grow up with them. And I love how they’re clearly not blind to these differences but treat everyone the same regardless. What surprised me was how many children already have smart watches.

Can you walk me through what a “normal” day at work looks like for you?

When I arrive in the morning, the children are already gathering at the meeting points for their respective groups on the school grounds. I go to the classroom, place everything I need for the first period on my desk, then go outside to pick up the children. Together we walk to the classroom. The school day starts with the morning circle, where the children get a chance to tell everyone what they did the day before. After the second period, I have breakfast with the children, and at noon, I take them to the cafeteria to have lunch. Some children stay for all-day care, during which I help them with their homework and they get to play outside.

Do you find that your academic training influences how you approach teaching to younger students?

Definitely. My phonology training helps me identify English phonemes that certain children have trouble with because they don’t exist in their native language. Some of the pedagogical principles and strategies about which I learnt in my teaching degree have also been really useful, although things are, of course, always a little different in practise.

You’ve been accepted to a PhD programme at Edinburgh (congratulations again!). What are you planning to research, and what drew you to that topic?

Thanks! I’m planning to expand on the topic of my master’s dissertation: contextual phonetic variation in Māori English. While for my MSc dissertation, I analysed a single speaker’s variation patterns, in my PhD I will look at variation within the speech of several Māori politicians in the wake of the Treaty Principles Bill, a controversial legislative draft which would have rolled back a lot of the rights Māori have gained over the last decade. Luckily, it did not progress.

I have been interested in Oceanian linguistics since my undergrad, during which I wrote a bachelor’s thesis on ‘Australian English and its Representation in Popular Music and Film’ and completed a semester abroad at the University of Queensland in Brisbane, Australia. Following my time in Australia, I visited New Zealand and was struck by how differently indigenous culture was treated there. While in Australia, indigenous people seemed to have been pushed to the outskirts of society and acknowledgements of their ancestral homelands felt largely tokenistic, there was a palpable appreciation for Māori culture in New Zealand, and though still disadvantaged, many Māori seemed to be regarded as valued members of New Zealand society.

You’re also presenting at a conference in Oxford, can you tell us what your paper is about and how you’re feeling ahead of it?

I’m presenting my master’s dissertation on intraindividual variation of the GOAT vowel within the speech of a Māori speaker, comparing a Māori-related context (whakairo, the traditional Māori carving art) and a Māori unrelated context (gaming). I’m excited to share my research with other linguists and maybe even get some advice or suggestions for further studies.

On the creative side, you write poetry. What inspires your writing, and do you find connections between your poetry and your academic interests?

Language is definitely a throughline in my writing. I try to give a tactile feel to how people in my poems exchange words, for example by handing them to each other instead of just saying them. The way I think about rhymes, metre and rhythm has probably been influenced by phonetics and phonology. My linguistic interests have also led me down rabbit holes of various cultures worldwide, writing about how they use language and how they view the natural world.

How do you find time (and headspace) for writing while doing so much else?

I try to make time to take little trips into nature and write about what I see and what memories or feelings come up as I go. These trips often help me get a new perspective on things I’ve been thinking about.

After work, I often just want to turn off my brain and do something mindless. But in the end I always feel like I’ve wasted my time. Conversely, after I actually sit down to write, I always feel good and relaxed. I try to remember that whenever I’m faced with the choice of what to do in the evening.

Has your experience as a teacher or student made its way into your poems?

I’ve just started writing a poem for a submission to a poetry journal with the theme of polyphony. It’s about how children see the world differently from adults.

At my university in Australia, I took a poetry course. Each session we would get a form or topic to write a poem that we’d read and get feedback for during the next session. A lot of my experience as an international student went into those poems.

Do you have a long-term dream—publishing a poetry collection, becoming a lecturer, both?

Both! In a perfect world, I imagine myself as a researcher and lecturer with enough time on the side to pursue poetry seriously. Maybe I could even give a poetry class one day.

What advice would you give to someone balancing creative and academic paths?

Take breaks from both. I always get inspired when I give myself the time to do something for myself, ideally something that doesn’t require too much focus and leaves room for thoughts to come in. For me, that’s taking a walk in nature.

Interviewing friends can be especially lovely when you genuinely admire the work they do. I loved interviewing Fynn, not just because of his thoughtful reflections on teaching, language, and research, but because of the care he brings to every space he occupies. He doesn’t just study language. He notices it, listens to it, and respects it. That attitude comes through in the way he talks about his students, his poetry, and his academic work. It’s clear he believes in the value of paying attention.

Whether he is preparing lesson plans, writing a paper on vowel variation, or drafting a poem inspired by the natural world, Fynn’s approach is grounded, curious, and sincere. I’m really glad we met in Edinburgh, and even happier to share this glimpse into everything he is working on right now.

Also, if he ever does end up teaching a poetry class, I will be first in line. I would love to learn from someone who brings a linguist’s ear to a poet’s heart.

You can follow Fynn on Instagram here for more poetry, and updates on his work.