Teaching World History with Open Educational Resources

This piece is part of a series by participants in the Summer 2025 Open Knowledge Fellowship, coordinated by the Mina Rees Library. Fellows will share insight into the process of converting a syllabus to openly-licensed and/or zero-cost resources, as well as their experiences teaching undergraduate courses at CUNY.


Ugur AkpinarUgur Akpinar is a PhD student in the History Department at the Graduate Center, CUNY, interested in the history of orphans and orphanages in the Middle East in the context of identity, capital, and violence. He holds an MA from Bogazici University, Ataturk Institute for Modern Turkish History. As a graduate teaching, he currently teaches world history at City College.


I joined the Open Knowledge Fellowship because of a deep personal and professional commitment to equity and access in education. As a historian teaching World History at a public institution like CUNY, I am acutely aware that the classroom is not only a space of learning but also a space where structures of power, exclusion, and privilege are either reproduced or challenged. My interest in this fellowship grew out of both a pedagogical and political commitment: to create a more inclusive and critical learning environment, and to interrogate the very materials through which we teach.

One of the core components of the fellowship was the process of redesigning a course using only Open Educational Resources (OER). At first, this felt like a challenge. Like many instructors, I had relied on materials behind paywalls or in expensive textbooks. Transitioning to openly licensed content forced me to think differently about how and why I choose the materials I assign. Rather than simply replacing existing readings with free versions, I was encouraged to rethink the structure of my course more holistically. What kinds of conversations do I want students to have? What frameworks do I want them to use? What assumptions do I hold about what is “essential” knowledge? This process helped me see that teaching is not just about content delivery—it’s about creating a space where inquiry, critique, and collaboration can thrive. The limitations I encountered while searching for open materials turned out to be productive. They pushed me to think more carefully about the relationship between content and pedagogy. Instead of seeing assigned materials as fixed sources of authority, I began to view them as starting points—tools to spark dialogue and engagement. The goal shifted from coverage to curiosity.

Poster showing a child wearing a scarf on her head. "The Child at Your Door. 400,000 Orphans Starving, No State Aid Available--Campaign for $30,000,000. American Committee Relief in the Near East. Armenia-Greece-Syria-Persia. Baltimore Campaign February 9th to 17th."

Pfeifer, Herman. The Child At Your Door. 1919, lithograph. Library of Congress.

My own research focuses on the intersections of power, care, labor, and identity in the late Ottoman Empire. I study how orphaned children became subjects of competing efforts by states, missionaries, and communities—each attempting to shape their futures and identities in particular ways. In many ways, this research has shaped how I approach the classroom. I’m drawn to questions of voice, visibility, and whose stories are told or left out. The fellowship allowed me to bring this sensibility more clearly into my teaching by helping me design a course that invites students to question dominant narratives and consider alternative perspectives.

One of the most valuable takeaways from this experience was realizing how often our pedagogical habits go unquestioned. We assign readings, we set the schedule, we create the assessments. But rarely do we step back and ask how those choices shape students’ engagement with knowledge. Open pedagogy invites that kind of reflection. It reminds us that teaching is not neutral. As scholars like Henry Giroux argue, pedagogy is always political. The materials we choose, the frameworks we offer, and the ways we invite students to participate all carry weight. They either open up possibilities or reinforce limitations. This fellowship gave me the tools and the community to reimagine what a more inclusive and participatory classroom can look like. It reinforced my belief that students are not passive recipients of information, but active contributors to knowledge-making. By using open resources, we can break down barriers—not just financial ones, but also intellectual and cultural ones—and invite more students into the process.

I am grateful to the Open Knowledge Fellowship team and to my fellow participants for the generous exchange of ideas and support throughout this journey. The experience encouraged me to think of teaching as a dynamic, collaborative practice—one that should be open not only in terms of resources, but also in spirit. In a moment when public education faces so many pressures, it’s more important than ever to affirm the values of access, critical engagement, and shared learning. This fellowship reminded me that we can always teach differently—and that how we teach matters just as much as what we teach.

About the Author