Saturday, June 18, 2016

Study Abroad 20 Years Later: USA, 1978. By Belle Badell

I am abroad, but I am home!

Belle Badell grew up in Venezuela and came to the U.S. for her college education. She has been here ever since! Belle lives in Miami and is a high school teacher of ESOL and Computer Science. Here is her story...

I was born and raised in Caracas, Venezuela. I started kindergarten at 4 years of age, which was standard, and attended all-girls catholic schools until I was 14 years old. I remember going from short bus/back of covered station wagon rides, to tedious, but sometimes-fun 2-hour bus rides each way. I remember long days, getting up at 5 am and getting home at 6 pm to complete homework (if I did not finish it in the bus - lots of traffic, so steady enough to write). I remember masses on Fridays, mean nuns, arguing in religion classes, stealing mangoes from the trees in the back of the school, and eating some delicious toasted cream cheese sandwiches during my higher elementary and early middle school years.

When I moved in with my dad, I was allowed to use public transportation to get home - both my parents lived far from the school, and I had a private bus ride to get there. I had to walk about 10 long blocks to get to the bus stop. My daily walks were filled with pedophiles lurking around. I learned to identify them and recognize their cars, to take back ways for detours, stand my ground and sometimes have the courage to knock on someone’s door or pretend I was home. As I think about it now, I realize how normal that was not! (A little Shakespeare syntax there!)

Oh yeah, and then there was school! We sat in alphabetical order and in long rows. I remember sitting in the back against the wall for a couple of years. I was a good student, but bored with the system based on repetition and memorization. I remember algebra being easy; I did not mind the mean-looking nun who taught it. She was actually a good teacher. I remember learning discipline and order with my algebra teacher. It was easy to show my work, and it made clear sense to me. I enjoyed geography, biology, physics and chemistry. I also liked English, which worked out very well ;) Literature and history were not so interesting to me. Now, I love teaching literature and include tons of historical information to make connections. Life has a sense of humor!

After I finished middle school, I attended a private Italian-Venezuelan (very small) school down the street from my house. I consider this my first abroad experience… For the first time I shared a classroom with boys! That alone was a huge deal. Also, my classroom only had 24 students, as opposed to 50 crazy girls wearing hideous skirted uniforms in my previous school. We wore jeans and a white polo with the school’s logo - pretty cool; I could choose my own jeans! We also sat on chairs and had tables as desks, an upgrade from the wooden student desks we had at Maria Auxiliadora; and the best part was that we did not have to sand them down at the end of the school year!
My small class at the Italian high school
I succeeded academically, cheating my way through World History and chemistry 3; this is the year when I realized that chemistry was no longer that interesting. I also learned enough Italian that I survived a trip four years later relaying solely on my skills learned through these two years. I adapted to having boys as classmates. They were so different and so much bolder! I loved the small setting and the fact that we were the second graduating class of that school.

I ate the best Italian food at my classmates’ homes, learned that patriarchy was not only exercised in my house, I tried broccoli for the first time and convinced my stepmother to incorporate it in our menu. I learned that pasta is not the main dish and that you do not “pass” on a food offer. I learned the nastiest of cuss words in Italian, and I enjoyed it all!
Once, during algebra 2 class in my junior year, the teacher was explaining something that most did not understand. I spontaneously rose from my seat and began explaining a concept to the whole class. Professor Castro (white jacket above, beige suit below) was impressed and used to call on me to clarify, as needed. One day he asked me if I could teach an algebra concept to the sophomore class. I did, many times and realized, after lots of encouragement from my teacher and classmates, that teaching was a natural ability.

I am behind the principal's right shoulder- the man in the gray suit

It was July 1976 when graduation culminated my basic school journey. I was ready and excited to attend the IVAL (Instituto Venezolano de Audición y Lenguaje), but after only one semester, there was a change of (my mother’s) plans. So, I completed two years at the engineering school, enough to realize that this was not the field I wanted to pursue.

My dad always insisted that I move to the US for a better future, but I refused until 1978. My sister was already in Florida, finishing high school in a catholic (a common theme here, isn’t it?) boarding school. My dad and Belinda decided that coming to visit might convince me to move to the US. So, my dad planned a trip to south Florida to attend my sister’s graduation and spend a few days in Miami. That did the trick! We traveled in June and I was back ready to attend Miami-Dade College (MDC) in August.

This began my real abroad experience. Everything was new and exciting. The streets so clean, the traffic so civilized, the stores so big, and the schools had central air conditioner! Loved having a color TV set (first time watching color TV beside once before), having my own record player, and most importantly, having freedom to choose and be.

In English, I could read and write better than I could speak, so I struggled through my first year in college. I bought a paper for English class out of frustration. My professor made a huge difference by not only not turning me in, but by sitting down with me after class one day and teaching me how to create an outline and the structure of a 5 paragraph essay. Then, he guided me through the process so I could complete my essay. I am most grateful to this kind man who made a difference; I always remember this experience as I see students struggling.

I received my bachelor’s degree in Education from FIU and my masters in Computer Science Education a few years later. I became a great (honest) student and an even better writer. I began my teaching career as a substitute and then transitioned into a full time classroom teacher. It has been 26 years!

When I was growing up in Venezuela, I suffered plenty of stomachaches related to school, I was embarrassed and bullied by teachers, I struggled with insecurities, I did not understand the system, and I always felt as if I did not belong. As I grew older, I embraced circumstances in which I was challenged to grow; I encountered people who helped me along the way, and faced plenty of abroad experiences to open the door to an expansive set of ideas and perspectives. Coming to the US helped me further realize that there are many ways to think about anything, that opinions should be respected, that setting boundaries is an important part of self-love, and that we are all important.

One of my mottos is, “I am the teacher I wish I had.” Throughout my years in the classroom, I have always seen students as people: complex, thinking, feeling, loving, sometimes scared human beings, who are trying to figure out this thing called “life”. I never forget what it was like to feel out of place, even in my own homeland, and how much I needed guidance and understanding. Coming abroad taught me how to be home. I bring that feeling together with kindness and patience to my classroom every day. I am abroad, but I am home!

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

Study Abroad, 20 Years Later: Ecuador, 1995

"Transformation literally means going beyond your form" - Wayne Dyer, from Brainy Quote.

Me, in Ecuador, where I did a semester of service learning in 1995
One easy way to go beyond you form is through travel. Want to do something even more transformative? Don't just travel, but live: study, work, BE in a totally different place and culture. This might not require leaving your home country, but often it does. Many of us have been fortunate enough to experience these things through what many call "study abroad".

This summer, I am hosting a blog series called, Study Abroad, 20 Years Later. My friend Carolyn and I came up with this idea a couple months ago while walking on NYC's High Line. Carolyn, who studied abroad in Mexico during high school and London in college, suggested that, even now, in our 40's (gulp!), some of the lessons we learned studying abroad still influence our lives.

So, in this series, I will post other people's stories about their study abroad experiences, focusing on what they took away that still impacts them today. As a reader, you are welcome to contribute!

As for my own experience, my first official semester abroad was spring of my second year of college (1995), through International Partnership for Service Learning. This program still exists! My academic advisor, a Spanish professor, had told me to go to Spain, but I chose Guayaquil, Ecuador, because it was the most affordable program in a Spanish speaking country. I didn't regret it!

It was pretty much my dream program at the time: I lived with a host family, did volunteer work at a local agency three days a week, and took classes at a "gringo" satellite campus two days a week. On weekends, a friend in the program and I took advantage of the country's small size, traveling all over by bus, train, motorcycle, canoe... you name it. Both of us were determined to improve our Spanish, so we spoke ONLY Spanish, even when it was just us gringas. Thinking back, that was a pretty awesome commitment on our parts, considering we were what, 19 years old?!?!

With some of the great kids who attended the center where I volunteered. Wonder what they are doing today...
My service assignment was at a childcare center in a neighborhood of Guayaquil (the area was somewhat poor, but not exactly in the "invasiones"- think favelas). School was out, so there was no formal tutoring or classes going on. I essentially played with kids all day. We would hang out a nearby playground, make arts and crafts, play soccer, whatever. The center's director was a bright, warm-hearted woman I wish I could have gotten to know better.  

Now that I teach college students and participate as a faculty advisor for global service learning, I continually ask myself what students are getting out of these experiences. What did I learn 20+ years ago in Ecuador that still impacts me today?

1. Spanish. I could already speak fairly fluently when I arrived, but thanks to my engagement with the kids at the center and my host family, and our "no English" rule, my language proficiency grew by leaps and bounds. There are things you cannot learn in a classroom.

2. How to get information (especially in Latin America). Of course, my experience in Ecuador was before the internet took off and certainly before smart phones. To get information (e.g., What time does the bus leave for Cuenca?), we had to do it the old fashioned way: ask. In many cultures (seemingly Ecuador), people are not eager to say they don't know! Often we had to ask several people to figure out the right answer. Nowadays, especially when I'm traveling and there is a language difference, I still use this strategy: don't just ask one person and take their word for it. Ask a few people to confirm what you need to know.

On the street in hot and hectic Guayaquil
3. It's not easy to live in another country. I have had several experiences living abroad after Ecuador, but each time I have kept this in mind. This understanding is also always present for me now when I work with immigrant students and their families here in the States. Although it is amazing, it is also SO DIFFICULT to navigate life in a totally different place. Maybe this is obvious, but it takes experiencing it to really appreciate it.

4. There are good people everywhere. I mean, really good people. My host family, who agreed to have a college student live in their house for four months (they got paid, but still... anyone out there want a teenager?); the family who welcomed us into their home for a night when we were traveling; the strangers in a random, indigenous community in the mountains who gave us a ride back to town when buss service had stopped for the day. It's incredible how people so easily reach out and connect.

Gringa me... Check out The Smiths t-shirt and a woven Ecuador bag (I still have that!). The kids used to go out and buy frozen, chocolate covered bananas for a few cents from a woman who sold them out of her window.


Like many things, study abroad is what you make of it. I had an amazing opportunity to participate in a semester of service learning in Ecuador, and did everything I could to make the most of it. The things I learned came with me to other experiences abroad, and continue to impact my life today. 

Where did you study abroad, 20 or so years ago? What did you learn? Want to write about it? Leave a comment and I will be in touch!      



Friday, January 22, 2016

Bilingualism as a Superpower

Remember that day that I took an airport shuttle to JFK, hung out for a couple hours, then took a bus to Grand Central Station, and took the train back home? Yep… that was today, my 41st birthday. I was supposed to fly to Chicago for a family visit, but Winter Storm Somebody-or-Other caused flight delays and cancellations all along the East Coast. Turned out to be a day of transit in all forms but air.

Being at JFK of course made me think about international travel. I got to speak Spanish today, too. On the train on the way home, I thought of another metaphor of bilingualism, to add to the collection I developed while in Italy. Here’s the latest: Bilingualism as a superpower. Indeed, bilingualism is MY superpower, and it also happens to be a secret superpower.

Let’s talk generally about bilingualism as a superpower.
  • You know those times when people are not able to communicate, because they speak two different languages? Voila! A bilingual arrives at the scene, and everything becomes clear. Problem solved.
  • Want to travel and get the inside scoop, haggle, eat where the locals eat? Bilingualism to the rescue. Plus, you’ll never get lost if you can ask directions in the local language!
  • Here’s a really useful one: You call your credit card company, bank, airline, utility company, etc., and the automated phone service answers: “For English, press one. Para español, marque dos.” Guaranteed your wait time will be less en español.

I could go on and on…
Now let’s consider why bilingualism might be, for some, a secret superpower. As a secret bilingual, I have learned that you can never assume, never take for granted that a person speaks one language or another. For example, just because someone “looks” Latino or has a last name like Pérez or Gonzales, it doesn’t mean they speak Spanish. I seem to have the opposite reaction: Whenever I speak Spanish, people are surprised.

So maybe this means I don’t “look” like someone who speaks Spanish. But why not? In the Southern Cone and Spain, I fit in pretty well. I look like I could be from there… I can pass. In those places, people notice my accent, but don’t wonder why the heck I can speak Spanish in the first place.

So what is it about me, here in the US, that leads people to believe I should be monolingual? Whiteness? USA-ness? My inland northern American English mother tongue? Do I speak English too well to be bilingual? Or is it that no one expects a gringa to produce Spanish with sometimes nearly the same fluency and competency as her native English, without that telltale gringo accent, able to trill her r’s and use idioms and colloquialisms?

I remember how, recently, at a university event, my friend-colleague introduced me (in Spanish) to the speaker, saying, “Robin speaks Spanish because… well, because she does.” Maybe she realized that if an explanation for my bilingualism was needed, it would imply that it was somehow nonsensical. Why would an explanation be needed in that context? I could assume that the guest speaker spoke Spanish because he was Mexican-American; he didn’t need to introduce himself and explain his bilingualism. For him, bilingualism was a not a surprise or a secret.

Secret or not, I am immensely grateful for my bilingual superpower. It is the greatest gift I have, the most powerful skill I can offer in any situation. Maybe the moral of the story is to expect the unexpected, not just with languages and bilingualism. The fact is, in most cases, we have no idea of the depth of talents and experiences inside each person we meet. We all have hidden superpowers. What’s yours?