Archive for July 2011

Coming Home

Coming Home

You’ve just spent 4 months, 8 months or even a full year exploring, traveling around and absorbing everything you can of a given part of the world. Be it Western Europe, South America or Southeast Asia, your most recent memories have taken form in that context. Maybe you met people who presented you with perspectives you had never encountered before, found yourself in situations that test your limits, felt fear, confusion, excitement and joy. Needless to say, the exposure to all of that newness and the dynamic pace your life took on is what you’ve grown accustomed to – it’s become your day-to-day. So what’s it like to come back to your real day-to-day? The one that you left behind when you went on your whirlwind adventure?

Coming home may, at first, be thrilling. When I came home from my year abroad I was in a mad rush to see everyone – my family in Ottawa and my friends in Kingston, Toronto and Montreal. The first month was a haze of coffee and pub catch-ups and excitement to re-engage with all of the things I had missed about home. But then it hit me – the boredom. The routine. Everything was the same as it had always been. During my travels, I was constantly encountering something new, exciting and unknown. While at times all the newness was overwhelming, scary and lonely, it never failed to get my heart racing. All of a sudden, my life was back to everything it had been before I left. Same job, same friends, same apartment, same squabbles with my parents. It was difficult to explain to my friends who didn’t go abroad all of the things I saw, my reactions to them and how profoundly they affected me. It’s as if I had never even gone away. I suddenly became afraid that my incredible, eye-opening, and, what I thought, life-changing year was slipping away from me – just a distant memory whose effects would wear off quickly.

One evening, out of both desperation and fear of somehow ‘losing’ my experiences in France and Singapore, I started researching testimonials of other students who were returning from extended periods of time abroad. I also frantically emailed the Queen’s International Centre Education Abroad Advisor asking for advice on how to hold on to that experience. The reassuring thing about this was that I most definitely was not alone in having these fears – as I read the stories of other students and talked with the Education Abroad Advisor, I realized that many others felt the same way I did. I was advised to get involved in the international community on campus, stay in touch with old friends from my time abroad, and reach out to actively apply the lessons I had learned in my community and day-to-day life.

It’s been almost three months since I’ve returned from my year abroad, and I have definitely adjusted to my life back in Kingston. While I make the effort to get out of town more often to explore what Canada has to offer through trips to Toronto, Montreal and Ottawa, I’m also getting involved in the Kingston and Queen’s community itself to help me feel more at home here. I’m finding that I’m more confident, outgoing and friendly than I was when I left Kingston – proof that something has stuck from the things I learned in my time abroad!  I no longer feel the daily pangs of boredom I felt in my first few months. I do still daydream about my next trip abroad, be it biking through Spain or exploring Buenos Aires, but I’m doing something about it. I made a contract with my housemate to not buy anything except for food, hygiene products and computer necessities for 6 months. This helps me apply some of the goals I made after reacting strongly to the poverty I saw in my trips to Cambodia, Thailand, Malaysia, Vietnam and Indonesia. It also motivates me to save for my next trip. I’m excited for helping out with Orientation Week for International Students, volunteering for the campus radio station, CFRC, and editing an International Relations magazine, the Queen’s International Observer, on campus – all decisions I made based on what I experienced in my time abroad. These are the steps I’ve taken to retain my experience, and so far they seem to be working! Hopefully, my time abroad will be a learning experience that fuels countless other learning experiences I will have in my life.

Of course coming home can be a shock. Maybe life doesn’t seem as thrilling as it was while on exchange or working abroad, but the experiences DO stick – even if it feels like they’re irrelevant at first. For me, what helped most was to actively try to change things about my life back home to reflect what I had learned. Also, being patient with my own reactions and being aware of them helped me adjust to the immediate shock of coming home – something I later appreciated once I was better adjusted. It works differently for everyone coming home, depending on what their time abroad was like and how it affected them and also with what your return home is like. The important realization is that you are not alone in feeling frustrated, sad, bored, or anything else you might feel in relation to coming home. There are resources online, at the QUIC, at Health, Counseling and Disabilities Services and in your community to help you adjust. Don’t be shy to reach out!!! Hopefully, sharing my experiences help to provide some perspective to other readers going through something similar, and I wish all of you the best of luck in coming back home!

Joanna Plucinska, Political Studies 2012

Half a world apart

Of course this topic would come up. Long distance relationships. Because let’s face it, more often than not, we are forced into having one of the most dreaded conversations a relationship could trigger.

“Well, I really want to go on exchange…”

“That’s great!…But what about…?

You probably dread this conversation as much as I did. Or if you’ve already had it, you understand why it has an aura of both mystery and fear from most couples. The temptation of commitment versus the alleged freedom can be a very tricky choice, and in the short term, feel like a burden on your excitement.

I am not an advocate of either verdict. I have tried both, with varying results. What I do want to write about briefly today, however, are the types of questions and considerations you should give some thought to before jumping on any side of this conondrum.

“Let’s stick it out” – case involves:

• Expectation setting – If you and your partner decide to continue dating while apart, you should consider having a fairly serious conversation about expectation setting. How much should you communicate? What is the preferred method of communication? What are the costs involved, and how will you deal with that? What is expected of you to communicate – how much detail, how much excitement? This might seem like a fairly uni-lateral discussion of needs, but remember that the partner to remain in the initial location will have preferences as well – a case that often happens is in fact, jealousy. If you overshare details about your amazing time on exchange or travelling, the other person might experience loneliness, signs of wanderlust, and even become displeased or bored with their surroundings due to their constant exposure to new places and cultures through their communication with you.
• Emergency/crisis scenario – While every relationship is different, it is most likely the case that when together, you know when you’re needed by your partner, for emotional support or even just for your presence. However, being able to maintain this level of intimacy might prove to be difficult when away. Establishing a policy of open communication, establishing certain signals perhaps to make sure the other person understands your needs at a specific time, are very important. You cannot expect Instant Messaging to do the trick every time, and more than often, any online form of communication, even a choppy and pixeled Skype call, can fail to deliver tone, sarcasm or emotion. You might be forced to learn new ways to acknowledge the emotional state of your partner, and this is something  you have to work together towards.
• How to explain your choice – While not immediately obvious as something you should go over, this is essential for both of you. A lot of people will find it appropriate to question your decision, label it as something else – “Oh, you’re still together, but the relationship is on the back burner, right?” or even encourage one of you to act unlike yourselves. Make sure both of you have a solid understanding of your reasoning to stay together, and can deal with criticism when necessary. More often than not, it’s also essential to be able to justify the decision to yourself. While on exchange, I witnessed a lot of couples breaking up, and a lot more couples having a very hard time in their long-distance relationship, so you need to be certain of your reasons to stay together.
• Review – Establish a time to re-evaluate your decision. Perhaps a mid-point, or even 2 separate points during your time apart, make sure to create a space for feedback. Although in most cases this happens naturally, there might be issues that are harder to bring up, so opening up a space in which both of you can offer suggestions to each other will benefit you more than you think. This is probably the time for things like “I’ve been feeling like we haven’t talked about [...] for a while” or “You seem to always be rushing out, let me know if there’s a better time when I can catch you while more relaxed” and so on.

You are not a gypsy

A very popular term in a lot of travel communities is gypsy. The romanticized and even idealized concept of gypsy involves a nomadic lifestyle, few material possessions and perhaps most importantly, a free spirit. A concept tempting to a young, seemingly unattached student, correct? While there is nothing wrong with ascribing to any of the above, it is however a misnomer to call oneself a gypsy.

Why? Let’s look at the definition of the term:

Gypsy: A member of a traveling people with dark skin and hair who speak Romany and traditionally live by seasonal work, itinerant trade, and fortune-telling. Gypsies are believed to have originated in the Indian subcontinent.

I doubt many backpackers and digital nomads earn their living from seasonal work and fortune-telling, and I also doubt any of them speak Romany. If I am wrong, please do tell me so. While in a digitized, globalized world is it quite easy for one to do contract work or freelance writing independent of location, this is not what the seasonal work of most Roma people ( Roma is the politically correct term for Gypsies).

Most Roma people live in South and Eastern Europe as illegal and undocumented immigrants. The Roma have a rich history and a set of unique cultural and religious practices. In fact, they are ruled by a King, their own legal system called the Romani Code, as well as internal institutions which are responsible for enforcing these laws and regulations.They are often intentionally excluded from any form of community participation. The Roma are discriminated against in countries where their communities are sizeable. Ethnic cleansing groups in Hungary are known to terrorize and attempt to drive out the Roma people living on the outskirts of their villages. More information can be found here about the Hungarian case: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-13206261

The Roma have never had a homeland, and it is very unlikely they will ever have one. As such, many of them have established communities wherever they find work or charitable communities. Stereotypes of Roma as thieves and criminals in recent times has decreased their chances of social integration. Communities of Roma are usually isolated ghetto-like settlements. Roma people survive under the poverty level more often than not, with minimal access to education, health care and consequently, employment. Many governments, such as those of Italy or Spain, have instead turned a blind eye to the lack of social security Roma face. Instead, many are detained or deported to a country of previous residence.

Throughout history, the Roma have had to move from country to country in order to avoid persecution. A less known fact is that more than 1 million Roma peoples were killed during the Holocaust, and many of their possessions were destroyed or taken away. Only recently has their plight been recognized by opening a Roma exhibit in the Auschwitz Holocaust Museum. Again, more information here: http://en.auschwitz.org.pl/h/index.phpoption=com_content&task=view&id=11&Itemid=3

While travelling has become a lifestyle more and more people adhere to, conflating a voluntary decision to leave behind family and friends in order to learn about new countries and cultures is nothing like the constant need of Roma people to migrate in order to earn their living. You might be a new-age nomad, but you are most definitely not a Gypsy. Claiming to lead a similar lifestyle is not only offensive to the Roma, who are forced by political and public pressure, but also to the history and persecution they faced.

Academic Culture Shock

Every schooling system denotes what makes a ‘good’ student and a ‘poor’ student according to certain criteria. Students quickly learn that if they do a), the result will be b). For example, if they study for a given test by doing the practice questions the teacher assigns to them, they should be able to pull off a decent grade. But, in every educational institution these criteria are bound to change depending on what is valued most. How should a student cope, then, when entering a completely new educational system? Many students experience what we can call academic culture shock. Grading systems, criteria, teaching styles and even languages change. What is expected of you as a student shifts, oftentimes causing that students who are accustomed to attaining certain results at home realize that they no longer fit the mold of a ‘good student’.

My exchange experience at the National University of Singapore in Singapore proved to be academically challenging. While my friends and I worked hard in all of our classes, we found that Singaporean professors valued completely different things from our professors at home. For example, my professors at home rewarded students for originality in their work, while my Singaporean professors wanted me to show that I had the most thorough understanding of the course material without necessarily presenting anything new. It took a few disappointing grades and long conversations with T.A.s and professors for me to better understand what was expected of me. Although I left Singapore with a transcript that showed grades much lower than the ones I attained at Queen’s, I did gain a better perspective of what kinds of academic settings I worked best in and what was expected from the average Singaporean student. Furthermore, I refined certain academic habits, such as attention to detail, that, while not as highly valued in my work at home, will still undoubtedly help me in the long run.

Sometimes though, a new educational institute can work to a student’s advantage. For example, a good friend of mine went on exchange to Barcelona. While her classes back home were taught in English, she was taking all of her courses in Barcelona in Spanish. This did pose a significant challenge for her, but it was balanced out by the fact that her classes were much smaller, far less homework was assigned and the professors were much more easy-going about deadlines. As a result, she finished her semester abroad with the best transcript she’d ever had in her university career.

Academic culture shock is just one part of going away on exchange, along with the shock of being away from your family and friends and the culture you’re familiar with. Just as one can learn from the other trials that living and studying in a new country and culture ultimately introduce, a change in academic criteria can help a student learn how to be more flexible and skilled in a variety of academic settings. Not every new institution poses the same challenges, and you will either fit in better or worse depending on a variety of factors. Every educational institute is different, just as every cultural setting is different. One of the biggest benefits of travel is learning how to adapt to these settings while overcoming the challenges that they present.

Joanna Plucinska, Political Studies 2012

An Anglo-Canadian in England: Ethno-Cultural Homelands & First-Generation Canadians

Canada is famously a country composed of immigrants. Like so many Canadians, my father is one of these immigrants, making me a first-generation Canadian. In 1956, my father and his family emigrated from England and settled in Hamilton, Ontario. While my pale skin, unaccented English, and Anglo-Saxon heritage belie my status as a first-generation Canadian, I am one nonetheless.

Just as I do not appear like the stereotypical first-generation Canadian, my father is hardly the image of an immigrant. He retains no English accent, and few memories of England itself; the only hint of his ancestry comes through in words like “ladybird”, his fondness for Marmite, and a family tradition of watching the Queen’s message on Christmas Day.

When I set off to study at the Bader International Study Centre in East Sussex, England, it occurred to me that I was returning to my cultural and ethnic homeland. Although I have never considered myself anything other than Canadian, I have always been aware that every Canadian who is not Aboriginal has a different cultural and ethnic background than our nationality suggests. Many white Canadians trace their ancestry back to the United Kingdom, like my mother’s family, who have been in Canada since the late 18th century. Because of these deep (well, deep for Canadians) roots that my mother’s family has set down, I’ve tended to see them as more Canadian than English/Scottish, while seeing my father’s immediate connection to England as more interesting.

I couldn’t help but wonder, therefore, if I would feel more at home in England than in Canada. I doubted it, but still wondered if I would feel some sort of connection to England that was different than my connection to Canada. This was, after all, the country my immediate family had come from, and the country that not only influenced my country’s culture, but my immediate family’s culture.

I soon found, however, that – other than possessing an overly elaborate understanding of the British monarchy – I am overwhelmingly Canadian, and quite obviously not English at all. England was very much a foreign country: the trains arrived on time, the national self-image was decidedly different from my own, the food was foreign to me, and I understood little of the local slang.

What was interesting for me was to consider the experiences of my grandparents, both of whom were immigrants to Canada, and, yet, thoroughly English. Canada was an acceptable place to immigrate to where the United States was not because of its Commonwealth status. They were English to the core, but such allegiances are not transferred alongside DNA.

Culturally and ethnically – yes, I am English (with a teeny bit of Scottish ancestry thrown in, my one touch of the exotic). But my nationality is thoroughly Canadian.

My experiences in my ethnic and cultural homeland are obviously different than the experiences of someone whose family originally hails from Taiwan or Libya – or even European countries such as Italy and Poland – because my ethnic/cultural homeland is the one that has had the largest formative impact on Canadian culture and institutions.

The British – and the English have always been the dominant culture within the United Kingdom – founded the modern Canada that we know today, wiping out the Aboriginal people and customs with virtual impunity, effectively re-writing what it means to be a ‘native Canadian’. Everything ‘traditional’ in Canada hails from my ethno-cultural homeland: from our parliamentary system to our language, from our justice system to our spelling, from the majority of our history to the ethnic makeup of many white Canadians.

And yet, at the same time, I think that my experiences are universal for first-generation Canadians: upon returning to this somewhat-mythic homeland, you find that, despite what you might have been led to believe by your parents’ romanticization of it, you do not belong there. You are not more [Polish/Italian/Taiwanese/Libyan] than you are Canadian.

Before I get ahead of myself, I must recognize that I cannot rightfully speak for all first-generation Canadians; I can only speak for myself. My experiences were certainly different because of my English ancestry; I have the tremendous privilege of never feeling out of place in my native country. I never feel ‘too English’ for Canada, although I was certainly ‘too Canadian’ for England.

It was a very illuminating experience for me to live, however briefly, in my ethno-cultural homeland. It helped me to better understand the multicultural and intercultural nature of Canadian society. Because of the societal hegemony of my heritage and race, I had never truly considered before what it means to be a non-Aboriginal Canadian, in the sense that one’s ethno-cultural heritage is inherently from somewhere else.

What it made very clear for me, more than anything else, is how very Canadian I really am. Perhaps naively, I like to believe in the idea of the modern Canada as a country of diverse people united by a shared interest in peace, equality, and kindness, regardless of our cultures or origins. I believe in the idea that what connects us to one another is stronger than that which differentiates us. For me, at least, my sojourn in England proved to me that my Canadianness meant more to me than my connections to any other country.

Spring Term at the Bader International Study Centre

I had always planned on going on exchange in university. In high school, exchanges struck me as the ideal way to travel, experience another culture, and continue to learn about your own in comparison. Essentially, an exchange seemed to be the ideal way to have an exciting, interesting, and, relatively cost-effective, adventure.

When it came time to start thinking about exchanges in second-year, my complete disinterest surprised me. I had fallen head-over-heels in love with Queen’s, and I had absolutely no desire to leave my beloved campus for an entire semester – let alone a year.  As much as I wanted to travel, to live in a different culture, to practice a different language, and to have an adventure, I couldn’t bring myself to leave Queen’s.

That’s why, for me, spending a spring semester at the Bader International Study Centre at Herstmonceux Castle in East Sussex, UK, was such a good fit. I’d long been fascinated by the BISC, or, as it’s more commonly known, the Castle. It wasn’t something that I wanted to pursue in first-year, as I had just graduated from a tiny high school, and wanted to be in a larger environment. However, I absolutely loved my six week stay there, and would absolutely recommend it to anyone in a similar situation: looking for an international study experience but not willing to sacrifice precious time at their home university (be it Queen’s or elsewhere!).

The travel and social aspect appealed to me instantly, but I had little idea how impressive the academics would be. As a history major and art history minor, the unique educational experiences the Castle provided me were second to none. Having a lecture on the Dieppe Raid on the very beach where it occurred or having a lecture on Édouard Manet in front of his impressionist masterpiece Un Bar aux Folies-Bergère are experiences that truly heighten the learning experience and allow you to engage with the material in a way that is incomparable to learning from a textbook or slideshow.

A crucial element of The Castle’s academic programme are field studies, which are essentially field trips. Each class is allotted two field studies, where your class travels to a specific location or event – an art gallery, a site of historical interest, a play, et cetera – with your instructor. Some field studies are essentially lectures, while others are more like guided tours, and others still simply involve you sitting back and watching a comedy show or opera performance. The locations for the field studies are quite impressive – the astronomy class travelled to the Greenwich observatory, the classics course went to the Fishbourne Roman Villa, and the Shakespeare class went to Stratford-upon-Avon.

Because of the important – and often time-consuming nature – of the field studies, my weekends are often taken up by field studies and essay-writing. While some of my peers were lucky enough to have one weekend without any field studies (and travelled to locations such as Amsterdam, Luxembourg, and Edinburgh), I was not, and had to fit my travel in where I could. As I was busy with classes from Monday – Thursday and then with field studies on the weekend, my travel was of a somewhat shallow nature, but it was travel that I enjoyed thoroughly nonetheless.  In six weeks, I managed to travel to London (multiple times), Brighton (multiple times), Bath, Salisbury, Stonehenge, Eastbourne, and Dieppe.

Another interesting element of The Castle’s programme is that it allows you to live in a different country and a different culture, despite the fact that the majority of people you interact with are Canadian. I thoroughly enjoyed living in England for six weeks – although, I must confess that I detested the food, Dieppe aside – but ultimately questioned how much of ‘genuine’ English experience I had really had. While I had the opportunity to see a variety of places in England, in both the city and the countryside, the only English people I met were a few professors and the dining hall staff. Nevertheless, I was acutely aware that I was living in a culture not my own, which was particularly interesting in an English context, as I tend to view countries such as the United States and the United Kingdom as being essentially the same as Canada, which is, of course, far from the truth.

My term at The Castle was an enriching experience, in many different aspects of my life – academic, social, travel, et cetera, and it also afforded me the opportunity to consider myself and my culture and how my culture and I fit into a different one (a subject I will be discussing in greater depth in an upcoming blog post!). I would absolutely recommend it to anyone, for the reasons I listed above and also because it’s possibly the most beautiful place I have ever laid eyes on!

The gap year – time off, time invested or time spent?

For those of us approaching graduation, or even thinking about the possibility of graduate school, the idea of a gap year will sound quite familiar. Popular in many instances, such as between highschool and undergraduate studies or between a Bachelor and Master’s degree, the gap year has quite a number of supporters, but just as many critics.

More often than not, the gap year is associated with travelling. A lot of young graduates dream of catching the first train after their convocation ceremony, others make plans to drive across the country or even the coast, while for some, the idea of a romantic getaway with their university sweetheart seems equally enchanting. Whether you are also thinking about something similar or not, here are a few thoughts on the possible benefits and drawbacks of taking a gap year before you apply to graduate school.

Benefits:

• If you know you need or want to undertake further study, but you are not sure specifically what field you are interested in, this is your time to explore and find your passion. A lot of current graduate students or alumni are very adamant in advising prospective students to be certain of what they plan to study. Graduate school is a lot more time and energy-consuming than undergraduate studies, and a lot more intellectually demanding, so being 100% committed is more important than ever.
• Learning in different ways. For at least the past 16 years ( given that you went to university straight from highschool), you have probably been learning in a certain fashion: in a classroom setting, with textbooks, tests and final exams. Whether or not this is a style that suits you, it is most certainly only one type of learning. If you wanted to pick up a skill, or a language, or learn how to interact with different cultures, cook or devote a year to a health course, this is the time to do it.
• Adding qualifications to your graduate school application. A lot of graduate programs are looking for talented, driven, and most importantly, well-rounded applicants. Work experience, volunteering or internships can increase your chances of being admitted. Especially if you are looking at a professional degree, these skills will be highly valued by your future university.
• Bring real-life experience to your studies. Regardless of your field of study, it is most likely that you will want to spend your gap year doing something related to your interests. As such, your year off can provide a focus to your future research, thesis or projects during graduate school, a lens through which you can analyze and process academic material.