Multicultural Education 2014

It is already my third year in America as an international student, but I still wonder what diversity means? Does it mean gathering people from all around the world to a same place? Does it mean sharing knowledge, opinion, and culture from defferent backgrouds? The gap between international and domestic is so huge that I have to bridge language gap, culture gap, even personality gap to get to the other side compeletely. If I go ahead to bridge all the gaps, I certainly will lost part of my identity. But if I don't go ahead and stop at where I am, I can't get to the other side. Walking in the middle of the bridge is what I feel right now.

I spent last semester studying in Denmark and every Thursday as part of my coursework I visited a very small, independent K-10th grade school. The student body (about 150 students total) was predominantly white and there were only two non-ethnic Danish students amongst the approximately 35 8th through 10th graders that I spent most of my time working with. My position at the site was one of a participant-researcher. I worked with the English teacher to lead presentations on and discussions about American culture. I served almost as an ambassador of the United States to students who had never met an American before. I ate lunch with together with the students and chatted with them during breaks. But I was also collecting notes about the classroom culture and even led group interviews at the end of my semester there to gather student perspectives on gender in the classroom – a topic I wrote my final term paper on. I share this background because I want to make clear my position in relationship to the students I worked with. I was not considered a teacher exactly, but I was also not considered a "friend." 

     There’s a restaurant in El Paso called “Delicious” that over the generations has become a family tradition. When aunts and uncles who live out of town, and even when I go home for breaks, it is always a must to eat there. The event that took place I would like to discuss in this post happened right outside of this place, our favorite restaurant. When I was in third grade, an elderly lady began appearing outside the building, and would beg. Each time my parents and I went, there she was. It didn’t matter the time of day, how hot or cold it was… it seemed like she was always there. My mom would always give her a little something, and one visit when I was in high school, another lady saw my mom give her money and she muttered, “how disgusting!” Now, I’m not sure if she was referring to my mom giving her money, or to the woman herself, but no matter how she meant it was and is equally haunting to me.