INTRODUCTION The challenges that foreign trained faculty have in a host country’s classroom are embedded within a complex, layered environment of host country and personal cultures, academic expectations, politics, social change, entrenched systems, and personal grit. The authors of this chapter were members of the Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona (UAB) community in post-Francoist Spain. Two foreign-trained professors and a student who studied with foreign-trained professors present different but interrelated perspectives on the integration and impact of foreign-trained faculty. The three stories provide insights into the struggles that foreign professors experience in becoming part of the academy, as well as the enormous impact they can have on the learn- ing environment and intellectual growth of their students. The experiences of the professors also illustrate how institutional structures and differences in academic training create barriers to the integration of foreign-born professors. THREE STORIES Story 1: A Politically Well-Informed Young European Confronts a Different Political Teaching Landscape—Louis Lemkow Background Born in Sweden, educated in the United Kingdom, and having spent more than 2 years as a lecturer at what today is the University of East London, I began my academic career in Catalonia at the UAB, a young and progres- sive institution, at a time of flourishing activism and grassroots social move- ments. The authoritarian structures and organizations under Franco were being challenged with generalized demands for change throughout society. There were calls for drastic reforms of university governance and the intro- duction of democratic decision making at all levels of academic life. I was eager to learn about Catalan identity and language, topics very much on the agenda of UAB politics, yet initially, I had only a superficial 4 The “Unusual” Professors The Experiences and Impact of Foreign Professors in Post-Franco Spain Alice Gail Bier, Xavier Coller, and Louis Lemkow 6244-663-1pass-004-r02.indd 50 8/1/2015 1:34:34 PM
Transcript
INTRODUCTION
The challenges that foreign trained faculty have in a host country’s classroom are embedded within a complex, layered environment of host country and personal cultures, academic expectations, politics, social change, entrenched systems, and personal grit. The authors of this chapter were members of the Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona (UAB) community in post-Francoist Spain. Two foreign-trained professors and a student who studied with foreign-trained professors present different but interrelated perspectives on the integration and impact of foreign-trained faculty. The three stories provide insights into the struggles that foreign professors experience in becoming part of the academy, as well as the enormous impact they can have on the learn-ing environment and intellectual growth of their students. The experiences of the professors also illustrate how institutional structures and differences in academic training create barriers to the integration of foreign-born professors.
THREE STORIES
Story 1: A Politically Well-Informed Young European Confronts a Different Political Teaching Landscape—Louis Lemkow
BackgroundBorn in Sweden, educated in the United Kingdom, and having spent more than 2 years as a lecturer at what today is the University of East London, I began my academic career in Catalonia at the UAB, a young and progres-sive institution, at a time of flourishing activism and grassroots social move-ments. The authoritarian structures and organizations under Franco were being challenged with generalized demands for change throughout society. There were calls for drastic reforms of university governance and the intro-duction of democratic decision making at all levels of academic life.
I was eager to learn about Catalan identity and language, topics very much on the agenda of UAB politics, yet initially, I had only a superficial
4 The “Unusual” ProfessorsThe Experiences and Impact of Foreign Professors in Post-Franco Spain
knowledge of Catalan and the academic norms and rules of conduct of the Spanish and Catalan university.
Becoming a Permanent Member of the Academic CommunityOutside the language-teaching field, foreign-born and foreign-educated academic staff were virtually nonexistent in the Spanish/Catalan univer-sity system, and even in 2014 they are still an oddity. To become a perma-nent member of the academic community in the early 1980s at the UAB, obtaining Spanish nationality and degrees (or foreign degree validation) was obligatory. These were highly complex and immensely time-consuming pro-cesses. Despite my radicalism and dislike of such unfair rules, pragmatism won the day. I acquired a Spanish nationality through marriage and invested the time to earn the necessary Spanish university degrees.
Academic ChallengesWhile I initially taught in English in the Escuela de Traductores (School of Translators), I soon began teaching sociology using the expected lección magistral (formal lecture) in Spanish to journalism students. The shared political interests and activity I had with my journalism students in the rap-idly unfolding events of the democratic transition helped me to connect with them. Teaching in a foreign language felt like walking through a minefield. It was scary but—once negotiated—exhilarating.
Handling the obstacles in a foreign language that I did not command added to the perceived dangers. I frequently misinterpreted what the stu-dents meant as I did not know the cultural subtleties. There are no shortcuts or textbooks to explain the complexities and subtleties of the host culture and society. Even with the best attempts to integrate and assimilate the unwritten and fuzzy norms and to avoid cultural “faux pas,” it was a con-stant strain and tension to maintain my professional and personal dignity.
My foreign presence in the classroom and teaching style exposed students to a new, refreshing way to learn and see the world. I was viewed as espe-cially “exotic” with my Russian surname, French first name, and strong, and an unmistakable, English accent. This, in general, worked to my advan-tage, providing me with some kind of “sympathy” points and elevating my status amongst the students.
Differences in Political Views and Academic TraditionsWhile relations with my academic colleagues were mostly cordial, there were clashes due to different academic traditions and very different politi-cal environments. The Spanish/Catalan grading system was very baffling to me. When I proposed external exam grading, my suggestion was seen as authoritarian and a threat to libertad de cátedra (academic freedom). Spanish/Catalan university faculty were responsible for setting their grading standards with no external control unlike the UK system of external exam-iners. Furthermore, prestige among Spanish/Catalan professors was largely
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a function of the numbers of students they failed. In the United Kingdom, faculty with unusually high fail rates were singled out for inspection by the authorities, while high pass rates and grades were considered an indicator of teaching excellence.
In light of the preceding, I proposed that those who taught the same subject matter, mandated centrally, might also share assignments, read-ings, activities, and tests. The reaction of my colleagues was hostile, as such a measure was considered to infringe on their academic freedom. In making my proposal, I had not considered the long-standing and deeply ingrained concerns about external political interference by the central Span-ish Ministry of Education and ideological impositions that were part of the Francoist past.
The political agenda in the Spanish and Catalan context were, of course, quite different from those to which I was accustomed. My political focus based on union organizing in the United Kingdom was a mismatch with the highly participative systems of governance promoted in the Catalan uni-versity. The participative system was a radical break with the past, during which appointments had been politically motivated and undemocratic, and university governance was very authoritarian and top down. The new uni-versity governing body implemented democratic elections in which students, administrative staff, and faculty could vote for practically all positions of authority, including the rector (president). Furthermore, students and non-academic staff would be highly represented in the university’s governing bodies. The irrelevance of my past experience was disorienting and a blow to my self-esteem. Learning to change and participating in the develop-ing political process was a very rich and rewarding learning experience. I learned to incorporate new ideas and ways of viewing the changing politi-cal and social environment.
Story 2: A New Foreign Professor Enters the Classroom—Alice Gail Bier
BackgroundI came to the UAB as a foreign-born and foreign-trained scholar with a PhD from a private Ivy League university in the United States. Before teaching at the UAB, I had spent four years carrying out field research in various parts of Spain. By the time I joined the UAB in the early 1980s, I was fluent in Span-ish and had a basic working knowledge of Catalan. I had also learned the rhythms of rural and urban lives, the hopes that Spanish-speaking migrant laborers had for their children, and the cultural conflict represented by their geographic mobility to Catalan-speaking areas. The knowledge gained from the richness of my research experiences gave me the confidence to take on a university teaching position at a Catalan university. Yet, I found that there was much to learn about teaching at a foreign university, including how to survive its political and social dynamics.
The First Days in the ClassroomIt was a hot, sunny day in early October, my first day as a university pro-fessor. From the raised platform, I looked out over 250 students crammed into two columns of tables with attached seats stretching to the back of the room. The cacophony of students, barely visible through clouds of cigarette smoke, ricocheted off the cinderblock walls. This scene was not the orga-nized classroom of expectant students I remembered from my undergradu-ate days. I stood on the elevated platform with no podium to hide behind or give me more presence feeling exposed and vulnerable. Impossible to get the rapt attention of the entire class, I settled for the attention of the students sitting in the front rows. I began speaking loudly. The cacophony eventually dimmed to a low hum. Emulating my former professors, I wrote my name and contact information on the blackboard, laid out the course objectives, presented the syllabus for the yearlong course, and reviewed the required readings, homework, quizzes, and tests. After answering a few questions from the bolder students, I dismissed the class with great relief.
The next day, I began the first of the twice-weekly 2.5-hour lección magistral (formal lecture) in Spanish. The lengthy lectures were laboriously prepared from a multitude of unfamiliar sources. Students in the front rows would assiduously copy verbatim the overly prepared and stilted presenta-tion, while those far in the back became restless and distracted. The rising volume of classroom conversation forced me to stop lecturing and bring the class to order before continuing. As the first weeks wore on, I continued to be nervous but also became more comfortable and confident in lecturing to the 240 students.
It came as a big surprise, given the hours invested in preparing the lec-tures, when a student appeared in the office and informed me that the class was going to hold a group criticism of me. I was stunned. After the student left, my office colleague, who had spoken barely two words to me since my arrival, looked up from his work and said the only words he would speak to me the whole year: “Don’t worry, it has happened to me; it has happened to all of us. Just go, listen, and then carry on as usual.” These few words of empathy provided some calm to my bewilderment. Standing in front of large group of students and awaiting their criticism, I felt like one of the inno-cents facing the firing squad in Goya’s painting, the Executions of the Third of May (http://www.artmuseums.com/goya.htm). The “bullets” of criticism came fast and furious: Why was I teaching in Spanish rather than in Cata-lan, the language that would better support Catalan nationalism? After all, Franco’s dictatorship was over. Why was I, an American, not teaching the English-language class, and the Catalan-speaking English professor teaching our Sociology of Business and Industry course? Some students complained they could not hear my lectures; others complained that I spoke too fast and that they could not take proper dictation. Students in the back complained they could not see because of the cigarette smoke. Students argued with each other over my Spanish-language abilities. An older student belonging
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to a leftist political party accused me of teaching from a capitalist rather than a Marxist socialist perspective. Another complained about having to be responsible for required reading and written assignments—that he did not have time for homework because of family and work responsibilities. More than one student indicated that it was the professor who should be the source of all information and knowledge that was to be tested, rather than required readings or projects.
Mutual Learning of a New Academic CultureWhile some of the complaints were easily addressed, others went to the core of differences in academic expectations of teaching and learning between my own and the host country’s culture: Smoking would happen during a break, not in class. I would request a microphone. We agreed that when I spoke they would not and vice versa. I spoke more slowly and taught students how to outline lectures and readings and how to take notes. I intro-duced them to in-class small group activities where they were expected to apply the learned concept, not just memorize it. This, however, was a huge shift for the students and created a lot of anxiety before evaluation periods. Other issues were not so easily resolved, but I did not give up.
Stereotypes, Change, and Opportunity as a Foreign ProfessorAs a foreigner, everything I did or said was given additional scrutiny and compared with the teaching standard students had previously experienced and of which I was unfamiliar. The mantles of “foreign” and “American” were laden with stereotypes drawn from imported movies and TV shows, images enhanced in the student’s minds by news of unpopular U.S. foreign policies and editorials unfavorable to the United States. A common view of the United States was that of an imperialist enterprise with low moral stan-dards, high divorce rates and drug usage, and low K–12 educational stan-dards. At the same time, there was interest in U.S. culture, material objects, and the quality of U.S. graduate education that was accessible through scholarships and grants. Meanwhile, Spain and Catalonia were changing rapidly, opening to new ideas, participating in European student exchanges, and expanding Catalan culture and language. Excitement and expectation were in the air for a new Catalan future. Students were curious about the new and different and were excited about finding it through the few foreign professors in their classrooms.
As I became more known through structured small-group interactions, after-class encounters, and student visits during my office hours, I became less intimidating to the students and less intimidated by them when in the classroom. I began to know the students’ their hopes and dreams, their inse-curities and questions, their struggles and those of their families. My very differences—approachable, young, female, and American—encouraged stu-dents to educate and dialogue with me about highly charged political and personal topics that they would not broach with a Spanish/Catalan profes-sor. Being foreign opened doors.
A Clash of Traditions, Shifting ExpectationsThe more interactive nature of U.S. classrooms did not translate well to the large classes I was assigned. I was also unable to embrace wholeheartedly the lección magistral format, which I found not only difficult to prepare, but also enormously boring. After my first year of teaching “Spanish style,” I looked for ways to create smaller working groups of students within the large classroom and to introduce in-class “experiments,” debates, projects, and group assignments. Some of the activities worked better than others. Whereas American students are not shy about expressing an opinion—even an uninformed one—my UAB students were more interested in supporting a particular political line or social correctness. In addition, debating ideas was difficult. My students had a great need for approval by their compañe-ros (fellow students) and wanted to avoid the feeling of verguenza (public shame) by presenting an unpopular position.
Introducing small-group projects and activities within the massive class-room had an interesting effect on the students and me. The first challenge was to convince students that they, not just the professor, were responsi-ble for their learning. I found that a mix of the large lecture format, with small-group in-class activities followed by problem solving worked well. This mix combined both the Spanish learning style with new elements I introduced and was supportive of student anxieties as to where this new teaching method would lead.
At times, my students would do things that would make me realize my underlying insecurity as a new teacher. For example, the week after teaching a unit on roles and norms, I entered the classroom to find the entire class-room of 240 students kneeling on their chairs and facing backward, away from the teaching podium. Even when I began my lecture, the students did not budge. I felt sheer panic as a fleeting thought passed through my mind that I had totally lost control of the class. My initial reaction quickly turned to jubilation when I realized that the students were consciously acting out a lesson on social norms that we had just completed the previous week. In unison they were purposefully breaking a social norm of classroom behav-ior to demonstrate that they had learned the material and were able to put it into practice.
Another change happened as I became increasingly comfortable in the Catalan classroom: I found greater enjoyment in teaching. As I was adapt-ing to some of the expectations and characteristics of the students, they were incorporating new viewpoints and approaches into their own learning.
My determined changes to the lección magistral format, however, did have consequences. In a social science research methods course for journal-ism students, where the national standard was that all 240 students were required to do a research project, I formed research teams and guided them through the process of conceptualization, field research, and the final report. The first half of the yearlong course consisted of lecciónes magistrales, while the second half was a mixture of formal lectures, classroom work, and in-class research team guidance. Both the department chair and the dean
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of the school invited me to their offices for an explanation of why I was “not teaching” my course. While working to engage the students in more meaningful learning experiences, I had clearly overlooked the importance of maintaining the lección magistral and the significance of rejecting the established way of doing things.
Matches and Mismatches of Academic Training with Host Institution ExpectationsIn an academic system that valued long-term loyalty in research groups and well-defined theoretical orientations, my interdisciplinary academic training and the way I approached issues were viewed with suspicion. Because I had not risen through the training grounds of the same institution, I had not been incorporated into the existing academic silos. I was a native English speaker (something highly coveted), fluent in Spanish, and I could under-stand and read Catalan but had not mastered it sufficiently to lecture in that language. I did not endear myself to some of my Catalan colleagues because I was not fluent in Catalan, nor did I embrace many of the Catalan political platforms. However, in the classroom, a potential linguistic conflict was diffused for all, but the most regional nationalistic students by my offer to students that they could speak or write in Catalan, Spanish, English, or French, but I would lecture in Spanish.
Several factors helped my integration into my academic department and gave me a modicum of academic standing with my colleagues. My ongoing physical presence and participation in university and departmental activities made it hard for my colleagues to ignore me. Also, my research on internal migration and grassroots political movements was of relevance to current events, and I was invited to give lectures at various public events that my col-leagues organized. Thus, they had a vested interest in me because I was also a source of information on how to secure certain grants for U.S. research or teaching opportunities. I gained academic respect through publications and a book on grassroots neighborhood associations, a topic of great interest in understanding the political transition.
Sacrifices and GainsMy collegial acceptance came from simply being more available and from teaching the largest classes in the least desirable locations, with flexibility in last-minute scheduling. My trials of being a new teacher lessened over the years as I gained experience and grew to enjoy and find pleasure in my work. My knowledge of Spanish and Catalan cultures grew, as did my place within it. However, obtaining a long-term position within the Spanish higher education structure was to be elusive, largely because of bureaucratic or legal challenges—not to mention the ingrained biases against the stereo-typical American or foreigner who thought differently and whose very exis-tence challenged the status quo. Many students, however, were open to new ways of learning, thus making the challenges of being a foreign professor worthwhile. The following is the story of one of those students.
Story 3: The Student Experience: Reflections on “Unusual” Professors—Xavier Coller
BackgroundI came from a working-class family in Barcelona. Scholarships made univer-sity study possible for me. Spain was then a relatively poor country fight-ing to modernize, democratize, and achieve a well-being comparable to its northern neighbors. My parents saw higher education as the way for their children to create a better life than they had. I knew university study would be an adventure but did not expect the opportunity to study with foreign professors at the UAB. This was a very unusual situation there and even more so at other Spanish universities in the early 1980s. Being exposed to these “unusual” professors would be a life-changing experience.
The Unusual Professor Brings Different Ways of “Looking” Into the ClassroomFor young students at the time, these unusual professors were practically the functional equivalent of what the Internet is today. Foreign-born professors and those educated abroad provided windows through which students could learn from international comparisons and, above all, from ideas developed in other countries. I had my first contact with new sociological theories (e.g., sociobiology) in those classes. I was exposed as well to explanations that were not commonly used in Spanish classrooms because they had yet to be integrated into Spanish sociological thought. Certainly, these unusual professors added to the collective effort of other professors and raised the learning bar for students. As a result, we can generate better explanations of social phenomena and get closer to the giants whose shoulders we climb to see better.1
The foreign professors with whom I studied also introduced different teaching styles that still influence me today. I have vivid memories of the class participation and interesting discussions that these foreign-educated professors tried to encourage. The professors challenged us, helping us to better formulate our own positions. It was a different style of learning: more interactive formats (far from the formal lecture we also had in classes), in which students were required to think critically. Years later, I realized that method was used in all the doctoral courses that I took at a U.S. university. It is also something I try to do today in my own university courses in Spain, sometimes successfully.
The Unusual Professors’ Dilemma of Adapting or InnovatingTo a certain extent, the unusual professors were active agents of a kind of university isomorphism. New ideas and new ways to impart them marked a certain difference from other professors. Over the years, little by little, these differences might dissipate with some organizational learning and emulation; however, inducing changes and challenging organizational cul-tures usually has professional and personal costs. These costs may become
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negative incentives for innovation. This is, I believe, the dilemma of the unusual professors: adapt or innovate. Some of us, students of the early 1980s, were very lucky that the foreign professors chose to introduce inno-vations in the teaching style and relationships with Spanish students.
The unusual professors brought us closer to distant realities, and they were more approachable and accessible to students who wished to learn more. It was not unusual to eat with these professors in the university din-ing halls, while that activity was unusual to do with Spanish professors. I clearly remember discussions on current events (considerations that made us see things differently) and, above all, I remember the fixation on Freud’s social writings by one of those professors (I must confess that I have, until recently, required my students read Freud’s Civilization and its Discontents). I remember also the dry sandwiches that we ate while discussing Freud or general politics. It was not unusual for the foreign professors to invite some of the students to eat at their houses at the end of the school year. I remem-ber the first of these dinners; there were 12 students. We went into a home full of books. There were no pictures and no television. All the walls were lined with books. We sat on the floor, on chairs, on an old sofa, and we ate roast beef. For a boy of 19 from a humble family who had never left his country, this was an extraordinary adventure into a completely unknown world. In my family’s home, we had a five-volume encyclopedia and about 30 books. Rarely did we eat any place other than at the table, and roast beef would have seemed an extravagance to my parents (it was to me then). I think it was the first time that I realized that New York existed as a reality beyond that depicted in movies and novels. We talked and talked until mid-night. I had similar experiences at other dinners with foreign-trained faculty. I learned two important lessons that I have tried to keep alive each semester with my own students: Knowledge should not generate distance between people—on the contrary, we must make it accessible in an attempt to better society—and to debate with students is an interesting exercise from which any professor can (and must) learn.
Inspiring Students Through New Ways of BeingOne of the many intriguing aspects of my experience with these unusual professors was their accessibility. Typically, professors in Spain were avail-able only immediately before or after class. There was little opportunity for a student to intellectually engage with them. With the unusual professors, one could visit them in their offices and call them at home (never before or after did a Spanish/Catalan professor give out his or her phone number). One could even become friends with the foreign professors. Through inter-action with the unusual professors, students were exposed to a more intense international and multicultural air. In the conversations, critiques, intellec-tual exchanges and recommended readings, I was inoculated with the curi-osity virus Bourdieu (1984) called libido sciendi.2 There is no cure for this lifetime virus; it was the best gift that the unusual professors gave me.
Looking back, one realizes that there are certain events that are turning points in one’s life. I had several associations with the unusual professors. One was the possibility of developing stronger personal relations with them. They encouraged me to study English and, when I was old enough, to study abroad. I was very lucky. Thanks to the mentoring of a British professor, I went to Warwick University in the mid-1990s to do research for my Span-ish dissertation. There, I met academics whose friendship I still value today and from whom I learned to be pragmatic when doing research. Thanks to the insistence of another unusual professor, I was able to obtain scholarships that allowed me to study for a doctorate in the United States, at Yale Univer-sity. This was one of my life’s turning points. Without a doubt, I would not have been able to do that had I not met these professors in 1983. At Yale, I was socialized into the academic profession, developed my sociological imagination, sharpened my critical sociological eye, and was motivated to raise myself onto the shoulders of giants. To my advantage, some of the pos-sibly disconcerting situations I experienced during my studies were already familiar to me, because I had previously been introduced to those situations by the unusual professors with whom I had studied in Catalonia.
Collective Thoughts on Being Foreign: Lessons From and for Foreign Faculty
On What Is ForeignThe preceding three stories on the challenges and exhilaration of being a foreign professor and their impact on students provide a rich and multi-layered view of what it means to be a foreign professor, and the challenges and triumphs that can be achieved. Part of the complexity in understanding the interwoven histories lies in the perception of the meaning of foreign, who determines that meaning, and to what degree foreignness represents a challenge to existing assumptions. The foreign professor may view the host country’s educational system as foreign, while the host academic commu-nity views the incoming professor as foreign. In time, as the foreign profes-sor accommodates and adapts to expected academic behaviors, no matter how odd or illogical they may seem, he or she becomes less foreign to his or her colleagues and students.
Isolation or Engagement of the Foreign FacultyThe life of a foreign professor, new to the institution and perhaps country, can be a lonely, anxious, and isolating experience. It can, however, also be exhilarat-ing, intellectually fruitful, and tremendously rewarding in the role of both pro-fessor and researcher. The new foreign professor needs to cope with unfamiliar routines, with a lack of family and deep friendships, and with an unawareness of new professional expectations. He or she may be unable to access familiar academic resources or be aware of social and professional miscues. It is there-fore no wonder that a foreign faculty feels tension and uncertainty.
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Lemkow and Bier both talk about the exhilaration of teaching within the foreign environment and the thrill of reaching students. They also talk about the significant self-doubt felt initially when trying to understand and move within the administrative structure, build collegial friendships, and feel successful in the classroom. While dealing with all the hurdles a foreign professor faces, it is easy to forget the positive impact that person has on the people around him or her. As a student who received instruction and mentoring from the “unusual” professor, Coller talks about the excitement and wonder he felt. Lemkow and Bier had different strategies for overcom-ing many of the hurdles presented by teaching in a foreign environment. Bier and Lemkow’s work and successes were not done in isolation but, rather, with the help of each other and from colleagues who, over time, got to know them and helped open opportunities.
In sum, all three authors over time created a community around them with varying interests and that included nonacademics, colleagues who had been abroad, colleagues with shared academic interests, and persons from different countries. It was also important to be present and available in the department, in the classroom, and at the university.
Using Differences to Engage StudentsThe ability and importance of a foreign professor to bring new ideas and ways of thinking into the classroom cannot be understated, and should not be mired in the contemplation of, or barriers due to, “foreignness.” Coller draws from his own student experiences to elucidate how foreign-trained faculty engaged and encouraged students in ways that were different from the tradition of Spanish academics who had not studied abroad. The foreign-trained faculty reached out to students beyond the classroom and engaged them in discussions over meals, in hallways, in the office, and at their homes. Foreign faculty at times tries to disguise their differences with their local colleagues, but it is often these very differences as Lemkow points out, which make them valuable to their students.
Finding Foreign Faculty in the Strangest Places: Openness and EngagementTeaching is primarily about one’s students and helping them grow intellectu-ally. Learning from foreign-born professors, however, can be puzzling, if not scary, because it can challenge the security of ingrained learning patterns. The strangeness and discomfort a student might feel in being taught by a foreign professor can come from a multitude of issues. These may include foreign accents, national origin, race, and idiosyncratic teaching methods. These fac-tors can be compounded by the student’s stereotypes. All three authors iden-tified the importance for foreign faculty to participate in or create venues for discourse outside of the classroom (which help overcome stereotypes).
As a student, Coller found a new universe of learning when he accepted invitations from foreign faculty for dinner in their apartments where not
just meals, but dialogue and dreams were shared. Lemkow and Coller both appreciated the role of social spaces (such as the cafeteria and snack bars) where, over a meal or a cup of coffee, conversations and the exchange of ideas took place among the foreign professor, students, academic col-leagues, and administrators. These were the spaces for tabletop seminars and free-ranging discussions in which the foreign professor became more multidimensionally interesting. Individual students who were brave or curi-ous enough to join in while eating an inexpensive “bocadillo de atun” (that dry sandwich to which Coller refers), offered a way for the foreign professor to gain insights into the students’ lives. Few left the table without a slightly altered perspective.
Accessibility could also mean eating with students or attending campus events with them, or an open door during regular or expanded office hours. Openness, for Coller, meant the ability of the foreign professor to consider a student’s idea or new ideas and ways of thinking, rather than to the thought traditions passed down from faculty to student without question.
The foreign professor brings, above all, a different academic culture, perhaps more international, more aligned with the spirit of the times—or perhaps more centered on what brings prestige to any academic institution: research. The professor brings to the host institution contacts and perhaps a good research network from which other local colleagues can benefit if they wish. However, often, local culture and traditions are strong barriers for innovation and change. All three authors observed that when new initiatives are introduced, colleagues might not be receptive if the status quo or privi-leges of some groups are affected. The integration of the foreign professor sits on the shoulders of the academic community—colleagues, chairs, deans, administration, and the student body. The presence of the unusual profes-sor is one that can enrich the learning environment and bring institutions in closer contact with the global academic community.
NOTES
1. See Robert K. Merton, (1965), On the Shoulders of Giants, New York: Free Press.
2. Pierre Bourdieu, (1984), Distinction. A Social Critique of the Judgment of Taste, Cambridge (MA): Harvard University Press.
