Guest Blogging on the Importance of International Education

This week, I published a piece as a guest blogger on the importance of international education on the blog of my friend and former teacher, Vicki Weeks.  Some readers who know me recall that in 2006, I had the chance to travel to rural China with my school’s Global Service Learning program, and I would never have had the chance to go if it weren’t for Vicki.   Vicki was the director of that program, and she now helps schools across the United States build their international programs to help students experience life in different settings from where they grew up.  Here’s the first two paragraphs, and you can read the rest over at Global Weeks.

I wasn’t particularly curious about the world growing up. Originally from small-town Alaska, I ate nothing but grilled cheese sandwiches and Hot Pockets, and my biggest life aspiration was probably to move to Seattle when I got older. That all changed when my family moved to a small town in France when I was 9 years old.

Enrolled in an international school, there were as many nations represented in my classes as there were students. Each person I met came to the school with a different culture, a different language, and a different story. This incredible diversity was all celebrated with an annual festival called the Kermesse, where students from each country would prepare food and art presentations. Through them, I unwittingly began my quest to better understand the world.  Continue reading…

Be sure to check out the rest of the post at Vicki’s website, Global Weeks.

The Irish Couple

On August 1st, which I remember because it was National Day in Switzerland, my host mother came into my bedroom not long after dinner, just after dark as was typical during Ramadan.  Her tone a combination of excited urgency, she said “Some foreigners just came by and they were speaking English and I think they needed help.”  Not one to skip an adventure, I grabbed my book and set out in the direction she had pointed me.  Two blocks up, sure enough, was a short young Irish woman with a rolling suitcase staring confusedly at her map in the dark.  Her husband soon joined from down the street, where he was trying to get directions in his very good Russian. In what was likely one of the weirdest moments of their trip, the white guy (me) walked up to them and began speaking to them in English.

Continue reading “The Irish Couple”