2008 Woodie Awards
Vistas of Continuity
Chelsea Williams
Issue date: 10/30/06 Section: Life & Times
- Page 1 of 1
I always choose the front row in class. Usually, it serves to prevent me from getting distracted, but here at Venice International University, it has the opposite effect. From the front row, I have a perfect view of the island of Lido to the left and the faded green tip of the Campanile in St. Mark's to the right. Even through the fog that has shrouded the island of San Servolo this week, I can make out enough domes and steeples to remember that I am in Italy. This often translates to forgetting I am in class.
When I return to the classroom from my frequent mental escapes, I am reminded of my reasons for deciding to attend Rollins College. There are only 70 undergraduate students attending VIU this semester, so it feels even more like a family than the Rollins community, but the classes are similar in size and teaching style. Though I am enjoying far less homework than I do in a normal semester, I am engaged in constant discussion. In fact, I notice my hand seeking the professor's attention even more often than it does in classes at Rollins. The words that follow my enthusiastic gestures, however, must be carefully chosen and impeccably articulated in order to have an impact on my multicultural audience.
On top of the shifting self-awareness warranted by the jump from a diverse Americanization class to Italian Contemporary History class, in which I am the only American, I am confronted by the high academic expectations expressed by non-American students. As I relish in the superb quality and low quantity of work in the European education system, my German friends agonize over the lack of structure and wish for a more traditionally American style of teaching full of lectures and absolute deadlines.
Furthermore, my conversations with a few Israelis have led me to the conclusion that they envy the well-rounded element of education in the United States, as exemplified in the American student's confidence and eagerness to participate in class. In my eyes, though, they are the lucky ones. Despite two years of compulsory military service delaying their entrance into college, Israeli students generally spend a few years traveling internationally before beginning their studies. Thus, most of them here at VIU are at least 25 years old, making me feel grossly deficient in life experience. Seated in the same classroom, listening to the same professor, we all perceive the subject differently because of something more significant than personal bias alone.
My experience in Venice has encouraged me to confront the effects of an identity layered by nationality and culture on my academic contributions. When I return to Rollins classrooms in January, I will miss hearing church bells chime on the hour and laughing as massive cruise ships pass by the windows, but I will not be able to resist the intellectual landscape that arises when I sit in the front.
When I return to the classroom from my frequent mental escapes, I am reminded of my reasons for deciding to attend Rollins College. There are only 70 undergraduate students attending VIU this semester, so it feels even more like a family than the Rollins community, but the classes are similar in size and teaching style. Though I am enjoying far less homework than I do in a normal semester, I am engaged in constant discussion. In fact, I notice my hand seeking the professor's attention even more often than it does in classes at Rollins. The words that follow my enthusiastic gestures, however, must be carefully chosen and impeccably articulated in order to have an impact on my multicultural audience.
On top of the shifting self-awareness warranted by the jump from a diverse Americanization class to Italian Contemporary History class, in which I am the only American, I am confronted by the high academic expectations expressed by non-American students. As I relish in the superb quality and low quantity of work in the European education system, my German friends agonize over the lack of structure and wish for a more traditionally American style of teaching full of lectures and absolute deadlines.
Furthermore, my conversations with a few Israelis have led me to the conclusion that they envy the well-rounded element of education in the United States, as exemplified in the American student's confidence and eagerness to participate in class. In my eyes, though, they are the lucky ones. Despite two years of compulsory military service delaying their entrance into college, Israeli students generally spend a few years traveling internationally before beginning their studies. Thus, most of them here at VIU are at least 25 years old, making me feel grossly deficient in life experience. Seated in the same classroom, listening to the same professor, we all perceive the subject differently because of something more significant than personal bias alone.
My experience in Venice has encouraged me to confront the effects of an identity layered by nationality and culture on my academic contributions. When I return to Rollins classrooms in January, I will miss hearing church bells chime on the hour and laughing as massive cruise ships pass by the windows, but I will not be able to resist the intellectual landscape that arises when I sit in the front.
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