B. Amarilis Lugo De Fabritz is a Lecturer in Russian and SPanish at Howard University
The passage of the Russian law banning the spread of gay “propaganda” has opened up a greater debate regarding the challenges facing populations of diverse backgrounds in Russia. This means not only homosexuals, but also racial, gender, and national minorities. And it makes me worry a lot and it makes my job a lot more complicated.
I am a Puerto Rican, and I teach Russian at Howard University, a Historically Black University. If anyone has had a chance to work with issues of visibility and vulnerability when studying in Russia, I think I can claim one of the first spots in that line. I have had students go to Russia for three of the years I have worked at Howard — one as a teaching Fulbright in Omsk, the other two through the CIEE program. I am curious this fall, as I will have my first African-American male student return — all my other students there have been women until now. I myself worked hard to blend in as an American — read U. S., not Latin American — student in Leningrad when I was there in ’88.
So, to make it clear, the fact that I am still involved with the field of Slavic studies, even as a non-tenure track lecturer, and as a Puerto Rican who could have chosen to go into more “traditional” fields, such as Hispanic Studies, means that I see an intrinsic value in this field of study. We all share some common challenges as professionals in the field: the contraction of the field since the fall of the Soviet Union, the change of the field heavily influenced by government priorities to one that works in the “normal” general academic field, like Spanish or French – read: go out and build your private endowment. Everyone who has managed to remain in the academic environment has had to assume a larger share of responsibilities, research, teaching and administrative. Time and again I come back because of my students. Not only have I seen at a personal level the transformative power of mastering foreign languages and cultures, I also believe that there is an intrinsic value in making sure that a more diverse student body has access to the field of Slavic studies. Today, I want to focus on my personal experience as it relates to student advising and mentoring students of diverse backgrounds.
The first area of challenge to diversifying the field is the classroom within the United States itself. We now operate under “normal” modes of operations in most of our academic departments. This is a polite way of saying we now have to compete with everybody else for each and every student in our classrooms. I remember working as a teaching assistant at University of Washington and debating the importance of F. T. E.s – Full Time Equivalents (administration speak for full time students) and its importance in keeping funding for various smaller departments. I also teach Spanish, and I have to say I always have a long waiting list for Spanish language courses, not so much for Russian language courses. Also, diversity within the classroom has become another important aspect of the formulas used by administrators to judge the viability of our disciplinary fields.
As a Puerto Rican, however, I can definitely say that there are other reasons why diversity matters, and why Slavic studies, and particularly Russian area studies, becomes a uniquely complicated academic area to attract diverse students. I “grew up” in my field during the late Soviet era. I was ALWAYS the only person of color in my classes, and I took that for granted. The only other time I remember meeting a Latino who studied Russian was during summer intensive school at Norwich University, where I met a Cuban-American in the fourth year program. I have yet to meet another Latino in the field. I stayed in the field because I had wonderful faculty members who served as great mentors. Still, not seeing a single other person of color in a lot of the conference rooms of organizations like ASEEES always brings up the nagging feeling of whether I really do belong, not because I get told I do not belong, but because every now and then the presence of someone who can validate the complications that diversity brings to the field goes a long way.
Dealing with personal markers that cannot be erased — be it race, gender or sexual orientation — is one of the main challenges I think we face as educators in our classrooms. It is one of the greatest challenges I have attracting students to Russian language and study abroad in Russia at Howard University (for those who do not know, Howard University is a Historically Black university in Washington, D. C.) — why go to freezing Petersburg when you can study in summery Brazil? During carnaval season? Where you have a big and visible community of African descent? I remember my parents looking at me as something of a Martian freak when I told them I wanted to go to Leningrad during the Reagan era. I could have gone to Barcelona, and they probably would have come to visit me while I was there. Instead, personal contact was limited to one phone call in the course of six months. For someone who had otherwise abided by expected Puerto Rican gender roles, this was one tough pill to swallow.
This brings up one difficult cultural current diverse students face in this field: they tend to be smart enough to go into “mainstream” fields that better reflect their community’s expectations. Community expectations can weigh heavily for some students – think about the ongoing debate about Asian-American presence in the STEM sector of our campuses, for instance. One thinks hard when one enters a field where the community can accuse one of “passing” for something else. Also, there are pressures to pursue fields with clear economic returns. I took my students to a meeting of the Association for Teachers and Students of Color last time ASEES was in Washington, D. C. One of my students – a Gates Scholar, no less — looked at us, the faculty and staff members present, and asked point blank: “As a first generation African American student in college, I have to say that we are all worried about wealth accumulation. How can you address that concern?” I still have problems answering that question.
If we can get students of diverse backgrounds to stay in our classrooms, we then face the challenge to get them to travel abroad. Here, we face traditional problems: financial hardship (yes, we all know study abroad is not cheap), making sure courses transfer properly, and making sure it fits into a student’s academic progression. Diversity brings in a unique set of challenges to this equation. In one way, Russia has made the issue of tolerance — or lack thereof — for our study abroad students — a lot more visible. In a way, I thank them for that. For better or for worse, it also forces us to face the fact that some of us have to do what is called “disimular” in Spanish – to dis-emulate our identities. As a Latina in WASP country in high school, again and again I was told of the need to “disimular.” Sad but true, sometimes that is the only answer we can give our students. But a lot can be gained from that. It sharpens your powers of cultural observation out of necessity, makes your keep your head screwed right at all times, and brings you back as a sharper thinker.
The clear elephant in the room is the failure to “disimular” can result is serious physical and/or legal damage. And that gets really old on month three of a four month stay in Russia. Society as a whole is not accustomed to seeing people of diverse backgrounds as intellectually or economically successful. If Oprah cannot get away with buying a $38,000 handbag in Paris (See National Public Radio’s Code Switch blog for this amusing tidbit http://www.npr.org/blogs/codeswitch/2013/08/10/210574193/why-didnt-the-store-just-let-oprah-buy-the-38-000-handbag) then how can I hope for my students to take the cleansing breath of personal comfort in any public space in Russia? Every time I have gone to Russia, I have always walked straighter, obsessed more about my grammar, and made sure I dressed more conservatively than I would have otherwise in a much more conscious effort not to offend anyone in the metro, or in the hope one of the babushki on the train will come to my aid if I run into a drunken mob that take sudden interest in my darker complexion. I drink a lot more tea and a lot less beer. More paranoid? No doubt. Am I wrong to feel that way? That is, as they say, another story…
Now that I advise students at a Historically Black University, I have an unexpected extra layer of data I have to keep in mind. One of my student’s parents went to visit her during her stay in Saint Petersburg, so I was the natural first source of information to help them figure out a travel agency to help them process all their paperwork. I pay closer attention to think tank presentations in Washington, D. C., since the mathematical probabilities of finding scholars of diverse backgrounds here is much higher than in other places in the country. One good think tank presentation can feed a stream of students into my courses for a couple of years.
The only answer I have for my students when they are abroad is to pray and pray hard that I have picked a good program, and that the program is extra careful picking out the families for my students. My girls so far have found the stay with the families thoroughly enriching. One of them extended their stay from a semester to a whole year, which speaks to the ability of Russia to work its magic, if you can only get there. I also insist they go to an intensive summer study program — their program of choice so far has been Middlebury. Outside of the benefits of the intensive atmosphere, I am thinking about a safety network for my students even prior to getting there. My students that have gone to Middlebury have gone to Saint Petersburg with several of their Middlebury classmates. This brings me great peace of mind. Going over knowing two or three faces ahead of time goes a long way in easing the adjustment. It also means they can develop safety networks — hopefully their classmates will be aware enough to know when absence means not adventure but trouble.
And yes, some days I wish I had been a Spanish major and gone to Barcelona for study abroad, like my other friends did. But that would be easy. And I can truly say that my students find Russian interesting, enriching, rewarding, but definitely never easy.
I had my two girls that went together to Petersburg graduate as my first majors this last May. One of my student’s parents, who visited her while she was there (Big change! My parents could not do that when I was there in ’88) came up to me and told me how the experience so enriched their daughter’s life and theirs. Yeah, not to be hyperbolic, but I did tear up. One more of us added to the team! And as I am finishing this entry, I got an email from my first male African-American student to spend a semester in Saint Petersburg. He says he really enjoyed the experience and wants to continue studying Russian now that he is back stateside. This good Puerto Rican girl is now going to light a candle to the Virgin to thank her for keeping one more of her students safe in Russia. One day I may switch and start sending students to the Caribbean or Spain or South America. Just not this year. This year I have two other students who went to Middlebury this summer. Time to start the transfer credit paperwork with the study abroad office…