According to Noa Baum, the core attribute that sets storytelling apart is the process of being together in the same space and time, sharing stories, creating a human connection. When this happens, there’s a shift in the brains cognitive function allowing the individual to suspend their disbelief and view the world through someone else’s perspective, without their identities feeling threatened through argumentation (TEDx Talks).
I sat down with former international student, Dr. Viktoria Basham, to hear what it was like being raised and attending school in Bulgaria, and then what it was like to attend college outside the country. Not only did I listen to her stories, but I learned from them as well, and for the first time, caught a glimpse of how much courage and tenacity it takes to be an international student in America.
Basham describes her time in Bulgaria before she departed for Washington and Lee University as normal, like any other kid. Her day started by waking up, eating breakfast, and putting on her makeup for school. After classes were finished, Basham and her friends would hangout and watch their favorite television shows. She would have the occasional argument and/or disagreement with her family, like every teenager, but nothing stood out as unordinary.
She attended grades eighth through twelfth at the American College of Sofia in Bulgaria, the oldest American educational institution outside of the United States. One of the expectations, as Basham described it, was that at some point near the end of high school, one would make a decision about attending college, either in or out of Bulgaria.
During our interview, Basham was talking about how “we” made the decision to attend college in the United States. This confused me, because from my American perspective, I decided what I wanted to do after high school. There was no “we” in my decision-making process. So, I asked, “was this decision made for you by your family?”
“I was really not one of those teenagers that mapped out [their] future from day one to the end,” Basham answered. “That’s why I needed a slight push from my mom and dad, so I would be thinking about what comes next.” She added that, when your young, you aren’t able to see things how adults view them, and if it were up to her, she would’ve probably been off drinking coffee with her friends.
When she first arrived in the United States at Washington and Lee University, Basham struggled to adjust to American culture. She stayed cooped up in her dorm room for the first two weeks of school fearing what people may think of her. “Once your far away, you realize you can’t hug your people, you can’t ask for help; you realize you’ve lost it all.”
The first few weeks were very shocking; the food, the language, her family not being there, everything that defined her comfort zone had vanished. On top of it all, whenever Basham opened her mouth to speak, people immediately knew she wasn’t from America.
Basham stated that once people realized she wasn’t from America, they would ask questions like, “where are you from?” This in and of itself wasn’t the problem for her. Rather, it was the intention behind the posed question that felt unwelcoming, and sometimes, imposed certain stereotypes.
She provided an example where someone assumed that she didn’t even speak English based on her nationality. They used exaggerated hand gestures and slowed speech, as if this would get their message across to someone who doesn’t speak English.
These types of intentions and actions have made her feel like she would never be accepted in American society. “You’re never going to be on the inside. You’re always going to be viewed as someone who came from the outside and is still kind of on the outside. Um, so that’s challenging.”
Basham said something that took me by surprise, that at least once a day, based on varying reasons, she can relate to Clifford the Big Red Dog. At first, I wasn’t sure what she meant. Then she explained, “You know, this ginormous red dog that’s kind and friendly, looking for a home, looking for family, but doesn’t really fit in. He’s never going to blend in,” she added. Some people will say he’s unique or special, while others will label him as weird or different.
That feeling of not blending in is something Basham feels will ever go away. She said that somedays she feels that her differences make her unique, special, awesome. But somedays she feels like people are judging and assuming that she’s “weird” because of her differences.
“But I’ve also met wonderful people who are super excited about me coming from a different culture and they want to learn about my culture,” she commented.
My final question to Basham was “do you feel like a member of U.S. society today?” Her answer was split. On one hand, when she returns to Bulgaria with an American husband, she feels like some people will feel that she betrayed her country by marrying an American. But she does feel like a member of U.S. society. “So at this point, I kinda feel like I have two homes, but at the same time, homeless.”
Looking back, Basahm stated that she wouldn’t change a single thing. Neither the good nor bad. “I wouldn’t want to change any of the good or bad stuff because it defines people. It helps understand who they are, what they can do, how they handle themselves, and how they handle other people in challenging situations.”
I’ve learned that my perspective is far narrower than I once believed. I’ve listened to what it’s like to be away from your family, in a new environment, and all alone; something I’ve never experienced. However, one of the most important lessons I learned from Basham’s stories is that our differences are nothing to be ashamed or afraid of. It’s okay to ask questions, but always remain mindful of your intent when doing so.
By coming together in the same space at the same time and sharing stories with one another, we are able to connect and view a perspective different than our own. Sometimes that means we must reach beyond our comfort zones, but I’ve come to learn that reaching beyond one’s comfort zone only widens one’s perspective.