Abstract
This chapter recounts how the lived experiences of an Afro-Indigenous-European Caribbean immigrant constitute his teaching approaches and perspectives in higher education. Particularly, this chapter focuses on the author's journey from the Dominican Republic to the front of the U.S. college classroom. The author focuses on the ways in which his nonnative English-speaking immigrant status influence his teaching practices. Specifically, the author centers intercultural communication processes as a conceptual thread that connects his immigrant experiences, teaching philosophy, and pedagogy.
TopTeaching In Higher Education As A Nonnative English-Speaking Immigrant
The terrain of university and intellectual life is one of paradox. It is isolating and communal; privileging and denying; and functional and dysfunctional. As a result of these hidden truths, the path for persons of color, women, and other groups who are and have been historically marginalized remains one of many visible and invisible hurdles and barriers. (Alvarez et al., 2016, pp. 151–152)
Vignette: Getting the News
My mother: I just learned that we have a final interview at the U.S. embassy in a few months.
Me: What does that mean exactly?
My mother: This is the final stage in the process of getting our U.S. residency.
Me: Oh, Wow! That is great news!
A few months later…
Vignette: Mattress Residency
Monday: I lift the mattress and look under it – They are still there.
Tuesday: I lift the mattress and look under it – They are still there.
Wednesday: I lift the mattress and look under it – They are still there.
The events in these opening vignettes transpired during my adolescence in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. The first vignette illustrates a conversation I had with my mother when she learned that we had an interview at the U.S. embassy as part of the process to obtain our residency (AKA “Green Card”). My mother was petitioned by her sister 10 years earlier, and she, my two sisters, and I would be the beneficiaries of getting the request approved. Several months later, my mother and I attended the interview and our petition was approved. The second vignette depicts my daily ritual in the intervening months as we waited for the big day—moving to the United States. Everyday, I would go into my mother’s bedroom, lift up her mattress and stare at four large sealed manila envelopes with each of our pictures stapled to them. My mother was unaware that I knew she had placed the envelopes under the mattress. In retrospect, I empathize with my mother— she was dealing with three anxious children, and one of the requirements from the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) officials was that the envelopes remain sealed until we reached the United States.
The events in these vignettes mark the beginning of my journey as an immigrant. I should also mention that the person in those vignettes (me) was someone who loathed school; I never saw myself returning to an educational institution. My plan was to complete high school (in Dominican Republic) and be finished with my schooling. It was a long road to my college professing days today! These vignettes are also significant because the events occurred in a place that gave me a strong feeling of home and community for 15 influential years of my life, Cancino. In my imagination, Cancino is not just a neighborhood; it is a place I associate with the themes of “home,” “belonging,” and “community.” This observation is important because these themes have eluded me since I migrated to the United States 25 years ago.
The meanings I associate with Cancino are significant for two reasons. First, that time and place shaped my cultural identity vis-à-vis how I view myself in relation to (culturally different) others. Second, as I enter my tenth year as a college professor, I look back to Cancino as a starting point and an existential “measuring stick.” For instance, I often ask myself, “In what ways has the immigrant journey affected me, and with what implications for my work and personal lives today?” Consequently, in this chapter, I reflect on particular events in my immigrant voyage, and consider how those experiences shape my approaches and perspectives as a post-secondary educator. Principally, I discuss how my identity as a nonnative English-speaking immigrant (Alvarez, in press) intersects with my teaching philosophy and pedagogical practices. Lastly, I provide recommendations for higher education institutions to support diverse faculty voices entering the academy.
Key Terms in this Chapter
Pedagogy: The art and science of teaching and learning; the applications, processes, and outcomes of various modes of teaching and learning.
Higher Education: Institutions in the postsecondary education stage, primarily colleges and universities, that follows the completion of secondary education in the United States.
Universal Design for Learning: Educational framework that aims to create flexible learning environments that support the needs of various learning styles.
Language: Complex sign system imbued with denotative and connotative meanings that structure shared understanding and interactions between people.
Teaching Philosophy: Ideas, beliefs, and values that drive a teacher’s approaches in their courses and classrooms.
Immigrant Status: The status of a person who relocated from one place to establish permanent residence in another. Primarily refers to movement from one country to another.
Social Identity: Constructs pertaining to a person’s perceived membership in a social group.
Intercultural Communication: Meaningful verbal and nonverbal symbolic exchanges and relational outcomes between people from different cultures.
Teaching and Learning Center: Academic unit in higher education that supports faculty members’ development and teaching practices.
Empathy: The ability to identify psychologically with someone else’s feelings and actions.