I arrived in Valparaíso in July of 2012 for my third year of university.  Within a month I was in love: new friends, new house, new city, I felt unbelievably lucky to have settled where and how I did.  I feel powerfully influenced by the culture and people I met there; this is not to say that I now feel Chilean, but rather that I am more reflective and analytical about my assumed (American) culture, beliefs and practices.  Acknowledging that self-reflection as an ongoing process, throughout my time in Chile and since returning I am recognizing in new ways the greater implications of growing up as a white female in Boston in the United States.

In Valpo I lived in a house with people of many different nationalities: Chilean, Spanish, French, German, Australian, Italian, American, and Canadian.  There was constant intercultural interpretation and explanation in addition to the various language barriers. This was an enriching and exciting (and sometimes tiring) environment that allowed me to examine what it meant to me to be an American from the United States. Ongoing reflections on how I approach and interpret cross-cultural experiences, whether in a classroom, kitchen, or bar, or at student protest, has allowed me to better understand the particular influences in my life and how they are similar or different from those around me.

I was fortunate to have some participation in the student movement while there. Having first experienced student activism and organizing in Canada, seeing it for a second time in yet another cultural context, in another language and with a different political history made me further contemplate student activism and history in the United States.  The passionate and organized student activism I had witnessed in Canada had prepared me for the Chilean student’s movement, but marching the streets of Valparaíso was to protest a government with a long history of dictatorship and human rights abuses. The tear gas and police brutality were levels beyond what I had seen in Canada. Despite my fierce desire to participate and my commitment to solidarity, my actions were limited; I am not Chilean, I do not share their culture or their history. I was just another smitten gringa, in love and impassioned and eager, but still an outsider in many ways. As time passed I felt less and less of an outsider, but my American-ness, my class privilege, my choosing to live where and how I did, set me apart from many of the non-American students I met. There, as in Canada, I was a foreigner.

It was inspiring and sobering to see enthusiastic Chilean students working together in the face of cultural, economic, philosophical and political differences.  Even when they did not accomplish their immediate goals there was a level of involvement and awareness of the students that impressed me. Many of them had practice in community organizing and student mobilization but many of them did not. Their processes and approaches were intriguing from my perspective as a fellow student who did not share their nationality or history.  This made personal involvement complicated since I was not a citizen and was a temporary member of their academic community and city. This position gave me a greater appreciation for the importance of solidarity and cooperation while also making me eager to learn to better bridge perceived differences.

I came to Chile as a student of McGill University but half way through my time in South America I finally admitted I couldn’t go back to McGill. UMass was an easy and appealing choice; friends and family would all be close by – a first for me. At McGill I had been an international development studies major, but had been continually disappointed with the focus of the classes. I wanted to learn about people, places and the complexities of our big yet deeply connected world, and instead I found myself memorizing definitions and abstract Harris-Todaro economic sector models that did not feel connected to anything I knew about the world. Coming to UMass meant that I would be a Spanish major and I could study Spanish and also take classes about social justice, women’s rights and the histories of globalization.

My time in Chile gave me much to reflect on the subjects of human rights, women’s rights, education and health, but I was limited to act. My coming to UMass was in part a return to my roots, my culture, my state, my history, my language. From this vantage point I hope I can better prepare myself to act. I came to learn and develop solid skills that I couldn’t learn as a foreigner in a foreign country, including renewed self-examination and identification. No matter how assimilated I became, no matter how deeply I loved and learned and grew, I felt that I had to spend some time exploring what it meant to be me in Massachusetts.

I understand that having a degree will open many doors, and I hope to use my Spanish skills and in conjunction with my strengths towards real, positive changes.  Despite my complete skepticism in the face of any internationally ranked or recognized institution, I love to learn and I want to be able to affirm and expand upon my beliefs.  My time in Chile helped me realize that I am in school because I yearn for knowledge and dialogue and because I want to cultivate practices of self-care and self-identification in ways that let me do sustainable and supportive work.  What does it mean to work for social justice? What does it mean to work for change from a place of privilege in the United States? In another country?  These questions are not directly or immediately answered with a university degree, but studying Spanish has been a definite start.