It’s a big planet, full of cultures and perspectives that can enrich our daily experiences. But how do you dive in and make the most of intercultural opportunities? Sangita Gosalia, the director of campus engagement in UD’s Center for International Programs, encourages students, faculty and staff to consider ways to develop skills that broaden cultural awareness and help them thrive in cross-cultural environments. Below, she shares some tips.
Imagine an alternative perspective
“Naturally, we tend to experience the world through our own lens or sense of reality. By challenging ourselves we view other possibilities and deepen our understanding of the world,” Gosalia said.
Grab a journal
Self-reflection looks different for everyone, whether it’s writing it down or sharing in a group discussion. “Start with yourself and evaluate your own personal values, strengths and weaknesses. Ask yourself how your upbringing and experiences in life have informed that and why?” Gosalia said.
An experience outside of your comfort zone will be significantly more productive and meaningful if you take time to familiarize yourself. “Take the initiative to read foreign media and watch documentaries. Educate yourself around international issues, global issues and trends,” Gosalia said.
Balance structure and spontaneity
Attend a neighborhood street festival, or visit a cultural center in your city. At UD, there are a number of initiatives that provide great opportunity to ask complex questions. “The structure removes the intimidation and makes [interactions] more comfortable and authentic. It puts more intentionality into the process of relationship building,” Gosalia said.
What’s holding you back?
Fully immersing yourself in another culture can be overwhelming, and that’s okay. Ask yourself what you are afraid of and identify the barriers. Maybe it’s cultural perceptions or maybe it’s unease surrounding travel. “It’s really about starting with the self. We build critical-thinking skills by examining the self in relation to others,” Gosalia said. Once you know where your hesitation is coming from, you’re more likely to be willing to take the risk. Remember: It’s OK to be uncomfortable. Embrace it!
What’s it like to live in a Marianist student community?
We asked that question of Andrew Kramer, who, with six other seniors, lives at 340 Stonemill, home to one of nine Marianist student communities at UD.
We heard about the houses as sophomores, and we had had contact with some Marianist brothers. It didn’t seem too hard — share some meals and prayers. Last year we lived at 57 Wood-land, and we stayed together for this year.
Many of us met at Callings, a Campus Ministry summer program for incoming first-years. I came to UD for the usual reason — it felt special. Callings is part of that. Lots of schools have good academics and dining halls, but here there is something more. Callings encouraged asking questions: “Who do I want to be?” “How can I make a difference?” “How can I connect my studies with my faith and values?”
We are pursuing a variety of majors: accounting and entrepreneurship (Michael Keller), entrepreneurship and international business (Collin Seventy), exercise physiology (Mark Bugada and me), international studies (Nicholas Dalton and Bradley Petrella, who’s also a Spanish major) and mechanical engineering (Steve Miller).
And our interests and activities are varied: Flyer News sports editor, Pershing Rifles, president of the New Abolition Movement, president of the Food Recovery Network, EMT squad, captain of men’s Ultimate Frisbee, and Dayton Civic Scholars. And, as a community, we do service and host events.
A mission statement is asked of each of the Marianist student communities. Ours is, “The community of 340 Stonemill is committed to following Mary’s example by identifying and responding to opportunities to serve in communities across Dayton with glad hearts.”
With our individual studies and activities, it takes some effort to do things as a community. But we usually gather to pray in the evening on Sunday, Monday and Wednesday. We have a meal together on Tuesday night, and, breakfast together on Thursday.
On Thursday night we also get together. We don’t pray. We don’t eat. We just hang out.No Comments
In a recent conversation with leaders of the West Dayton community at a Trotwood church, the talk turned to the future of the former Montgomery County fairgrounds.
“We hope whatever happens there helps knit together our community,” one leader told me.
That gave me pause. While the Great Miami River physically divides our community, the fabric of Dayton is made up of a rich tapestry of people from diverse cultures, races, religions, socioeconomic backgrounds and nationalities. As an anchor institution with a civic focus and a religious mission, we strive to be inclusive and welcoming.
The University of Dayton and Premier Health, new owners of the 38-acre “fairgrounds” parcel, are starting with a clean slate as we think about the renaissance of this land on the edge of downtown and adjacent to both of our campuses. Why can’t we use this once-in-a-lifetime redevelopment opportunity to build more than new buildings?
Let’s use it to build community. Let’s use it to serve the needs of our two institutions — and the common good.
Many on campus and in the community feel the same way. When I walked into the Coliseum at the former Montgomery County fairgrounds for a community forum in November, the feeling of excitement and possibility was palpable. The place surged with energy.
For more than an hour, small groups of people from cross-sections of the Dayton community brainstormed ideas, scribbled them on oversized sheets of paper, prioritized them — and creatively envisioned what the future could hold. Similar scenes played out on campus and within the health system as hundreds of ideas have emerged from this collective show of imagination.
The participants — from all walks of life in our community — envisioned a vibrant, pedestrian-friendly, mixed-use development on the doorstep of downtown Dayton. A place that could attract new businesses and restaurants. A place that connects to the Great Miami River and a resurgence of development in downtown Dayton. A place that welcomes young people who want to study, live and work in our community.
Our partner, planning NEXT, is an urban design firm that understands this property is a special place filled with memories and possibilities. As the firm’s co-founder Jamie Greene told the gathering, “We’re trying to find the sweet spot between high-order aspirations and what we can do together. This is really a community-minded vision.”
It’s not too late to participate. I invite you to visit fairgroundstofuture.org and offer your thoughts. We’ll hold more workshops in January to review the development framework before finalizing a long-range master plan in the spring.
Everyone’s voice matters as we imagine the possibilities, as we strengthen the bonds of community.No Comments
In the summer of 2011, Jessica Davis ’14 was in the middle of Africa on the back of a safari truck, sitting next to a rhinoceros she had just sedated. The transport could have been due to the animal needing to be dehorned to protect it from poachers. Maybe it was because another preserve requested more rhinos. Or maybe, the animal was just sick.
Regardless of the reason, Davis spent one month in Africa trying to protect African wildlife. At the time, she wanted to study wildlife medicine.
But, on her plane ride home, Davis realized she wanted to do more. She recognized the animals she wanted to protect were suffering because of social, environmental and political policies she had no control over.
“I realized I wanted to be the ultimate solution to the problem. I wanted to know why was the first domino even tipped? I don’t want to be these animals’ last line of defense, and that’s what I was in Africa. I want to be their first,” Davis said.
When she arrived back at home in Indianapolis, she knew sustainability was really the solution she was looking for. She went on to receive her master’s in biology from UD with a concentration in ecology.
“Sustainability is not my job. It is my ethos,” she said. “It permeates every decision I make.”
In 2015, Davis became the director of sustainability at Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis where she teaches sustainability courses, handles operational sustainability and engages the campus and Indianapolis community.
Her interests include ecology, sustainability, environmental policy, and restoration of the human-nature relationship.
“The reason I am passionate about this is because I view sustainability as an intergenerational obligation. What we do today will have a big impact on those that come after us. If we do not change our trajectory now, future generations will be forced to bear the cost of today’s decision,” she said.
Some people spend their whole lives waiting for their dreams to happen. Others make it happen. Through his business, Broadway_Buzz, Bryan Campione ’05 builds social marketing platforms and provides event planning services for entertainers.
And he’s getting noticed.
In 2015 and 2016, he was recognized by IBM as part of the #GameChangersIBM platform for his work in social media on Broadway. A man of many talents, he also keeps busy producing new theatrical and musical initiatives.
The common theme in his work is one of art for the sake of expression and as an agent of change. In his words: “What I get to do … is take people outside their normal lives for an hour or two and invite them into a world that breaks their norm and reflect inward on whatever that may be.”
Speaking of reflection, Campione said among his greatest achievements have been building and directing Rock n’ Roll Debauchery, a theatrical rock experience that involves singers, dancers, aerialists, video graphics and more throughout the city. Performers come from Broadway, American Idol, Cirque Du Soleil, So You Think You Can Dance, TV, film and more.
Campione, who majored in French at UD, said the work stokes his creative fire. “This is what I love — collaborating and working on exciting projects like this with people from across the gamut of the arts world,” he said.
He said the backdrop of a vibrant big city keeps him energized. In his spare time, he enjoys dining out at the city’s diverse establishments, spending time outdoors and taking in live music. New York has a feel of its own, and Campione absorbs the constant excitement in both work and play.
“It allows working here to be an exciting adventure every day,” he said, “because just like on a Broadway stage, no two shows or
days are the same.”
A.J. Ferguson ’12 sees Dayton changing. It’s in the way college students are volunteering. It’s in the words of excitement he hears on the streets from other professionals.
“Even 10 years ago, people would tell UD students to not go past Brown Street,” Ferguson said. “But now, when I talk to students, they are aware that something cool is happening. I’m no longer hearing people say that Dayton is this scary, dying city.”
As the director of UpDayton, Ferguson says the positive shift in the perception of the city he calls home is indicative of volunteer efforts, investments and programs that are pouring into downtown revitalization projects.
The nonprofit began in 2008 and is part of those efforts by helping find ways to keep talented individuals in the area.
“Our goal is to inspire and empower Daytonians to create the community they want,” he said. “There’s far more depth and meaning to creating the community you want to live in rather than just moving to one that sounds cool.”
Ferguson got involved in the organization while still a UD student, when he attended the UpDayton Summit in 2012. From there, he volunteered to head an on-campus club GoDayton, which encouraged UD students to leave the “UD bubble” and explore the city.
And although Ferguson’s degree is in mechanical engineering, his full-time position merges his other passions while at UD: sustainability, River Stewards and Fitz Center for Leadership in Community.
“UD is creating the kind of leaders that our world needs right now,” he said. “No matter your career field, everyone can be involved in their community and be a voice for the common good. Because otherwise, other voices win out.”
If his years at UpDayton and UD have taught him anything, he says it is the power of the individual.
“I believe more than ever that our city needs you to show up,” he said. “I’ve seen it. Anyone can make a difference.”
Stephen King has haunted my classrooms since 1975 when his first novel, Carrie, made it out of the trash bin — courtesy of his wife, Tabitha — and into the paperback market. That allowed students in my Literature of the Occult class at UD to scoop it up and trip out over the telekinetic Carrie White and her mean-spirited destruction of not only her high school classmates but also her hometown of Chamberlain, Maine. By 1980, almost half of the books in my so-called “Séance Fiction” course were written by King.
I resolved to woo King to be the keynote speaker for the University of Dayton 1982 Writers’ Workshop. I persuaded Ellie Kurtz, director of student activities at the time, to write a letter inviting him to speak. I told her to stress that his audience would be mostly students familiar with his work and eager to learn about his writing process.
Ellie had a different idea.
She told him a story about this crazed professor who teaches the occult who had been twisting her arm for months, insisting that she invite King to campus or she might not have the use of her arm, or even that arm itself, if he did not agree to come. How could he say, “No”?
When I picked him up at the Cincinnati airport, the first words out of his mouth were, “Does she still have her arm?”
My introduction and King’s presentation on that glorious night is on YouTube at bit.ly/UDM_StephenKing1982.
Since the early ’90s, I have taught Stephen King on Film on a rotating basis with other film courses. When planning the course for fall 2000, I was mindful of the1999 accident that came close to killing King on June 19 (ironically my birthday); I noticed that we would be in session on Sept. 21, King’s birthday.
Surely, a party for his 53rd birthday was in order for us to celebrate as a class his recovery and rehabilitation. The class had such a wonderful time at this event (Carrie, too, who shares King’s day of birth, was included) that I repeated it when he turned 55, 60 and 65.
This year, 2017, King turned 70. I enthusiastically shared my plans for the big “7-0” party planned for the fall with the students in my spring term class. “What about us?” a disgruntled student inquired; “What do we get?” Other students chimed in.
Since it was March, I remembered that it was the 35th anniversary of King’s visit to campus. With St. Patrick’s Day a week away, I also thought of our students’ penchant for celebrating “Halfway to St. Patrick’s Day” in September. So, we celebrated “Halfway to Stephen King’s Birthday.”
We watched the YouTube video of King’s speech, sang “Happy [Half-] Birthday” to King, and devoured the gruesome chocolate birthday cake with dark chocolate icing and red blood sprinkles (so we could remember Carrie, too).
On Sept. 21, 2017, we did it all over again, this time on his real 70th birthday. The only thing missing was King himself.
My invitations will never measure up to Ellie Kurtz’s ghastly motivator that brought him to the University of Dayton campus 35 years ago.No Comments
In Zambia last summer, I found the gift of presence, of love.
To organize what I learned and felt, I used teachings on solidarity by Father Dean Brackley, S.J. He invites us to have the courage to discover our vocation by lowering our status — downward mobility.
Have the courage to lose control.
I seek explanations, justifications, logic. But in Zambia, under the brightest moon, with eight of my best friends, I could let go of my control. My need to understand disappeared because that moment embodied true presence. Mwape looked at me with doe eyes. Monta hid under the sheet next to me to stay warm. Jackson and Chisala shared a blanket. We sat silently; I gave up my control; it was a perfect moment of human connection.
Have the courage to feel useless.
Jonah, 18, was our closest older friend in Lubwe, Zambia. He took us places, helped us avoid being scammed, invited us over for dinner. But he also expected that we could change Lubwe and make it better. After hearing his plans for the village, we sat paralyzed, imagining all the complicated intricacies. I felt useless; this scared me. I told Jonah we weren’t there to fix Lubwe; we couldn’t. We were there to love, to share stories, to learn about our brothers and sisters.
Have the courage to listen. Have the courage to receive.
Adriana sang “I do believe in Jesus” in her sweet 7-year-old voice as we walked home after sunset. Those five words were more English than I had heard all day from her. Anthony exclaimed in the local language how he could sneak home to America with me. I received love through avocados and potatoes. My friends gave all they had, and I received it with open arms.
Have the courage to let your heart be broken.
Mwila, whose father is dead, begged me to support him in school or buy him a school uniform. He works to afford school for him and his brother Charles. He also perceives gift-giving as love; so when I supported another student who wasn’t in school, his heart broke. Hearing I had given someone else a gift that he was not receiving, Mwila believed I loved him less. He ignored me for days. Eventually, he sat next to me and cried. I tried to help; he just cried more. My heart broke for him and his community.
Have the courage to feel. Have the courage to fall in love.
In Zambia, I couldn’t understand everything. I could only feel presence, pain and joy. One day Chanda and Teresa got in a fight that took six of us to break up. Chanda could barely breathe; I was left in shock. I walked away and began to cry, but then I saw Mwansa, a 10-year-old boy with Down syndrome, and yelled “Mwansa, isa” or “Mwansa, come!” He ran into my arms and I picked him up. I stared into his eyes and let his innocent joy fill me. His comfort showed me that where there is immense pain, there is also immense love.
Have the courage to get ruined for life.
One of the fathers invited me into their home. The parents’ room barely fit a bed, and the seven kids all shared another room with clothing used for blankets. Mwaba, one of the sons, saw me inside and immediately ran outside. He worried I would treat him differently since I had seen his reality. But love knows no size of home or amount of stuff. That family is in my heart forever.
Have the courage to make a friend.
This statement felt less powerful than the others until I met Monta. (I am also friends with many others, and I wish I could share each of their stories.) Monta and I bickered, played cards and futball, ate fritas. He jumped into my lap at sunset every day, and although we couldn’t verbally communicate, his presence calmed me. He didn’t need anything but to sit there with me. Me being a part of his story and him being a part of mine reminded me of the power of simply making a friend.
These people, that place, taught me how to love better, more unconditionally. As I look back, the friendships I made and the pain in being separated from my new family now reminds me of my continued journey in downward mobility.No Comments
Eva Mozes Kor is a 4-foot-9-inch woman, 83 years young and dresses head to toe in her favorite color — blue. She has a magnetic energy that instantly drew me to her when I first heard of her story last fall. Within a few months, I traveled to Poland to hear her tell it herself. She made me laugh, then cry, then laugh once again. My life will never be the same.
At 9 years old, Eva was a headstrong girl living with her parents, two older sisters and twin sister, Miriam, on a farm in Romania. By 10 years old, her parents and two older sisters were dead, and Eva was living in a dirty barrack with her twin sister, kept alive only to be used for medical experiments. This was 1944 in Auschwitz-Birkenau.
Her family was identified, captured, herded into a cattle car and ripped apart on the platform at Birkenau in a matter of days. After being stripped of her possessions, her hair was shaved and she was branded — “A-7063.” She was no longer a human being, a little girl meant to play and laugh and love; she was a test subject.
She slept on a wooden bunk, was provided with little food and water, and forced to submit to the orders of her captors and other prisoners put in positions of “privilege.” Three days a week, she walked to a nearby barrack to have blood drawn and to be injected with unknown chemicals. On alternate days, she was marched with the other twins of Birkenau to Auschwitz, a trip that would take up to an hour one way by foot, to undergo tests and experiments. For more than 240 days, Eva thought of only one thing — survival, for her and her sister.
Her strength to survive is only matched by the strength she found to forgive. To hear Eva’s message of peace and forgiveness is a stark contrast to the ruins of gas chambers, cremation buildings and barracks in Birkenau but is an emotional message of the power we all have to be a positive influence on the world. She challenges us to find our way to forgive those who have wronged us because holding on to anger and resentment only causes more hurt. How many of us carry around the grudges, pain and suffering from past experiences? I know I am guilty. And if Eva can forgive Nazi doctors, can’t we find our way to forgive others, too?
The challenge Eva leaves us with is to replace anger with peace. As an adult, she spent four months writing a letter that she would never send, expressing her own feelings of hurt but concluding with three words: “I forgive you.” And she meant it. With those three words, she discovered no one could give her the power to forgive, and no one could take it away.No Comments
Whether we work in highly specialized fields like medicine or technology or happen to be making a health care speech on Capitol Hill, our messages must be delivered in a way most can understand.
All UD students regardless of major spend a semester learning that skill in Principles of Oral Communication, a Common Academic Program course that teaches the foundations of making information clear to particular audiences and promoting civil discourse in the process.
Coordinated by communication lecturer Jason Combs, the course incorporates input from professors across academic units whose disciplines have their own communication challenges. The textbook created especially for the course teaches students to start with the big picture. And then, they’re off:
Know your topic
The communicator must have a strong grasp of the topic’s concrete principles. With that level of understanding, he or she can then determine the best ways to connect with the audience. Sharing a story to illustrate the idea is often helpful.
Decide what’s most important, and present only that information. It’s better to pick a smaller amount of information and have the audience
retain all of it than to present a larger amount with minimal retention.
This helps facilitate understanding and generate ethical dialogue.
“The goal is understanding, not debate,” said Joe Valenzano III, chair of the Department of Communication. “The goal is not to change another person’s position, but to get a better understanding of why people think the way they do.”
Know your audience
“This class taught me to increase my awareness of what I communicate,” said senior Kayla McLaughlin, a student in the School of Business Administration who added communication as a minor after taking the class. “I focus on how to say something in front of different people so they’re receiving exactly what I want them to know.”