Issue 91. The Tipping Point January 28, 2010
Posted by Bettina Hansel in Intercultural Education.Tags: AFS, Allophilia, IDI, Milton Bennett, Pittinsky
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Much of my work over the last several years has involved attempts to measure intercultural competence. The Intercultural Development Inventory (IDI) is one indicator I have used extensively. (Read more in “Research and Relevant Bits” here on the www.interculturaleyes.org site.) Based on the Milton Bennett theory of how cultural sensitivity is developed, I am still convinced that the IDI provides a relevant marker and profile for the way that a person experiences cultural differences. The Bennett theory includes strategies for moving from one developmental stage to another, and from my own experience in working with training programs, I am fully convinced that motivated people can be “taught” sensitivity through guided reflection and by calling their attention to the way in values and habits have been developed within their own culture. But the key word here is “motivated” and it’s much less clear how that motivation is developed.
The research I conducted with AFS alumni from the 1980s suggested a relationship between international experiences and intercultural sensitivity, but so often the first experience came from childhood exposure to other countries and cultures, and especially from parents who encouraged their children to meet people from other countries and cultures. The fact that participation in an AFS high school program so often runs in a family reinforces this theme: the motivation is already there.
As a result, I’ve been thinking about motivation, which increasingly strikes me as the most important variable in developing intercutural understanding. While groups involved in violent conflict or even just verbal conflict may grow tired of conflict, they are more likely to be motivated to avoid the other group than to engage them, even though engagement may ultimately be more productive in ending the conflict.
If motivation for study abroad often comes from parents, then why do parents encourage their children to meet people from other cultures? I would guess the impetus is similar to encouraging their children to enjoy music, play sports, read books, go to museums. While there may be an element of “it’s good for you” in the push parents give to these activities, I would suppose that in general, parents who encourage their children to study abroad believe that other cultures are interesting and attractive.
This caused me to revisit the work of Todd Pittinsky on allophilia. Five years ago when I first learned of his work, allophilia reminded me of the “Reversal” type of defense in the Bennett model, which emphasizes an excessive focus on the flaws of one’s own culture and an idealized view of the other culture. Presentations of Bennett’s model often exclude the dicussion of “Reversal” which is one of three types of “Defense” experiences. Developmentally, Reversal is seen as no more advanced than Defense, but rather is Defense against one’s own culture. Nevertheless, the factor analysis that was used in creating the IDI scales clearly showed that Reversal was a unique scale, seperate from the Defense scales. Though a Reversal outlook still experiences cultures as “Us” versus “Them” it may well be the tipping point that pushes people to engage with other cultures.
Reversal is not exactly allophilia, which focuses on the attraction, comfort, affection, kinship, and engagement with the other culture or group, but there may well be a correlation between the two concepts. Of course, the exchange student who arrives in a new culture with nothing but good things to say about it tends to be more welcomed in the host family than the one who constantly talks about what’s better back home. And that first exchange student may be more motivated to change, to learn, and to form new relationships with people in the other culture. In a newer article, Pittinsky lists some common and simple ways to try to generate interest and familiarity with other cultures in the classroom. These may be some of the same things that parents do to encourage their children to become interested and engaged with other cultures.
Might attitudes of allophila prevent conflict? My guess would be no. My research has found that Defense frequently exists side by side with Reversal in many individuals’ experience of other cultures. A certain level of conflict is even quite compatible within many committed relationships. But the attitudes of allophilia — particularly affection, kinship (or belonging) and engagement — are essential for the kind of personal commitment that would be crucial to maintain a relationship when conflict occurs.
Issue 90. Culturally Conditioned Response January 13, 2010
Posted by Bettina Hansel in Uncategorized.Tags: culture, health, placebo, Robert Ader, yoga
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The University of Rochester Medical Center recently released a report of research headed by Dr. Robert Ader that tested the use of placebos as part of the treatment for psoriasis patients. Though many studies have found placebos to be surprisingly effective in the double-blind studies that are standard for medicines, this study looked at characteristics of the administration of the placebo as elements that lead to a conditioned response, like the salivation of Pavlov’s dogs when they heard the dinner bell, and considered how placebos could be used effectively as part of the treatment, with a focus on immune system diseases. Is a conditioned response less than a belief? Can we knowingly take placebos and still expect improvement because we believe in our conditioned response? Or would we start distrusting our medicine because it’s probably mostly placebo and therefore unlikely to be effective?
A few years ago I read an article in the New Yorker about a color consultant named Leslie Harrington who studied 27 possible pill colors with populations in 12 countries. The consulting was related to selected the color that could be most effectively marketed in different countries, but perhaps if Ader’s research team is correct, Harrington’s marketing research is also likely to show which color pill will be more effectively medically as well.
Of course, other aspects of dispensing medicine are involved as well. Which would you trust more: a placebo that tastes bitter or one that tastes sweet? Would pills, capsules, liquids, or powders prove most effective as placebos? Can a placebo be too tiny to be effective? Certainly not in cultures where tiny grains of homeopathic medicine would commonly be used for many types of illness. All of these questions about perception and beliefs involve culturally-based assumptions about health.
This brings me to the fascinating article in the New York Times Sunday magazine by Ethan Watters earlier this week. In “The Americanization of Mental Illness,” Watters looks at the export of not just American medical treatments for mental illness, but also the symptoms as US and European psychologists, medical professionals and pharmaceutical industries make their science and products available around the world. According to Watters’ article, research has long shown that “people with schizophrenia in developing countries appear to fare better over time than those living in industrialized nations.” An anthropologist named Juli McGruder from the University of Puget Sound looked into this question in her study of families of schizophrenics in Zanzabar who frequently believed their family member was possessed by spirits. This belief prompted them to do certain things to appease the spirits, so that the patients were “coaxed with food, feted with song and dance” all of which, it seemed, led to a better result in the long term for these patients than for their American counterparts, who are believed to have a chemical imbalance and whose families try to help them take full responsibility for themselves. Find time to read the whole article.
Tuesday I took a yoga class as I often do. It provides a stretch of the body and a stretch of the imagination, and plays with the relationship between them. Mostly, it just feels good. But yoga itself is a complicated belief system about the relationship of health, energy, the heart, the blood flow, the mind, and much that is spiritual. I don’t pay a lot of attention to the explanations about how some posture massages my inner organs, or the explanations about how a posture with your feet up in the air helps the blood flow back to your heart. I keep thinking that the blood still has to get up to those feet when you’re upside down, and the inverted position of the feet and heart can’t be that important in the equation. But if I suspend these beliefs for the 60 or 90 minute lesson and try to follow the instructions of the teacher, I feel stronger, stand taller, and feel calmer. Maybe yoga is my placebo, or one of them.
I can’t help thinking that intercultural experiences also require this suspension of your own belief system and openness to another one. And it may also be true that in a similar way you can benefit from an action that is at odds somehow with your own beliefs, as long as you’re willing to loosen them a bit.
Issue 89. The Journey Home December 27, 2009
Posted by Bettina Hansel in Culture and Place.Tags: home, memory
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When my father started to lose his memory, it was as if he gained an entirely new set of memories. He remembered travels to Egypt that he had never taken, visits to France with his father (who had died when my father was 14) and explorations of India and Hong Kong. Wherever we took him, he recognized as a place he used to live many years ago. The house he and his father built — he was pretty sure — lay just beyond that hill, or around that corner. My father died nearly 13 years ago, and now it’s my mother’s memory that no longer quite works. But she is planning a journey. She wants to go home. She waits for the bus that will arrive to take her as far as the home of her aunt and uncle in Philadelphia, who will surely be happy to put her up overnight, and she thinks of other places she can stop on the way home. All these stops are with family and friends who have long since passed away. And no matter that we are there to visit her, she seems to believe that she is visiting us. This is not her home, and there seems no way to make it such.
As my husband and I drive back north on the same route we took last week down to visit my mother in Florida, we both fully agree that it’s good to be going home. But the journey home is also quieter and more reflective than the journey away from home. We still notice a few new things along the way, but we mostly recognize places we’ve seen before. Mostly we think about where we’ve been and about what we’ll do now, after we get home. This is a transition place, or at least we treat it as such. And there is more than a touch of sadness to it.
I think many study abroad students also experience this sadness on their flights home, perhaps especially those who may have felt ready for some time to go home. Homesickness happens to many people, but going home never really erases that experience, nor does it exactly promise a new beginning in the way that going away from home sometimes does. Going home concludes the journey and re-establishes our connection with this place. Driving home from Florida, we had many moments when we said, “Now we are home.” First when we reached the familiar places on the New Jersey turnpike we knew we were close and with each familiar landmark or recognizable space we renewed our feeling of being home. We identify ourselves as part of this place, and our lives move in this space and among the people here.
For some reason, as the New Year begins, it is common in the English-speaking world to sing a song from a Scottish poet about not forgetting old acquaintances and times gone by. I feel the same nostalgia with the old Beatles’ song that goes “There are places I remember….” My mother remembers her aunt’s house where she lived for a while as a young woman before she was married. She remembers that she was a student at Southern College, a boarding school in Virginia that disappeared long ago, so sometimes she supposes she is there now, and that the school year will soon be over and she will be going home. So she asks again when the bus will come, the one that goes past that house in Bowling Green. Knowing that these places no longer exist, and that these people are long gone, I am the one, not her, to feel their absence. And I dearly wish that I could drive her home.
