There is always drama in study abroad programs, so much that I think scientists should conduct a study on what happens to your brain abroad.
There can be many factors as to why your exchange is not a pleasant one. Not adjusting to the learning environment, relationships going awry, the culture of the city you’re in, or in my case– all three.
Being a person of color in a foreign land can project the feelings of prejudice we all know too well. Here are some tips I’ve learned along the way.
Research beforehand
Coming from Atlanta, a city that is more than 50% black, to Newcastle, England, a town that is only two percent black, was a big shift. I didn’t do research on the city in depth until after I had already applied. While the population percentage didn’t scare me off, it also didn’t settle well with me.
An advisor of the program told me to accept some problematic remarks, but upon talking to a black girl who went before me, she said it was the one time she wasn’t aware of her blackness. She felt free. With this statement, I was sure that I would have the same experience. I went with optimism in my heart, knowing that there was no way England could be any worse than America had already been.
I was wrong.
I urge you to talk to people, particularly other people of color, who may have gone to the same city you’re going to live in, some of whom will have good and bad experiences. No two experiences are alike, so while it is good to research, know that you may not have the same experience as everyone else. Take it as a new adventure never been done before.
Image Credit: Robert E Blackmon
Speak up beforehand
When I was in England, it seemed I was a magnet for any ignorant person whether they were drunk or not. I was always asked questions about rappers who I had never heard of. I was always looked upon through the eyes of others. I would be repeatedly asked where in Africa I was from, as if the idea of me never being able to know that, by being a descendant of slaves, wasn’t already painful enough.
By far, the most infuriating thing were white people touching my hair. Most of the time it was without my consent, and on the occasion I was able to confront them, they’d either lie or, tell me that I was the one with the problem.
It got to the point where I was genuinely considering cutting my hair off because I was so tired of it being a spectacle.
As someone who hadn’t dealt with such microaggressions, I was not ready to confront all the people who made me uncomfortable. And being an outsider, representing not only my race and gender (and trying to debunk all the stereotypes of being an angry black woman) made me uneasy about confrontation. I had been blessed to have this grand opportunity. How could I confront them in a respectful way that didn’t land me losing my visa?
This, I would come to learn, is the epitome of marginalization. My best advice would be to confront it ASAP.
My hair was touched about 13-14 times (Yes, your girl was keeping count) over my yearly stay, with each touch becoming more suffocating than the last. I wish I had the courage to say what I felt from the get-go, without caring about how callous this would come off as.
You are already judged the minute you walk by. You might as well be respected in doing so.
And you can still be fair about it! “Um, excuse me but I don’t like you touching me, especially without my permission.” or “that makes me really uncomfortable.” If you see the hand coming up, move immediately, or maybe ask “What are you doing?”
They probably will snap out of their trance and see the error of the ways. Some won’t. Kindly explain that you don’t want to be touched. You don’t have to offer more explanation than that.
Your consent should be enough.
Image Credit: Issa Rae
You will probably have an identity crisis. You’re not alone.
If there was one thing to come out of the racism I experienced, it was a newfound pride in my unique identity.
While my town did have people of color, and there was an Afro-Caribbean Society at the school, I still felt quite alone. In fact, there was only one other African American girl at the school. As a means of comradery, we naturally bonded. Though I had found solace in the Afro-Caribbean Society, I still felt like I was the only person to understand what I was going through. In truth, there are probably plenty of people who have felt the way you do. I know such change can feel overwhelming, like you don’t belong anywhere.
I felt that I had to cover my Americanness in the face of politics, my blackness in the proximity of whiteness, my womanhood amoung the prying (and often fetishizing) eyes of men, and my personality in respect for culture. At a time where I wanted to experience everything this trip gave, I also wanted to be invisible. Such the case can be exhausting, but please don’t let it discourage you. You don’t have to be anything other than yourself, because you’re right where you need to be.
While it is important to respect the culture of another place, you must also not allow others to project their own ideals of what you should be onto you. This is probably the hardest thing to do but mastering it will allow for a better time. While being surrounded by different opinions is a natural side effect of going anywhere new, you should still be able to exist comfortably. Do not allow closed minds to ruin the opportunity of a lifetime.
You will only be abroad for a short period of time. Being black, particularly a black girl abroad, means stares and feeling misunderstood at every turn. Understand that you are not there to please, nor do you owe it to anyone to be the ‘best example’ of a black woman. The only thing you can do is enjoy the moment, be courageous, and walk in your purpose knowing that all your black sisters, especially me, are rooting for you.
Image Credit: Jazmyn Lawson
Hope you enjoyed this part of my So You Think You Can Study Abroad series! The fourth and final part of this series, focusing on planning the perfect trip, will be coming soon.