WRITING for REAL: Writing in the Service-Learning Contact Zone
WRITING for REAL: Writing in the Service-Learning Contact Zone
A family resides for centuries in one nation. It is an ordinary family. Generations pass and, although changes take place, the family is exposed to only one culture. The family is exposed to only one set of beliefs. Suddenly, one generation decides that they will no longer submit to the oppression, discrimination, and poverty that all previous generations had accepted. This generation accepts a risk that no other generation was willing to take. This generation decides to move to a new land with a totally different set of beliefs and attitudes. The family wants to change its ideas and to escape oppression, discrimination, and poverty. It wants to adapt to a new culture and to obtain opportunities that were inaccessible in its native land. However, the family encounters a tremendous conflict. How much of its native culture should it relinquish, and how much of the new culture should it accept? More specifically, the question can be posed as follows. What is the ideal balance between the assimilation of a new culture and the preservation of one's original culture, and can it truly be achieved?
Primarily, it is important to note that the family in the first paragraph is my family, and that I have personally encountered and overcome the conflict of assimilation versus preservation of culture. In an effort to explain this conflict, I have decided to share an entertaining yet meaningful tale with the reader. Hence, I will begin with my lengthy flight over the Atlantic Ocean.
The plane ride was rather short, at least for me. Although the flight from Zhitomir, Ukraine to Dallas, Texas actually takes about twelve hours, I cut that to a significantly lesser period by sleeping soundly from takeoff to landing. It turns out that I had slept through what would have been my first experience in the mystical "Contact Zone," which, according to Professor Mary Pratt, is the interaction through which "peoples geographically and historically separated come into contact with each other" (605).
Angry for having slept through such a significant moment, I was somewhat placated when my mother agreed to describe the event in detail. Apparently, the plane filled with mainly Russian emigrants took off on schedule from Moscow International Airport. However, the captain and crew were Americans, so the confrontation of cultures quickly began. Conservative, quiet, and overall less fortunate people encountered freedom, independence, and abundance. It all began with the snack cart.
Apparently, as I now know is common during long flights, the American flight attendants began to distribute dinner during the course of the trip. "Dinner" consisted of a piece of bread and bologna, accompanied by a small cup of juice. Needless to say, we did not fly first class. Nonetheless, one fact immediately struck the Russian emigrants. Dinner was "all-you-can-eat." For people used to waiting in enormous lines simply to buy a product as basic as bologna, free, unlimited food was an incredible phenomenon. Hence, the surprised airline attendants quickly ran out of provisions as they realized that no passenger in his or her right mind would turn down free food. Dallas, which I see as a symbol of the American culture and people, began to take shape as a considerably different entity from Zhitomir, the Ukrainian town that was once my home.
Fortunately, I would be awake for the many subsequent lessons in American culture that awaited my arrival in Dallas. In fact, these lessons began simultaneously with my formal education. On the first day of school, I entered a classroom filled with Americans. I wore dress shoes, black pants, and a white shirt, as was customary in my homeland. After taking a quick look around the room, I felt completely out of place. Everyone was wearing tennis shoes, shortened pants that, as I soon learned, were called shorts, and shirts. I simply stood and stared with disbelief. I could not imagine that anyone would attend a place as serious as school in such clothes. Ironically, my classmates were just as surprised by my appearance as I was by theirs, and only the morning bell was able to end the unusual quiet that predominated in my second grade class.
Luckily, since eight-year-old children do not generally have a long attention span, I was free from the class' attention for the moment. However, that would not last for long. We were all seated, and then, the teacher entered the room. I customarily stood up, but to my surprise, I found myself to be the only one standing. Apparently, in America, students did not rise to greet their teachers. That differed from my traditions, but I would have to adapt, for I was no longer in Zhitomir, the small Ukrainian town that was once my home.
I was now in Dallas, Texas, a large American metropolis. Ironically, a simple trip between two cities had sparked a complex clash between cultures. In this clash, my culture was the minority, and, therefore, I would be called upon to make sacrifices. In order to assimilate the American culture, I would have to give up certain aspects of my traditions. In order to become an American, I would be forced to relinquish specific values and beliefs that were a part of my native culture.
Richard Rodriguez, the son of Mexican immigrants, found himself in a similar position. He was torn between the "worlds of home and school" (655). However, in the end, he chose education over his family and, in effect, made the ultimate sacrifice. He gave up one culture in exchange for another, and that was a mistake.
During my time in Pratt's "Contact Zone" (605), I frequently encountered the need to sacrifice. These encounters have caused intense and lengthy deliberation on my part, but I have reached a verdict. I have vowed never to turn my back on my traditions. Hence, I would not relinquish that which makes me unique for the purposes of adaptation. I would not force myself into inferior practices simply to ease conformity and to gain acceptance, and I would not abandon my culture or my people for any reason.
Neither would Gloria Anzaldúa, a Hispanic writer who has also passed through the "Contact Zone" (Pratt 605) as a minority. "We know how to survive," she remarks, praising the Chicanos, her native people. "When other races have given up their tongue we've kept ours" (44). I have vowed not to forget my native tongue and not to forget my native culture. However, Gloria Anzaldúa refuses to make any concessions. She attempts to fully retain her native culture and in effect loses the chance to benefit from the American way of life. On the opposite extreme, Richard Rodriguez surrenders his native customs to become an American. He gives up too much. Tragically, they have both failed to establish an effective balance between the preservation of one's native culture and the assimilation of a new culture, but I was determined to succeed.
I valued the importance of adapting to the American culture, and I began as soon as I set foot on U.S. soil. Freedom, democracy, and equality were the ideals that brought my family to America. However, I soon realized that I would have to adapt to a radically different culture. In order to obtain the freedoms and opportunities of America, I would have to enter and survive in the "Contact Zone" (Pratt 605).
This survival would depend considerably on my ability to adapt to a strikingly divergent set of attitudes and rules of behavior. From that first day in school, I had to relinquish many of my Ukrainian teachings and ideas. I was transformed from a quiet, conservative Ukrainian into a loud, liberal American. However, this transition was neither rapid nor easy. Having always been taught to "stay quiet", to "keep my thoughts to myself," and to "never contradict someone in authority," it was very difficult to become independent and to truly experience my newly found freedoms.
At first, I attempted to follow the examples of my peers. Although they were all between the ages of seven and eight, their behavior truly reflected the freedoms of the United States. They questioned everything and were certainly not afraid to speak and be heard. I can imagine that teachers would not be very pleased with such attitudes, but asking questions is truly to key to gaining knowledge and a true understanding of one's surroundings. I had always had questions, but due to my Ukrainian upbringing, I was literally afraid to ask them. That is no longer the case, since, over the years, I have changed dramatically.
However, I was not alone, for my mother experienced a very similar transformation. For example, I can still remember her initial astonishment when she heard co-workers openly criticizing the U.S. government. In the Ukraine, such an act would likely lead to imprisonment or even death, but in the United States it is an everyday occurrence. Currently, for my mother and me, it is also an everyday occurrence, since we are very different from those immigrants who arrived from Zhitomir after that long flight over the Atlantic Ocean. We have learned to voice our opinions and to demand an explanation for everything that we are expected to believe. We are now independent individuals, with the ability, the desire, and, most importantly, the freedoms to achieve our goals.
Ironically, my greatest challenge arose not in achieving this individuality that is common to Americans but in maintaining an ideal balance between assimilation and preservation. Upon each victory in my adaptation to the American culture, I had to ensure that I did not suffer a defeat in the preservation of my native culture. It is a fine line to walk, but I am not the first, and I will not be the last. As long as immigration continues, cultures will mix, and immigrants will be forced to find that special balance.
In fact, the pursuit of that balance will rewrite each immigrant's simple tale of two cities (Dickens 1) into a tale of conflict. This was certainly the case for the Pilgrims who fled from England to Holland in the early seventeenth century. Originally, these pilgrims left England to avoid religious persecution. To them, Holland appeared to be a safe haven, where they could practice their religion in peace. However, there was one slight complication. The children of these pilgrims were becoming Dutch! The Pilgrims did not foresee such a problem, but they were definitely opposed to having their children give up their native cultures. Therefore, because they were unable to find an effective balance for their children, the Pilgrims left Holland and started a colony in North America (Waring 1). Hence, one could safely say that the United States owes its entire existence to the conflict of assimilation versus the preservation of cultures, but that is a topic for an entirely different essay.
Moving about four centuries ahead, the Ukrainian immigrants take the spotlight as they struggle to maintain that same cultural balance in the United States as the Pilgrims attempted to maintain in Holland. As expected, the great differences between the Ukraine and the United States do not make matters easier. Ukraine is conservative, authoritarian, and formal, while the United States, in comparison, is liberal, free, and more casual. For Ukrainian immigrants, these significant differences form a "Contact Zone" (Pratt 605), which makes adaptation to the American way of life the price of success in their new home. Maintaining the ideal balance between this adaptation and the afore-mentioned preservation is a rather tenuous enterprise, but it is unavoidable.
Facing that seemingly unanswerable question, which was posed at the onset of this tale, is likewise unavoidable. Therefore, I must now struggle along with the reader to define an ideal balance and to decide whether it can truly be achieved. Basically, the ideal balance between assimilation and preservation consists of adjusting to a new culture while simultaneously preserving one's native culture. Under such conditions, a person could truly feel "at home" in both his homeland and his newland, and everything would be perfect.
Unfortunately, I will now be forced to disappoint those idealists that are no doubt among my readers by revealing that an ideal balance cannot be achieved. Despite one's desire to be two different people at the same time, it is an aspiration bound for disaster. To adapt to a new culture, parts of one's native culture must be sacrificed, and that cannot be disputed.
However, since I have pointed out that an ideal balance cannot be achieved, the curious reader must no doubt wonder what solution I had developed during my time in the "Contact Zone" (Pratt 605). Not surprisingly, I have, in fact, compromised. Since an ideal balance cannot be reached, I have strived to achieve what I call a practical balance. This balance is essentially a mixture of the best aspects of both cultures. Although sacrifice is still necessary, my balance attempts to combine "the best of both worlds." In effect, two cultures become one, producing, in my case, either a Ukrainamerican or an Amerikrainian. That is who I am. That is what the "Contact Zone" (Pratt 605) has made me. Over the course of my life, that classification may undergo drastic changes, but I will ensure that no word is removed and that no letter is deleted. Although I may give up certain aspects of certain cultures, I will never abandon an entire culture or my family or my traditions. I am what I am, and though I may become more, I have vowed never to become less.
Dickens, Charles. A Tale of Two Cities. New York: Signet Classic, 1960.
Ross, Carolyn, ed. Writing for Real. Palo Alto, CA: Stanford University Bookstore, 2002.
Anzaldua, Gloria. "How to Tame a Wild Tongue." 36-47.
Pratt, Mary Louise. "Arts of the Contact Zone." 604-623.
Rodriguez, Richard. "The Achievement of Desire." 651-673.
Waring, Diana. Issue 6. 27 Nov. 1997. History Alive: Online Resources. 16 Oct. 2002.