Being an international student in the States isn’t always easy, but it has shaped my identity. In August 2009, I flew from a cold Lima (or what I thought was cold weather back then) to a very warm D.C. I had two huge suitcases, a backpack and my laptop bag. It was my first time in the States, my first time outside my country. I said goodbye to my mother not knowing when we were going to see each other again and wondering how I was going to survive in a town called Charlottesville with very basic English, no furniture, no friends, no relatives and no idea how to get from Reagan Airport to Jefferson Park Avenue.
On a very hot Sunday morning, I arrived in Charlottesville, wearing my winter clothes with $500 sewn into my jeans by my mom, and dragging my suitcases everywhere from airplanes, to buses, taxis and trains. During my first week in Charlottesville, I ran around Grounds every morning before orientation week trying to memorize buildings, buses, faces and streets. By my second month in Charlottesville, I had lost more than 15 pounds from walking everywhere: to my house, to the grocery store, to the hospital (I got the Swine Flu), to Wilson Hall. My English improved slowly, but I had headaches for weeks after translating — in my head — every word I heard or spoke from English to Spanish and vice versa. I missed my mother and my sisters terribly, especially on Sundays, a day Peruvians consider a family day. Learning to teach my own language wasn’t as easy as I thought, but teaching Spanish language and culture classes at the University for five years has been the most wonderful experience of my life.
Now, in March 2015, Charlottesville is my second home: my best friends are here; my fiancé and my dog are here; my new life is here. Dealing with immigration paperwork is still a nightmare, but the University’s International Student Office staff makes the process less painful. I think about my family every day, but here I have found an amazingly friendly community, and I am going to start my own family here.
Being an international Ph.D. candidate in the job market can be tricky: on the one hand, I can’t attend some conferences due to visa issues, and I need a special kind of sponsorship for a work visa; but, on the other hand, being a native speaker and belonging to a “minority” group can also be an advantage when applying to a college professor position in Spanish. I have a Peruvian ID that allows me to vote, but since I have been in the States for almost every single election, my citizen participation has been very limited in Peruvian politics. I care deeply about the United States’ political and social issues, especially immigration and higher education problems, but I am not an American citizen, which restricts my contribution to the decision-making process that leads this country’s future.
I have suffered discrimination, rejection and misunderstanding at the University because of my cultural or linguistic background. Some people have asked me why I am studying Spanish if I am already a native speaker (some of them Americans majoring in English), others have questioned my authority in early modern Spanish texts (“Why don’t you study a Peruvian writer?”) and others have taken for granted that I am a great salsa dancer. These are, however, the exceptions. My professors, my friends and especially my students have made me question and value my “difference,” and reflect on the vicissitudes of living between two worlds and two languages. Of course, some of my students complain about my thick accent or the fact that I speak Spanish only in Spanish classes, and I have heard similar complaints about other international teaching assistants in different departments. However, in most cases, students, at least the smart ones, are eager to know more about my country, my past and my culture.
I think my identity enquiry will be endless. I hope both uncomfortable and kind questions about my role as an international scholar and teacher in American institutions keep awaking my teaching and research reflections, stimulating dialogue between faculty, students and the community while touching people’s minds and spirits.
Diana Galarreta is a Ph.D. candidate in the College.