Elizabeth Huber

As our our semester long research project at the Chilean School comes to a close, I am left with some unanswered questions. Mainly, these questions are about how elite institutions insist on maintaining ties with their local communities while marketing themselves as global citizens; the ideologies behind elite institutions often conflict with the ideologies and practices of local communities. The benefits of being a global citizen are obvious to me: individuals can be more included in a worldwide setting, thus competitive in an economy that is becoming increasingly global due to a rise in technology and communication. Simultaneously, the label of global eliteness implies that you have the cultural, economic, and social capital to be successful in such a diverse environment.

What is not as obvious to me, however, is why these elite institutions place such an emphasis on involving themselves in their local communities. And as a natural extension, I began asking myself why I insist on involving myself in the local community. If being elite is about the exclusivity and accumulation of power, then why do students at elite institutions like Colby concern themselves with issues in Waterville, Maine? For example, an internship at a banking firm in New York will undoubtedly give me prestige in the form of money, connections, networking opportunities, etc. The benefits of this work are undeniable. On the other hand, and at the serious risk of sounding really bad, what will volunteering as a CCAK mentor do for me in the accumulation of power? With President Greene’s recent investment in downtown Waterville as our our example, why does Colby place such an emphasis on involving itself with the local community?

The complicated relationship between being globally elite while simultaneously being involved in the community is not unique to Colby. In fact, this relationship has been present in nearly every reading that we have completed this semester not to mention it has been very apparent in our student case studies at the Chilean School. For example, our student has lived on two different continents and views himself as a global citizen. He is well traveled, financially comfortable, and attends an elite institution. At the same time, he engages in community service work in his community. WHY? What will serving meals to the homeless at his church do to affect his accumulation of power? In exploring this question, I have produced a few possible hypotheses.

First, the word charity came to mind. Could it be that elite individuals and institutions involve themselves in their local community as an act of charity? Or do they do it for some form of personal satisfaction? Perhaps, our Chilean student or President Greene are so adamant about being involved in the community because it justifies their power. In his work, Pierre Bourdieu calls this process “legitimization”; after our recent investment in Waterville, local residents may acknowledge that Colby is elite, but because of the way in which we exert our power positively in the community, they may not hold resentment towards our institution.

Another possible reason that I produced was the assertion of power. In other words, helping those who are in need of your monetary resources, advice, mentorship, volunteer hours, etc. puts the “helper” in a position of power and reinforces a hierarchy. I don’t necessarily agree that this is the reason for community involvement (at least I hope it is not), but it is worth mentioning because it examines power relationships that may happen at a subconscious level. Perhaps there isn’t an explicit rhetoric that elite institutions help their local communities because “they’re better than them and want to prove it”, but assisting local communities without including them in the exclusive elite institution is only a bandaid: it helps the community in the moment, but does nothing to affect real change in terms of power relations.

Regardless of the reason, the balance between global citizen and local citizen has been an interesting yet perplexing dynamic. And like many of the topics that we explored this semester, my classmates and I have been able to examine it from a personal perspective. Because I attend an elite institution, I can ask myself: why do I include myself in the local community? I suppose part of it is a natural guilt that comes with attending an expensive college in the middle of a low-income community. And another part is that I truly enjoy working with the students that I volunteer with. And though we hate to admit it, part of it is probably the reference we get to put on our resume. Regardless of the reasons, one can not discuss the relationship between global and local citizens without exploring the influence of power.

After waiting months to get the names of our students at the Chilean school, my group was finally assigned a senior boy who we would get the chance to interview. Thanks to the student and to Marco, my group’s interviewer, all three interviews were completed within a single weekend. My role in the group was transcriber, so I was able to spend a lot of time with Marco’s recordings. Our student was very opinionated about his school and the way that it shapes its students. For me, the most interesting aspect of his answers was how he talked about the school’s mission statement and the way in which it was executed through the school culture.

The opening statement of the Chilean school’s mission is “We want to form young people who will be useful to this country and are trustworthy”. This was striking because the theme of our research project is global citizenship and how students understand themselves in terms of their country and the world at large. In our class, we define “global citizenship” as the recognition that an individual is a member of a developing world community that they are responsible for participating in. Surely, if the mission statement declared that the Chilean school was teaching their students how to be global citizens, then that must be the truth.

Turns out, our student did not feel as though his school was following through with this mission. When asked “do you think that your school is fulfilling its mission statement?”, he responded, “No, I think the students are very individualistic. Like they don’t care about society, they just want to be successful people”. Moreover, when asked how his school defines global citizenship, he could not provide a definition. Because the school places so much emphasis on global citizenship on their website, I was confused as to why the student’s understanding differed so much.

I gave the discrepancy between the school’s mission statement and the student’s understanding a lot of thought. Two things came to mind. The first was that the Chilean school was putting a polished and well-sounding statement on their website as a way to gain attraction and maintain their status as a globally elite academic institution. This quickly reminded me of our class’s conversations about the knowledge economy and how the increasing importance of knowledge and technology is creating a more globally connected market. Of course an elite institution like the Chilean school wants to compete within the growing knowledge economy in a way that maintains their competitiveness. Therefore, their emphasis on global citizenship in their mission statement is not a surprise. Even if they fail to execute properly, their mission looks impressive to outsiders.

The second thought that came to mind was the reliability of our student. Throughout the interview, he mentioned multiple times that he did not get along well with his teachers and that he spent a lot of time playing rugby and socializing rather than on academics. Additionally, he mentioned that he disliked his school for a range of reasons. Naturally, I questioned whether the school was failing to execute their mission properly or if our student was refusing to acknowledge their efforts.

However, if it is true that the student is not acknowledging the school’s attempts to teach about global citizenship, then this is still very significant. To me, it suggests that there is a disconnect in the transmission of information. Ultimately, I believe that it is the school’s job to understand the ways in which their students learn best about these topics and to adjust their curriculum accordingly. The fact that our student is a senior in high school and can not articulate the definition of “global citizenship” is worth exploring further. I am looking forward to reviewing his interviews further and identifying where the school could possibly improve its execution of its mission statement.

As an English major, I am no stranger to theoretical studies. My professors constantly reference the work of Derrida or Foucault or the other six million theorists that I can’t keep straight. When I read a text, I know that the general plot is only a small aspect to its greater message. It is necessary to analyze each text through a wide variety of critical theories and scholarly approaches. But hey, that’s just something that I do in my English courses. Or so I thought.

For me, the past week in ED324 resembled an English classroom much more than an Education one. As we embark on our studies with Pierre Bourdieu, it is becoming obvious to me that dynamics in the classroom (particularly those involving power) are just as rooted in theories as any novel I’ve read in my English courses. Like the books I’ve analyzed in these courses, there are seemingly ordinary events that happen in our everyday lives that can be heavily analyzed through theoretical frameworks. This week, we were exposed to Bourdieu’s theory of “field”. While the work of Bourdieu is complex, it was made more simple through a sports analogy. Bear with me.

In his theory, Bourdieu uses a “field” to explain the dynamics between groups of people and their varying level of power. For him, power is relational and people understand others based on the marked differences between them. For him, “fields” are semi-autonomous spheres in which people are placed. So let’s call the “field” a soccer field. In this field, players occupy certain positions based on their skills and what they bring to the team. These positions are determined by a players previous training, quality of play, physical condition, etc. Bourdieu would call this a player’s “habitus” or “system of embodied dispositions, and tendencies that organize the ways in which individuals perceive the social world around them and react to it”. Additionally, all of the players are expected to follow the rules set by the referee. Bourdieu calls these rules “doxa” or the “tacit presuppositions that organize action within the field”. However, players do not often agree on the rules set by the referee. In this case, they attempt to change them in order to benefit themselves. In the struggle to change “doxa”, Bourdieu claims that players make use of their capital in order to serve their best interests.

Capital is a tricky concept because while all people have capital, only a select few have valuable forms. For example, the cultural capital of knowing how to dress for an interview is arguably more important than the knowledge of how to change a tire, in regards to social mobility and accumulation of status. The person who knows to wear a suit and tie will be more capable of changing the doxa in regards to building financial wealth because he will ultimately land a powerful career and have more power and influence over others. Complex, I know.

In relation to our study with elite schooling, Bourdieu’s theory of field makes a lot of sense. Students who attend these types of institutions are building up their capital, or “improving their soccer skills” as the metaphor suggests, as a way to be in power post-graduation. Students who accumulate these unique and limited skills will eventually be the players who are capable of changing the rules, or “doxa”. The systems that are in place to benefit those with elite forms of capital once seemed so subtle. Who would have thought that there was an entire theory looking to expose them?

Citations: Bourdieu, Pierre. The State Nobility. Stanford University Press: Stanford, 1996. Print.

As Adam has mentioned multiple times in class, the way an individual interprets the world is based on an accumulation of past experiences and cultural understandings. For that reason, I think it is important that we (as a class) understand where our classmates have come from as a way to understand why they may see the world differently. Specifically, we should understand the types of schools that each of us grew up in and celebrate the way in which we all bring unique perspectives to this project.

With that being said, hi! I’m Libby and I grew up in Bangor, Maine just an hour north of Colby. In Bangor, I attended a private school from kindergarten until eighth grade. All Saints Catholic School had many markings of an elite institution; my classmates and I wore uniforms and community service was extremely emphasized throughout every grade. However, because of its location and the demographic of the students, it never really felt like a truly “elite” school. Bangor, Maine isn’t exactly the fanciest town in New England and many of my classmates were there on a full-ride. The only difference between my school and William S. Cohen (the public school down the street) was that I wore a plaid skirt every day and had religion classes every morning. My parents didn’t send me there to avoid public schooling or to gain some sort of prestige, they simply wanted me to attend a Catholic school during my formative years to deepen my faith.

I went from an eighth grade class of 20 students to a freshman class of 300 at Bangor High School, the largest high school in the state of Maine. Though I had gone from a small private K-8 school to a much larger public school, I was still able to meet new friends, continue getting good grades, and participate in sports just like I had before. Bangor High School had incredible honors courses and exceptional extracurriculars. My principal was involved and all of my teachers were eager to help us succeed.

Despite the incredible quality of my public high school, I found myself defending it when I got to Colby.

“Oh you went to a public high school?”

“Yeah, but it was one of the good ones”.

Despite the fact that we all ended up at the same college, I have occasionally felt “lesser” because of the way in which public schools are often regarded, particularly at such an elite institution like Colby. Sure, there were some cultural disadvantages of attending a public high school- I hadn’t been away from home for longer than 2 weeks, I probably wasn’t as up to date on the preppy fashion trends, and the workload may have come as a little bit of a shock. However, the fact that we’ve all ended up at Colby College makes me question how necessary these elite high schools really are.

With all of this being said, I am extremely anxious to interview our students from Chile and get a closer look at these elite high schools. Having had little exposure to them, it will be interesting for me to be able to compare their experiences with my own and understand how they may be set up for success at an earlier age than those who attended schools like mine. Let the interviewing begin!