WP2: Open-minded
Having studied and lived in three countries on three continents, I had the luxury to observe cultural nuances and perceive the complexity of human experiences. My definition of open-mindedness is to be willing to learn about other cultures without prejudice, and also be open to new perspectives that may strike the foundations of my beliefs.
In my freshman year of high school, I left China to study at a Swiss boarding school in the Alps with people from 64 different countries. Although I only stayed for one year, I bonded with people from diverse socio-cultural backgrounds and heard their “sides of the story”. Discussions in class about current affairs from different perspectives paint a holistic picture of the matters. Living with a diverse group of people gave me an idea of how culture affects people’s living habits and food culture. Conversations with classmates around bonfires make us relish our differences and accept other cultures.
The impact was gradual but powerful. Immersed in a multicultural environment, I learned to assess people’s opinions from where the environment they came from. When I observed a debate between an openly homophobic person and an extremist ally, I could not understand where their ideas came from and labeled them as weird kids. However, when I got to know them personally, I found out that their religious background and family beliefs shaped their opinions. People build up their worldviews based on the culture and religion they grew up in. Opinions on matters are personal choices, just like sexual orientation. Conflicts like this made me reflect on my own opinion. Is it comprehensive? Am I basing my thoughts solely on my upbringing? Are there more factors I should consider that I haven’t? Is what I am saying making sense for people from different backgrounds? How can I get my point across for everyone to understand? Through questions like these, I put preconceived notions aside to examine other cultures, and communicate cultures in a way that is easy for everyone to understand.
Flashback to how I took every chance I had to know about another culture:
My bedtime story had one unifying theme: not to interact with strangers because there are a lot of bad people in the world. For the first 15 years of my life, I was a shy, close-off person who was overly cautious about any outside influence. When I first got to the Swiss school, I was anxious and lost. I felt like I couldn't fit in. Timid, unconfident, depressed, and quiet would be the most accurate words to describe me, until a solo trip to Paris for a two-day layover.
Frigid, pelting rain hit my hand as soon as I carried my suitcase out of the carriage, and then my head and body when I followed to step off the train. Messages and warnings my mom sent me before the trip about turmoil and danger caused by refugees in Paris popped up in my head and lingered like rolling evening news. Had I foreseen myself, a 15-year-old little girl, in a situation I thought was merely an exaggeration and be scared, I would not have thrown those words behind me so immediately and agreed to stay in Paris for two days alone to wait for the flight home. I shivered and quickly typed “hotpot restaurants near me” into Maps. People walked past me briskly in the underground tunnels. Drug addicts and wasted vagrants curled up in the corners of turns. I kept speeding up as if someone was chasing me from behind and fled the train station in disarray.
I arrived at the nearest hotpot restaurant, thinking that I could eat fast and go to my hotel. However, I was told it was an hour wait unless I agree to share a table with two strangers. I sat down despite the uneasiness I felt and planned to finish the meal in silence as fast as possible. What if they talk to me? What should I say? A voice from the opposite side of the table cut off my thoughts: “Hi, do you live in Paris as well?” I replied almost inaudibly: “Switzerland.” I looked down at the menu and they went on: “You must ski a lot then! I’ve only been to Switzerland once for skiing, at Les Diablerets.” The place drew my attention: it was where I skied every day this year in the early ski season. “Oh When?” I asked, my interest piqued. “Just the end of this November, beginning of the ski season,” they replied. The conversation went on. As two college students from China, they shared the same feelings of homesickness. They shared tips for adapting to western culture with me — — be yourself, be proud of your culture, and go with the flow.
That dinner was a turning point as I found out not all strangers are bad and how useless holding myself in was. I missed so many opportunities to get to know about an interesting soul just because of what the elders warned. In retrospect, I was afraid of change. I was used to staying inside my bubble carefully constructed and protected by my parents and the information I received in China. I did not have the curiosity to explore the world beyond what I had because I have never seen it. The encounter at the hotpot restaurant overturned my fundamental value and gave me a new perspective on life. I took on open-mindedness to better understand the world around me and distant from me.