Going overseas was something I had wanted to do since my early college days. I had always dreamed of being in the jungles of Africa or on a camel riding through a desert, but when the opportunity came to travel to Russia with Wheels for the World, I enthusiastically accepted the challenge.
In the cafeteria lunch line of the Cité Scolaire Albert Camus, I stood between two high school teachers and a small group of giggling junior high girls who recognized me as “elle,” or “her”— the American girl who was spending a year as an English language assistant. Shyly, one of the girls dared to test out her English skills, and tentatively offered a greeting, “Hello?”
Awake early, Melissa Jensen walked out of the circular yurt into Mongolia’s vast rural lands. “I’m from Wisconsin, so I’m used to cows. But I’m not used to brushing my teeth at an outside sink with primitive plumbing and being surrounded by cows,” says Melissa, who at the time was a college student from the University of Wisconsin-Oshkosh. “That big culture change is what I love.” Melissa was volunteering to help rebuild a destroyed Buddhist temple in Mongolia, just three years after her second head injury near the end of high school.
With a deep-fried scorpion staring at me from the end of my chopsticks, I couldn't help but think how this delicacy in China would stump even my best diabetes doctors in the United States. How much insulin does my body require for a scorpion?!
During one of my fall semesters in college, I studied abroad in Rennes, France, on a program sponsored by the Council on International Educational Exchange (CIEE). In addition to many great opportunities to develop my French language skills, I also explored many new places and activities that I had never had the chance to do before in the United States.
In Italy, my friend Neika always did the haggling for me. Left to my own devices, the shopkeepers would have taken me for thousands. She was skilled at bargaining and probably the reason I came home with so many delightful souvenirs and jewelry from Venice.
It is not just with bargaining that I have trouble “putting myself out there.” Despite my tendency to shy away from things, I have always had very big plans for myself. Early in high school, I realized that I wanted to travel extensively, earn a PhD degree, and live an adventurous life.
Because I grew up in a small Greek city where I never socialized with other Deaf people, I never thought there were other people like me. From kindergarten through high school, I attended a mainstream school that didn’t provide support services, nor were teachers aware of Deaf culture and deafness. As a child, I didn’t really realize I was Deaf, despite being born with hearing loss too extensive to use hearing aids. Instead, I considered myself a person with a problem in my ears and difficulty interacting well with hearing people.
In her work as a social media strategist and communications guru, Anne craves the chance to build connections with people around the globe. “I've always had a fervor for meeting people and finding ways to bond, and people gravitate toward that both online and offline.”
What’s Anne's secret to success? On her website, she mentions her “willingness to adapt,” which “spawns innovation." In today’s competitive economy, these qualities make job seekers stand out.
One day while teaching as usual, I noticed new parents appeared with their Deaf daughter. After my colleagues and I met with the parents, I was shocked to discover that their daughter never had been to school or learned sign language. Instead, she stayed at home and worked on the farm. She was already 18 years old. It was heartbreaking for me.
Sitting in class with Deaf peers and a teacher signing in American Sign Language, I realized how fortunate I was to be at Ohlone College in Fremont, California.
There, I studied English and Math, made friends with Deaf international and American students, learned from signing instructors, and played on the college soccer team. What would I have done had I not come to the United States? When I finished high school in Zambia, I likely would have lived with a friend and tried finding odd jobs to get by.
Since I was seven years old, I dreamed of studying at a university in America.
I was born in Iwate, Japan, but when my family learned I was Deaf, we moved to Tokyo, which has more resources for Deaf education. At seven years old, my family then moved to Atlanta, Georgia, where I attended a Japanese school for two years.
While living in Atlanta, I was privileged to meet Ms. Heather Whitestone, who was the first Deaf winner of the Miss America Pageant in 1995. She was my first Deaf role model, and she inspired me with her message of “Deaf can do it.”
As a teacher at the Wisconsin School for the Deaf, my students started a project to assist their peers who struggle with reading. Although my students are fluent English readers, the vast majority of the school’s freshmen students are English Language Learners who cannot read at the 9th grade level, which makes novels used for course curricula inaccessible to them.
Ingrid Sala-Bars wanted to strengthen her academic research, and international exchange allowed her to do just that. Ingrid is from Spain, has a hearing loss and wears hearing aids.
His travels for foreign language study have landed him in Greece, Italy, Switzerland, Germany, Netherlands, Belgium, France, England and Scotland, where he’s been able to communicate directly with Deaf Europeans about their experiences. Steven is Deaf, has partial vision loss and uses a cochlear implant for access.
While pursuing her Master’s degree in Deaf Education at the University of Arizona, Mallory Watts sought an opportunity to expand her professional knowledge by teaching abroad.