On campus, the United World College Davis Scholars Program is turning
dynamic internationalism from theory into practice.
BY | DANNY LACHANCE
When it comes to international students, Jack Weatherford is picky. In
a world of jet-setters, the DeWitt Wallace Professor of Anthropology
says, it’s easy to foster a kind of bland internationalism on college campuses,
to enroll international students so worldly they’re boring.
Luckily, Weatherford can afford to be picky. Macalester’s international
student body isn’t composed, as some are, of mostly affluent
foreign students from a handful of countries. Representing 12 percent
of the student body, Macalester’s international students come from
nearly 90 nations—the largest number of countries represented on
any liberal arts college campus in the United States.
The college’s success in cultivating an authentically international
student body is partly the result of its ability to attract students from
the United World College system (UWC), a set of 12 international high
schools that operate on five continents. Selection committees in 124
countries send their brightest high school students to the highly selective
schools, where students spend their last two years of high school
following the challenging International Baccalaureate curriculum.
By all accounts, the perspectives brought by UWC students to their
undergraduate institutions are anything but bland. Having spent two
years interacting with others from widely different backgrounds, they
arrive at Macalester with a strong sense of themselves and the world.
“In a way, the students who come from these schools are models for
Macalester,” says Jimm Crowder, director of international admissions.
They’re also socio-economically diverse. “Most of these students are
from modest backgrounds, and they receive their scholarships to go to
UWC based on need. We follow that.”
Macalester’s financial support of UWC students has been buttressed
by the generosity of philanthropist Shelby M. C. Davis. Impressed with
the quality of the UWC schools and the interactions they foster, he
launched the Davis United World College Scholars Program in 2000,
contributing need-based grants of up to $10,000 per student to colleges
that enroll UWC graduates. Macalester’s first class of UWC Davis Scholars
is graduating this spring: Thirty-three students from 28 countries.
Pleased with the success of the program, Davis has announced an
expansion of his support: Beginning next fall, schools like Mac that enroll
five or more UWC students will receive a grant of up to $20,000 per
student per year. The goal, says Philip Geier, executive director of the
Davis Scholars program, is to foster a critical mass of UWC students at
every college campus. Schools already enrolling five or more scholars,
the foundation found, have reported the best outcomes. “What appears
to be happening is the formation of new networks of future decisionmakers,
creating greater potential for all students to be more engaged in
and appreciative of the world’s opportunities and challenges,” he says.
The expansion of support from the Davis Foundation will have a
snowball effect for Macalester, Crowder predicts: The increased contribution
will free up money in Macalester’s financial aid budget to fund
international students who did not attend a UWC, making the network
of future international decision-makers even larger.
And that, in turn, will maintain Mac’s reputation as a destination
liberal arts college for international students who want to go to college
where international relations is a daily reality rather than just an academic
department or a viewbook platitude. Indeed, it was precisely that
impression that brought Victor Llanque-Zonta and Nagi Otgonshar, two
of this year’s graduating Davis scholars, to St. Paul nearly four years ago.
Victor Llanque-Zonta’s parents didn’t ha ve to
worry, as some parents of college-bound students do, that
their child would become a hippie in college.
He already was one.
It was no surprise, really. He’d grown up in the Bolivian
Amazon, the son of academics who specialized in
teaching indigenous people how to manage the environment.
It’s hard to shock your father with your new radical
politics when he’s a Communist himself.
So when he arrived at Macalester three years ago from
the Norway UWC, Llanque-Zonta found himself ahead of
the hippie curve: he sported long hair, dressed in tattered
pants, and wore wooden earrings. He regularly attended
leftist protests in the Twin Cities and, when immigration
returned as a hot-button topic, organized several protests
himself.
But while it fostered his idealism, his Mac experience
was also forcing him to think more deeply about the nuts
and bolts of power and social change. All the protesting
served a purpose, he says, but he wasn’t sure if it was the
right purpose for him. “Once you start thinking of outcomes,
you realize that the problem is way more challenging,” he says. The immigration debate, for instance, ultimately will be settled by legislators, he notes. “I wanted
to be inside, making those decisions myself.”
He turned to his majors of economics and anthropology
to ponder how to change the system from within.
During Llanque-Zonta’s junior year, a visiting speaker on
microfinance provided one answer: Small loans to startup
entrepreneurs in developing countries were dramatically
improving the lives of the poor.
“When he described it, I thought, ‘Wow,
that’s exactly what I want,’—a very practical
solution, serving the neediest in Latin
America.” After he graduates this spring,
Llanque-Zonta hopes to find a job working for a nonprofit
dedicated to development in poor nations. With
that experience in hand, he’ll be positioned to do that
kind of work back home in Bolivia.
Llanque-Zonta admits that he’s less of a hippie these
days. The wooden earrings are gone, and he wears nicer
pants. He even cut his curly hair. But his parents can
rest easy. He may not organize marches anymore,
but he still attends them. Microfinance may
have taken him off the soapbox, but it hasn’t
distanced him from his vision of a more
just world. “The means more than the ends
have changed,” he says.
Macalester’s international students come from almost 90 nations—the largest number of countries represented on any liberal arts campus in the United States.
Nagi Otgonshar can’t stand humidity. So initially he
was excited when he looked at a map of the United States
and saw that his new college was about as far away as possible
from an ocean. Perfect, he thought. No humidity.
But when he arrived at the end of a sweltering summer
three years ago, he got a quick lesson in Minnesota
geography: “How was I supposed to know that there were
10,000 lakes around?” he says, laughing.
If the Minnesota weather wasn’t as ideal as he thought
it would be, his other expectations about life at Macalester
were met—and then some. Before he’d even decided to
come to Macalester, he says, e-mails he exchanged with
anthropology professor Jack Weatherford were already
giving him a feel for the kind of relationships students
have with their professors at Mac.
“Are you a real Mongolian who knows how to ride
a horse, sing a song, and drink horse milk?” the e-mail
asked. “Or are you a city boy who plays hip-hop?” Weatherford
says he was testing Otgonshar—trying to make
sure he had both the authenticity and the sense of humor
that would make Macalester’s first Mongolian student an
asset to the college. Otgonshar proved he was the real deal by detailing with mock indignation his diet and horseriding
experience to Weatherford. Indeed, before he
attended the UWC in Norway, he had lived in western
Mongolia, in a tribe of about 10,000 people.
Since arriving at Macalester, Otgonshar has worked
closely with Weatherford, whose book about Mongolia,
Genghis Khan and the Making of the Modern World
(Crown, 2004), was a New York Times bestseller. These
days Otgonshar is combing through Mongolian history
books, picking out tidbits that Weatherford might find
useful as he works on a book about Mongolian queens.
And he spearheaded, along with other Macalester
students, the creation of the book Doorways to
the World, Doorways to Ourselves: Cross-Cultural Multilingual
Folktales for Children, a compilation of stories
from the United States, Mongolia, Lesotho, and
Jamaica. He translated each story into Mongolian so
the book could be distributed to children there who
have limited access to texts written in both English
and Mongolian.
It wasn’t until he brought copies of the book to a
center for homeless youth in Mongolia last summer that
he realized the significance of Weatherford’s mantra—
“It doesn’t matter what you believe. What matters is
what you do.” Says Otgonshar, “At Macalester it was, ‘We
created a book—great.’ But there I was able to see what I
could do, what the result was.”
Economics courses, meanwhile, have helped him to
think about investing in Mongolia’s future—about how
he can successfully bring monetary as well as intellectual
capital to his country. He hopes to work on Wall Street
as an investment banker because it can “bring together
people who have ideas and great projects with those who
have capital and are looking for a return on it. It’s like
being a matchmaker.”
After getting work experience in the United States,
Otgonshar hopes to return to Mongolia and put his
matchmaking skills to work there. Those skills, he predicts,
will be crucial for the continued growth of the
booming Mongolian economy, which doesn’t have much
of an investment banking infrastructure.
Yet.
DANNY LACHANCE is a Minneapolis-based freelance writer. |