A Reflection on Conard-Salvo’s “Naneun hangug salam-ibnida: Writing Centers and the Mixed-Raced Experience”
written by Immaculata Daikpor, Best Pitchaya, and Sky Park
The three of us gravitated towards this article since we are all multilingual, international student WAs. However, interestingly and expectedly, we all responded to the article in different ways. We decided to make this blog post a collection of all three of our responses, so we wouldn’t reduce any of our individual responses unnecessarily. Let’s start off with Sky’s:
Nanun Hangug Saram Ibnida. Well, to an extent. I speak Korean, I read Korean, I look Korean, I live in Korea. But also, I studied abroad, and most of my education took place in an American institution. I’ve developed as a third-culture student, caught in limbo between not being Korean and not being American. Conard-Salvo’s piece is intriguing as her internal turmoil regarding her mixed-raced identity manifests itself in a similar yet unique way in my life. When I approach Korean students in WA conferences, I hesitate in revealing my Korean identity. Whilst we may look similar and live in the same country, our upbringings and educational experiences are very different. On the flip side, Conard-Salvo’s description of the Korean cultural constant focus on education directly resonates with me and my interactions with other WAees. These cultural inclinations towards education naturally frame our approach in the writing process and capture my base attitude towards conferences. It is important for me to be cognizant of such differences and be mindful in not imposing my cultural directive onto others throughout the conferences.
Best similarly believes that it is important to be cognizant of differences, but he also thinks that it if WAs are allowed the space, resources, and community to explore their own identities and figure out how their upbringings have shaped their approach to language and learning, they could grow to become better WAs for multicultural/lingual students:
Conard-Salvo’s essay resonated with me because of two main points. One, it had a tutor-centric approach and asserted that we have to be comfortable with our own identity before being able to run a WA session. And, secondly, it did not offer a solution but rather presented a personal and intimate experience of being a multilingual POC in the writing center. With regards to the first point, I am convinced that multilingual WA’s have a huge advantage in being able to reach out to multilingual students and offer support, understanding, and encouragement. I have experience in the past where I have been able to talk openly with students and allow them to voice out their insecurities and concerns without feeling as though they are talking to “someone who would never understand.” At the same time, there is also a constant pressure for multilingual WA’s to show as little as possible that English is not their first language with the assumption that this is the expectation and a requirement to garner respect and trust. Thus, multilingual WA’s must understand that they should not refrain from turning to their own identities and backgrounds but rather learn to grow comfortable with it and figure out how to take advantage of it in a variety of different ways. This sounds vague, but I do think that this is vague for a reason. As a person who grew up speaking Thai, my relationship with language is different than someone who grew up speaking French, Arabic, or Chinese. My transition to living and working in an English-speaking world is, therefore, different from others. However, understanding this allows me to be mindful of cultural inclinations, which I can then choose to explore or withhold from students depending on whether or not they view writing or language in the same way.
Appropriately, Immaculata offers a variety of questions that try to dissect what a reimagined Writing Center that supports the growth of multilingual students would look like:
Conard-Salvo (2019) in her article titled ‘Naneun hangug salam-ibnida’ suggests that the infusion of a WA’s identity into a conference could have intellectual benefits for the WA-ee. She recounts an incident during her time as a writing tutor in college where she used Korean to commiserate with the multiracial student writer’s concerns. This point resonated with me because I couldn’t help drawing parallels between the University of Texas’ Writing Center and the one at Swarthmore. What would it look like to have multilingual WAs in the Center facilitating conferences in the student’s primary language? By asking students to conform to the standards of the English language, does the Writing Center erase the backgrounds of multiracial or multilingual students? Would the benefits of tutoring writing in one’s native language outweigh the advantages of strengthening one’s proficiency in the language of instruction in their college? After all, after the writing conference, students return to classrooms where English is the language of instruction and discourse? If not this, what else? Rather than facilitating writing conferences in languages other than English, how else can Swarthmore’s Writing Center reinvent itself to become a place that is accessible to every student, regardless of their cultural or ethnic backgrounds? Although these questions don’t present easy, apparent answers, I would argue that the first step to making the Writing Program a more useful resource for students is to ask multilingual students about how the Writing Center can meet their needs better.