Fall River, Massachusetts is a city just about an hour south of Boston College. I have lived there my entire life. I moved once, but it was only to the other side of the city. Having accumulated, then, twenty years of experiential knowledge living in Fall River, I thought I knew more about the city than – it turns out – I do. The way that I know Fall River, and the way that I portray my home town to others, is as a large, diverse, economically-challenged, dead end city. This does not paint the most promising picture, but my experiences in the city’s public schools, in neighborhoods, and with peers have all shaped this understanding of Fall River. I was also rather sheltered from the world around me. It was not until I came to Boston College
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In compiling the Tables of Facts for Fall River and Massachusetts, I was able to garner insight into the demographic profile of my community and my state that has changed how I understand the two. The backyard of the apartment where I lived until high school shared a fence with one of several public housing projects in Fall River. Although my immediate family was predominantly white, my neighborhood was not, and through that lens I came to understand Fall River as a racially diverse community. The large public high school that I attended was, as much as I could tell, just as diverse. I was surprised, then, to learn that Fall River is more white and less racially diverse than Massachusetts as a whole. However, I was not surprised to find that Fall River’s immigrant and non-English-speaking populations are relatively larger than those of the state. As a first-generation American whose parents emigrated from the Azores, I am personally acquainted with, and socially conscious of, Fall River’s large immigrant and non-English populations. Given my understanding of Massachusetts as a state for American millennials, it does not surprise me that immigrants and non-English speakers account for a smaller proportion of …show more content…
In making conversation, I frequently asked new peers, “What about your financial aid?” No one had warned me that this might be a bad idea. I was appalled to hear from most students that they would not receive financial aid at all and that they would, instead, foot the bill. I could not imagine paying $65,000 a year for a college education and the idea was mind-blowing. I realized, though, that just as I did not understand the life contexts of these individuals, it was unlikely that they well understood my own life context. I stopped asking about financial aid. More importantly, though, I started asking questions that were more informative: What is your home like? What is the best or worst part of your home community? How is BC different than home? These questions were crucial in expanding my understanding of diverse backgrounds and life contexts. Having never left Fall River before college, I was largely unconscious of the identity of Massachusetts, and even less aware of other communities and other ways of living. It is these conversations, then, that I think are central to teaching and working with other people from different communities. It is in these conversations that I find myself working toward embracing differences, recognizing similarities, and appreciating the uniqueness of communities and individuals.
In compiling the Tables of Facts for Fall River and Massachusetts, I was able to garner insight into the demographic profile of my community and my state that has changed how I understand the two. The backyard of the apartment where I lived until high school shared a fence with one of several public housing projects in Fall River. Although my immediate family was predominantly white, my neighborhood was not, and through that lens I came to understand Fall River as a racially diverse community. The large public high school that I attended was, as much as I could tell, just as diverse. I was surprised, then, to learn that Fall River is more white and less racially diverse than Massachusetts as a whole. However, I was not surprised to find that Fall River’s immigrant and non-English-speaking populations are relatively larger than those of the state. As a first-generation American whose parents emigrated from the Azores, I am personally acquainted with, and socially conscious of, Fall River’s large immigrant and non-English populations. Given my understanding of Massachusetts as a state for American millennials, it does not surprise me that immigrants and non-English speakers account for a smaller proportion of …show more content…
In making conversation, I frequently asked new peers, “What about your financial aid?” No one had warned me that this might be a bad idea. I was appalled to hear from most students that they would not receive financial aid at all and that they would, instead, foot the bill. I could not imagine paying $65,000 a year for a college education and the idea was mind-blowing. I realized, though, that just as I did not understand the life contexts of these individuals, it was unlikely that they well understood my own life context. I stopped asking about financial aid. More importantly, though, I started asking questions that were more informative: What is your home like? What is the best or worst part of your home community? How is BC different than home? These questions were crucial in expanding my understanding of diverse backgrounds and life contexts. Having never left Fall River before college, I was largely unconscious of the identity of Massachusetts, and even less aware of other communities and other ways of living. It is these conversations, then, that I think are central to teaching and working with other people from different communities. It is in these conversations that I find myself working toward embracing differences, recognizing similarities, and appreciating the uniqueness of communities and individuals.