The Private Eye

My bedroom is a personal space; these decorative cranes are a result of my control in this setting.

I would consider the confines of my bedroom a private space. It seems so when compared to a place like a shopping centre. A golf club could be considered a ‘semi-public’ space – enabling public access with the exclusivity of private membership. The ‘semi-/public’ and ‘private’ can be understood in terms of the access and control that individuals have in each space (Bowles & Turnbull 2015).

Communications technology is blurring the difference. The moral principles that govern our behaviour in these spaces is changing. In other words, communications technology in public spaces is affecting our interactions, both with the technology and with other people. Whether a public phone call can be considered ‘private’ is questioned if the conversation can be heard by surrounding strangers.

Photography as ethnography

Ethnography is the research of everyday life and practice. Photography in public spaces is a form of this research. A photograph can be used as a source of qualitative data, and with this “the ethnographer relies on a cultural frame of analysis” (Hoey 2015). The researcher is able to form a cultural interpretation based on the photograph’s contents. However, as imperative practice in any field of research, ethical considerations are to be made before content can be collected, studied, and published – particularly content involving the depiction of others.

I would consider a theatre to be a semi-public space as access is limited to ticket-holders.

I’ve taken a photograph of my experience in a movie theatre. Before taking it, I made no consideration about any potential ethical responsibilities I may have had at that moment. The people in front of me had no idea I was about to photograph them. I took the picture because I wanted others who weren’t in my immediate presence to see what I was seeing.

Gross (1991) argues that photographic and telecommunications technology have caused a “cultural explosion” (p. 4). I further this claim by saying that the ever-present nature of photographic imagery in our lives represent a connection to the world beyond our immediate space. Our pocket-sized technology is only fostering this ‘connection’. It explains the inherent ‘need’ to share pictures of sleeping commuters, knowing the potential reception, even if we have to sacrifice the dignity of others.

Is it ever OK to photograph strangers on a train?

I try not to photograph strangers in public. Sometimes it seems unavoidable, but there is a difference between invading another’s privacy (in public) and having unknown subjects in the background of your photograph. If I’m photographing in a public space, it’s highly unlikely that I’d ask everyone around me to clear the way. I’d try my best to at least not include others’ faces. The face is the ultimate source of identification.

I wouldn’t be surprised if I’ve been in the background of someone else’s picture — an unknowing photobomb.

My approach to photographic ethnography would be better premeditated. This style of research in public space would involve communication with targeted subjects. Unlike these men taking up too much space, those whose practices I attempt to study would be aware of my intentions to document them. This exchange would occur after having photographed them as a method of capturing more genuine, candid content.

Subjects in public spaces deserve privacy. There is already enough surveillance – we don’t need to become our own big brother.

References:

Bowles, K & Turnbull, S 2015, ‘Public televisions and personal devices’, lecture slides, BCM240, University of Wollongong, viewed 1 September 2015.

Gross, L Katz, JS & Ruby, J 1991, Image Ethics, Oxford University Press, New York.

Hoey, BA 2015, ‘What is ethnography?’, Brian Hoey, viewed 2 September 2015, <http://brianhoey.com/research/ethnography/&gt;.

Straight Outta Uni

…and into the cinema. 

At least that’s how I wish it were. Perhaps my general contentedness with spontaneity explains why I entered the theatre 15 minutes late. Ok, so it was more like 20.

I did not ooze of this confidence upon entering the theatre. (source)

Some context:

 > I’d booked online tickets for  Straight Outta Compton.

> I’m reliant on public transport. From the uni, it would take about an hour to get to this cinema (my local).

> This meant I’d be carrying uni gear into the cinema…not that terrible a thing, but a little inconvenient!

> A friend offered a lift from uni – yay! Now I could get home in 30 minutes. I’d drop my things and take my mum’s car.

> Alas, my lift-offering friend didn’t quite inform me of the distance to get to their car…and that they needed petrol…and that they were hungry…

> Subway sandwiches take f o r e v e r to make, especially when extra spinach is requested…

And so my lack of organisation, coupled with factors out of my control (let’s call them ‘constraints’), resulted in my cinema lateness. Could I have done better?

Torsten Hägerstand (source)

Torsten Hägerstrand studied these constraints. He proposed the ‘space-time path’ concept – a way of showing how we navigate simultaneously through space and time, and the limitations that often dictate this activity (Corbett 2011).

The limitations are categorised into three. Let’s see how they fit into my experience:

1. Capability: restrictions arising from a person’s biological structure.
I couldn’t be in two places at once. This meant I had to sacrifice time to travel between the space of uni and the cinema. My friend’s car gave me spatial-temporal advantage over the use of public transport.

2. Coupling: the need to be in a particular place at a particular time to accomplish a particular task. This often involves interaction with others, during which the space-time paths of inter-actors link up.
I needed to be home directly after uni. Home was where I’d unload my things and take the car. The car was needed to transport me and to pick up others. All of this needed to happen with enough time to be punctual. This obviously didn’t happen.

3. Authority: the entity of control over an area. These people or institutions define the exclusivity of particular places.
I had to find a parking space before entering the cinema. The council dictated the business hours of that space and whether I was permitted to park in particular spots (for example, I was not to park in spaces reserved for people with disabilities).

As Hägerstrand’s classifications show, there are different factors in our spatial-temporal paths that affect our social planning.

“Just sit here!”

My subsequent in-cinema behaviour was influenced by my lateness. We headed for the centre aisle towards our booked seats. All I could see was darkness. With this, my friend promptly ordered, “Just sit here!” – and so we set ourselves in a side row, avoiding the awkwardness of trampling feet.

We were constrained by our lack of night vision and the people already occupying our aisle – all compounded by the fact that we were significantly late.

“I was kind of disappointed”

The online cinematic experience isn’t something to rush for. There is no schedule. No vacated seating. The experience is an alternative luxury of on-demand media streaming and torrent services. Had I decided to torrent Straight Outta Compton, I wouldn’t have had to spend the time, money, or energy that I did to get to the cinema.

Some of the patrons that evening could’ve benefited from torrent services (no, this is not me advocating criminal activity…). I overheard upon exiting: “I expected it to be different…I was kind of disappointed.” A reaction like this encourages cinema-goers to rethink their attendance. Torrents are a convenience, despite their illegality and potential repercussions.

Daly (2008) compares movie torrents with MP3 downloading: “Like the music industry, the [film] studios are just starting to realize that they have to compete…” (p. 70). Daly cites Netflix and Amazon as examples of distribution venues that the film industry have taken to. The success is evident. According to latest estimates, Netflix boasts 65.55 million subscribers in the U.S. alone (Udland 2015). It has even become attached to a meme associated with film-viewing behaviour.

“Netflix and chill”: not as obvious as it may seem… (source)

Actor Morgan Freeman has taken advantage of consumer movement. Freeman’s company, Revelations Entertainment, co-founded ClickStar which offers online streaming of films on the day of theatre release. This is a direct response to the shift of consumer attitude and behaviour towards (or rather, away from) cinema attendance.

The trend is online and ongoing. I already have a Netflix subscription.

 

*for anyone unfamiliar with the abbreviation, ‘uni’ means ‘university’

References:

Corbett, J 2011, Torsten : Time Geography, Center for Spatially Integrated Social Science, viewed 31 August 2015, <http://www.csiss.org/classics/content/29&gt;.

Daly, KM 2008, ‘Cinema 3.0: How Digital and Computer Technologies are Changing Cinema’, PhD thesis, Columbia University, New York.

Udland, Myles 2015, ‘Netflix stock explodes after earnings’, Business Insider, 16 July, viewed 31 August, <http://www.businessinsider.com.au/netflix-second-quarter-earnings-2015-7&gt;.

Disconnected Networks

A total of 7 devices in my household are connected to the internet. Most of them belong to me.

I don’t know much about the stats of our internet usage. I don’t keep track of it, nor do I pay for it; I just consume it!

Here’s what my provider tells me:

Screenshot of my household’s current data usage. Looks like I need to go on several TV show binges.

It seems like we’ve got an overwhelming amount of data… Perhaps we’re not using the internet to its fullest potential.

My mum is the only family member who doesn’t access the internet. It’s not that she doesn’t own a connectable device. Nor is it that she doesn’t have the knowledge. She just doesn’t feel a need to use the internet. What a strange, foreign feeling I could never imagine having. She considers it time-consuming (what an understatement) and prefers other, more ‘traditional’ modes of entertainment and communication.

So, that leaves the rest of my family. Each of us are ‘connected’, but not all ‘networked’. I’m the only one who owns devices which have been synced with others. One time I showed my dad how to stream YouTube videos from his phone to the TV, but I know for a fact that he’ll never ask me again. “It’s too complicated.”

We each have different purposes for the internet.

My dad and brother are quite fond of the YouTube application on our TV. It’s the only app they access. My brother is a big fan of football, and chooses to watch lots of replays and highlights. My dad is interested in history, politics and Turkish dramas. Perhaps being connected to the internet in the living room, compared to the study, adds a more relaxed aspect to their experience. For them, this experience is leisure.

Smart TV YouTube application (source)

My use of the internet is social, academic, and leisure. I’ve connected my social networks on each device: iPod, phone, laptop. I rely on the internet for research and for keeping up with my classes. My phone is my laptop when I want to browse in bed. There’s no escaping this reliance because it has become a necessity.

Paul Miller spent a year without the internet. He found the first few months to be cleansing; it relieved him of so much stress believed to have been caused by his online presence. No more flooded inboxes. No cats. No tabs. But in the lead up to resuming his virtual life, Miller reflected that the internet wasn’t the source of his problems.

“I confused the issue…it was internal more than it was external”

While I don’t consider my reliance as intense as Miller’s, the internet is my homie. I experience it differently to my family. We each ‘connect’ in our own ways. It may make me ‘disconnected’ from the physical place of my home, but the virtual world is a part of my reality as much as my reality is a part of the virtual world.

Reds Under the TV

I didn’t know if she’d even had a television growing up. I’d simply never asked.

She recalled watching the Thai version of ‘Spider-Man’ (source)

I interviewed my mother about her experiences with television. The start of conversation detailed her memories of children’s cartoons, soap operas and music concerts. Nothing really ‘unusual’ from my perspective.

It wasn’t until I asked about certain rules or expectations that I became more intrigued.

“I always watched with other people”

TV-viewing was a social experience for my mother. The value of family, so deeply embedded in her upbringing, allowed the TV (and the living room it situated) to be a place of family bonding. It was unusual to watch alone. From reading my peers’ posts, this seems to be a common theme among interviewees belonging to older generations.

Livingstone’s (2009) study of television and the family finds that individual behaviour of TV consumption tends to change with age. From childhood to adolescence it becomes more of a personal activity. More “individualised” (p. 4).

Perhaps this wasn’t the case for my mother (or at least not according to her recollection), but it certainly applies to my experience.

While I do value my family, I don’t consider TV-viewing a means of socialising with them. I find that watching TV with my parents can be uncomfortable. It’s a personal thing. Let’s just say, Orange is the New Black.

I wanted to know how the greater context of my mother’s society impacted the way she interacted with television.

We talked about the 1970’s. How social and political turbulence affected her interactions. They characterised what she watched, and when she watched them. This was Laos — then a newly-communist state.

“They did not want to show ‘outside’ cultures”

I’m not sure how Spider-Man got away with it, considering he’s some dude from New York.

Programs were strictly limited to Lao and Thai news and entertainment. She recalled: “At first [when the Communist government came to power], there was no international news.” Everything was nation-centric. Notably, “they never showed anything ‘bad’; you would never see news about people dying”.

The Special Broadcasting Service has been serving a reputation of daily international broadcasting to Australia since 1978. (source)

An interesting contrast to today’s channels dedicated to international affairs.

Tied to this method of censorship were the social regulations enforced by the government. Watching television was prohibited in the late evening. People were expected to be ‘lights out’ by around 9pm, or a knock at the door by a patrolling officer would be expected.

This came as a shock to me. My sleepless 1am behaviour would be considered potential political plotting, maybe.

From this conversation with my mother, I didn’t just shame my ignorance by discovering that she did indeed own a television. The depth of the interview revealed greater contextual understanding of the ways she experienced this medium, and how much they truly oppose my own.

References:

Livingstone, S 2009, ‘Half a century of television in the lives of our children’, The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, vol. 625, no. 1, pp. 151-163.

I’m there – you just can’t see me

Like most, I tend to avoid the front of lectures and classrooms.

Something about having a swarm of eyes piercing the back of my head.

The space I’m in affects the way I interact with media. Right now I’m in a library, and I definitely did just check over my shoulder for curious eyes. “Get over it,” my brain says. No one’s looking.

This type of self-consciousness about others following my identity is probably the reason for my apparent absence of activity on social media. Not that my timelines are completely empty; they’re updated just enough for people to know that I’m still alive.

My uncle: “Lisa doesn’t use Facebook very much, does she?”
My mother: “No, she’s always busy studying…”
My reality: *infinitely scrolls news feed*

My social media use is less about sharing my life, and more about consuming the content of others – and no, this isn’t code for ‘Facebook stalking’ (although I am guilty of it). I don’t really follow the lives of the people I know. I follow the Instagrams, Tumblrs and Twitters of strangers because they entertain and inspire me in one way or another. I am more than content with this personal objective of social media use than re-birthing the kind of posts made by 16-year-old me:

I’m sorry, I don’t even know.

I guess my media presence is totally one-sided. When someone or something online serves as a source of inspiration, I’ll use it to build my ‘offline profile’. And that’s okay by me.

Basically.

Nice and Clever Research

Just follow the yellow brick road…

Do:

• Ask for people’s permission before including them in your research
• Objectively portray the subjects of your research
• Be yourself 🙂

Don’t:

• Hack people’s phones
• Depict people as Nazis when they are not Nazis
• Be Rupert Murdoch

Ethics isn’t just about being ‘nice’ to people (although that’s probably how I’d poorly explain it to a kid). In our academic pursuits, we must ensure that we follow moral principles and practices which prevent harm to others, ourselves, and essentially the integrity of our entire work (McCutcheon 2015).

Why we ask for permission

Oh really…

Copyright and personal space. It’s exactly like those pre-menu DVD warnings. *queue police sirens and funky action-themed music*

Like all the assignments we’ve ever submitted – it’s all been the work of our clever brains. Sure, ideas may have been quoted and adapted from others, but we cited our sources in order to let people know that other clever brains have created those ideas.

We also wouldn’t even imagine stealing a text message, I’d hope. You should be applying for a position at WikiLeaks if those are the kinds of tech-savvy skills you have. As recent history has shown, using such skills for personal gain could lead to intervention by authoritative forces and the eventual downfall of our project…and international shame. We won’t tolerate that.

Why we portray everyone and everything objectively

Accuracy (or as close as possible to it) cannot be attained without an unbiased stance. It’s O.K. to have an opinion about the research area, but one objective of academic research is to be objective. Present findings without trying to sway the reader of a particular viewpoint. It might seem funny to photoshop our enemies (what enemies? – we nice people don’t have enemies!) but really, in any professional field, it’s just distasteful.

sigh

Why we should be our nice and clever selves

This does link to research ethics!

In order for the whole thing to work, it would be optimal to have a genuine interest in the project at hand. I think a sincere attitude towards our area of study will assist in practicing honest research, rather than something that feels forced or superficial. It also helps in cooperating effectively with our fellow researchers (as is the case in many university tasks) and also with the people we approach (respondents/interviewees) who are more likely to provide us with authentic data if we show our niceness and cleverness.

In the words of the very final News of the World headline:

Thank you, and goodbye.

References:

McCutcheon, M 2015, ‘Research Ethics’, Lecture Week 3, BCM210: Research Practices in Media and Communication, UOW, 18/03/15.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/craig-aaron/rupert-murdochs-greatest_b_924654.html

http://www.bbc.com/news/uk-11195407

The Magic Media School Bus

Ugh, research. So tedious. So formal. So brain-numbing.

Lies.

Our favourite search engine (need I mention which?) has beared witness to a grand spectrum of research, from the casual query to the existential. Let me show you.

Eh, who hasn’t asked these?

Alright, some understandable curiosity…

…

Oh, humanity. You are full of wonder.

These kinds of questions fall into the category of ‘everyday research’. They’re generally personal, selective, and the answers aren’t sought with much rigour… Unless we delve deeply into scholarly sources (“why does my urine smell”) and remove as much of our beloved subjectivity as our academic selves can.

That’s when the research can become ‘academic’. It’s also when we can bring out our thinking caps, reading glasses, lab coats and clipboards, ‘cause we’re going on an investigative adventure.

Let’s get this party started, children. (source)

A systematic approach is crucial. Academic researchers need to be conscious of their sources and concerned with obtaining as close to the absolute truth as possible (McCutcheon 2015). Otherwise, we risk losing lots of brownie points from our scholarly peers who will then target us in their article reviews.

So, media research. It’s an incredibly diverse and wide-reaching field, so pinpointing a subject area can be difficult. And even when we reach a decision, the angle in which we approach it can be just as diverse as the discipline itself. Brain fart everywhere.

Photojournalism is the area I’ve pinpointed. I am particularly interested in the way that photojournalism has changed through its progression from print to online media. Some questions I have in mind include:

• Can anyone be a photojournalist? (i.e. Are there specific criteria or qualifications?)
• Is online photojournalism oversaturated? (i.e. Does the notion of “Instagram photojournalism” [and other social media] reduce photojournalistic authenticity?)
• How have public responses to photojournalism changed over time? (i.e. Are we more reactive to social media photojournalism now in comparison to, say, photojournalism of the Vietnam War era?)

Now say “photojournalism” three times quickly!

These hypotheses can be thoroughly investigated through a combination of qualitative and quantitative research. This part of the investigative journey is also tricky. Where we gather data (primary or secondary?) and how we analyse it (what is the data telling us?!?) are important considerations which must be relevant to our overall objective. Sometimes, research will require numerical analysis, and other times, it won’t be required at all (McCutcheon 2015). Our methodologies depend on the kind of hypothesis we’re attempting to confirm or disprove and the resources that are available to us.

While the research which attempts to support our individual desires is sometimes tied to “magical thinking” (Berger 2014, p. 19), when we take it up a notch with our scholarly gear (objective thinking cap, long-sighted glasses, etc.), our research can actually become much more substantial.

 

References:

Berger, Arthur A. 2014, ‘What is research?’, in Media and communication research methods: an introduction to qualitative and quantitative approaches, 3rd ed., SAGE, Los Angeles, pp. 13-32.

McCutcheon, M 2015, ‘What is media research?’ powerpoint slides, BCM210, University of Wollongong, viewed 21 March 2015.

Primary vs Secondary Sources n.d., Princeton University, viewed 21 March 2015, <http://www.princeton.edu/~refdesk/primary2.html&gt;.

 

 

Closed Mouth Policy

“If you open the window for fresh air, you have to expect some flies to blow in.”

-Deng Xiaoping, former Chinese revolutionary and statesman

My mother once said to me, “If you open your mouth for fresh air, you have to expect some flies to blow in” (well, something along those lines). [source]

Flies. I can empathise with Xiaoping’s sentiment. The constant buzzing of these things are especially annoying when you’re just trying to stay in control of something.

Let’s put his words into context, though.

These ‘flies’ he speak of aren’t just any old big-eyed, buzzing insects. He’s talking about foreign, ‘Western’ ideologies.

And the window he speaks of is actually a door!

*gasp*

Xiaoping’s words have become somewhat of a proverb for Chinese policy. It’s talking about the potential dangers of external influence; a risk in damaging the established order. The risk was taken through initiatives of “reform and opening up” (MacKinnon, 2008), and thus emerged China’s Open Door policy in the late 1970s (BBC n.d.). This transformation into the Information Age didn’t only impact foreign economic relations. Socially and politically, such reform strategies have broadened the interactive opportunities of ordinary Chinese citizens, particularly via online mediums,  much to authoritative struggle.

This brief historical background is necessary for understanding the context of China’s current censorship policies. The country’s Golden Shield Project – commonly known as the Great Firewall of China – is a censorship and surveillance initiative operated by the Ministry of Public Security (Torfox 2011). Since its emergence in 2000, the virtual system has continued to police civilian access and communication – essentially replicating the state’s single-party regime.

China doesn’t just hold the most people on earth. It’s also host to the world’s largest base of netizens, representing nearly 22% (Internet Live Stats 2014). That’s a staggering portion of users, forcing surveillance methods to become more controlling as the online population increases. Despite this, like most things, there are loopholes.

Let’s have a look at Weibo, one of China’s most popular social networking websites. According to current chairman Charles Chao, the website stands as “one of the freest platforms in China” (Time 2011), even in its compliance with the state’s censorship laws.

Ai Weiwei

In 2005, controversial Chinese artist and activist Ai Weiwei was invited to join Weibo – and he did. Not only that, but for the following four years, Weiwei proceeded to utilise the platform as a means of churning out social and political commentary, including direct criticism of the Chinese government (Ambrozy n.d.). Predictably, his account was forcibly deactivated and his name has since become a banned search term (Custer 2011). What is very interesting to me about this case is that it took four years for his account to be deactivated. Why did authorities take so long? Not to worry though, his words have been archived just for us in Ai Weiwei’s Blog: Writings, Interviews, and Digital Rants 2006-2009 (Ambrozy n.d.), and, he still manages to run a Twitter and Instagram account within China. Loopholes.

When asked about the significance of social media, Weiwei stated, “it’s a tool which creates a new kind of human condition…” (Crampton 2010).

MacKinnon (2008) asserts that the role of mediums like Weibo should not be directly linked to political revolution. Rather, they serve as mediums for political evolution; a tool for change in China. She says that “being a medium should not be confused with being a cause” (p. 31), because the function of blogs are merely to facilitate discussion, rather than creating a government turnover. Ultimately, the real physical change arrives through human mobilisation.

With absolute ease, Chinese authorities could completely shut down all microblogging platforms. But with the world watching, to do so would create further challenges from within and outside the regime.

References:

Ambrozy, L n.d., Ai Weiwei’s Blog, The MIT Press, viewed 15 March 2015, <http://mitpress.mit.edu/books/ai-weiweis-blog&gt;.

BBC n.d., Inside China’s ruling party: Open Door policy, BBC, viewed 15 March 2015, <http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/shared/spl/hi/asia_pac/02/china_party_congress/china_ruling_party/key_people_events/html/open_door_policy.stm&gt;.

Internet Users by Country 2014, Internet Live Stats, viewed 15 March 2015, <http://www.internetlivestats.com/internet-users-by-country/&gt;.

MacKinnon, R 2008, Flatter world and thicker walls? Blogs, censorship and civic discourse in China, Public Choice, pp. 31-46.

pingp 2011, The Great Firewall of China: Background, Torfox, viewed 15 March 2015, <http://cs.stanford.edu/people/eroberts/cs201/projects/2010-11/FreedomOfInformationChina/the-great-firewall-of-china-background/index.html&gt;.

Adam Hills on Australian Accents

Intercultural Communicomplication

Education is an experience unique to each individual. I think international education is especially unique. It’s a highly personal endeavour beyond one’s familiar environment of family, friends and culture, and it can certainly be daunting. Student exchange involves challenges beyond academic pressures: accommodation payments, travel payments, grocery payments and potentially unregulated university fees… Not only is it an expensive investment in education, but a social challenge of intercultural communication. Depending on how well this communication is exchanged, it can have positive or detrimental effects on an individual’s well-being.

‘How English Sounds to Non-English Speakers’
How English Sounds When It’s Mixed With Non-English Words

There is an assumed dominance of the English language as a key to accessing educational opportunities (Singh, Kell & Pandian, 2002). This focus becomes problematic when it ignores the relationship between language and culture. The diverse ways in which English is spoken globally is dependent on the contexts and dialects of the cultures which speak it. For instance, a hybridity of English exist in Australia’s melting pot society: Standard Australian English, Aboriginal English and Ethnocultural Australian English varieties (Macquarie University 2009). A number of studies suggest that many international students are not prepared for the diversity of English within the Australian culture (Kell & Vogl, 2007). The varying accents, paces and colloquialisms of Australian English are not the formal kind which international students may be accustomed to. As an Australian-born student, even I have a hard time with some of Australian slang! It’s important to acknowledge that learning a foreign language is not easy, and to speak it in front of native speakers is often intimidating, particularly considering the generally informal nature of Australian English.

Cultural competence is essential for intercultural communication. It is the ability to effectively interact with those of different cultures and socio-economic backgrounds. Marginson (2012) asserts that cultural competence is a responsibility that shouldn’t be tied solely to the international student, but rather to “all of us” (p. 52), meaning that the hosting society must also hold cultural competence. Without this balance, narrow-minded characterisations of the international student as perhaps weak, inferior and “other” will be maintained as factors of social exclusion. As a response, Marginson proposes a new conception which diverges from parochialism and heads towards an embracing of diverse identities, called international education as self-formation (p. 52).

Self-formation implies that one’s identity is never fixed, but ambiguous and continuously moulded (Marginson, 2012). It must be recognised that education is a way of understanding oneself and the world; a universal mode of self-formation whether undertaken domestically or internationally. There is no room for the binary notion of “us” and “them” when all students are seeking to better themselves through education. For a student living away from home, the challenges of daily living are heightened if one is pressured to ‘assimilate’. Assimilation asks for the adoption of a ‘normalised’ conception of identity that complies with mainstream society. It would be purely insensitive to ask anyone to remove themselves from their native identity. Crossing cultural and geographic borders is courageous enough, but to feel like one must become another character is likely the result of alienation from the host society.

There are ways to reduce ambivalence, distance and disinterest between domestic and international students. Students at the University of Wollongong have organised clubs and societies which serve various purposes. They encourage interaction through common interests, religions and charity services, with the potential to increase intercultural communication and personal well-being if students are willing to take the initiative, regardless of their status.

Edit: Here’s something one should definitely not do in intercultural communication.

References:

australian english defined 2009, Macquarie University Department of Linguistics, viewed 15 August 2014, <http://clas.mq.edu.au/australian-voices/australian-english-defined&gt;.

Kell, P & Vogl, G 2007, ‘International Students: Negotiating life and study in Australia through Australian Englishes’, in Everyday Multiculturalism Conference Proceedings, Macquarie University, 28-29 September 2006.

Marginson, S 2012, ‘Morphing a profit-making business into an intercultural experience: International education as self-formation’, lecture, University of Wollongong, delivered 21 February 2012.

Singh, M, Kell, P & Pandian, A 2002, Appropriating English: Innovation in the Global Business of English Language Teaching, New York.