PUBLISHED: Student & Campus Section, Manila Bulletin, 14 January 2009 Issue (Page E-4)
How immersed do you really get in an immersion program?
Some time ago, a upperclassman posted on Facebook an account of her immersion experience. It was quite controversial for a while because it was how the experience should feel. It was certainly antithetical to what most reflection papers would contain.
In other words, it was brutally honest.
She mercilessly complained about the dirt, the food, the lack of electricity or a proper toilet, and even the naked children. Eventually she concluded that she was, in her own words, “NOT immersed,” and ended by asking for hugs.
Students, bloggers, and even English teachers had a fiesta over it.
She was criticized for failing to see the light. Most were all too eager to point out how insensitive, elitist, and condescending she was. Worst of all, they add, she was studying in a Catholic university that prides itself in instilling a sense of compassion in its students. And they are probably right, so I won’t add to the litany of voices who say that she is disgraceful for feeling the way she does.
But I do want to see where things went wrong.
Having studied in a Catholic private school for most of my life, I’ve been through a number of outreaches. Some of them genuinely affected me. They instilled in me a sense of gratitude and sensitivity to the needs of the less fortunate.
But if I were to be honest with myself—not all of them did.
Some trips, I barely even remember. And if I do, I do not remember them fondly. I’m sure that everyone who has gone through a couple of immersion programs has felt the same way, and I believe I understand why.
Whether or not an immersion affects you will depend mostly on your disposition.
That is probably why Catholic private schools spend so much time priming their students to be more open-minded before going through an (oftentimes required) immersion. Often, this sense of openness is linked to a sense of social responsibility: being more privileged, we have a duty to give back to the less fortunate. Since most private-school kids come from higher-middle to upper-class households, this is probably necessary. The hope is that the student will learn something of value after the experience.
Now, reflection papers will tell you that this always works, since anyone who cares about his or her Religion grade can write a tear-jerker. But if we were to be honest with ourselves, we would know that the indoctrination of values, or brainwashing if you prefer, stops at some point.
What makes the difference is the kind of environment you live in.
That is why you cannot really blame the said person for feeling the way she did. She comes from an affluent background. In the first place, her parents were against the idea of her going to the mountains. When she got back, they were shocked at her condition. Not to mention she had a full body massage afterwards. It might be sickening, but she was just being honest, and people who criticize for being this way might just be a little out of line.
What her situation really points to is a gap, an enormous one that requires exceedingly drastic social changes in order to bridge. It is almost unreasonable to expect a person who has lived in a world of affluence all her life to be able to relate. This is perhaps best illustrated by the name of a group I once joined: “I’ve never met a poor libertarian. Have you?”
Certainly, she’s an extreme example, and not all of us encounter people like her on a regular basis. Or maybe we just don’t see them because not all of them tried to publish their post-immersion sentiments like she did. Nonetheless, I think there’s a bit of her in each of us. Everyone I know has gotten some sort of epiphany after being exposed to poverty. But isn’t it true that after every epiphany comes a sense of gratitude—that you’re not like that?
We all just need to be a bit honest with ourselves.
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