A western professor in Singapore: Cross-cultural readings,expectations,and surprises in the classroom

Introduction

Cher, your Engrish so damn powderful, catch no ball lah.

This is an example of Singlish, a combination of various languages. It is often considered a form of pidgin, or even a language in its own right, and is used primarily in Singapore as well as parts of Malaysia. The sentence is one recalled during this author’s first semester abroad teaching in Singapore. It loosely translates as: ‘Teacher, your English is so powerful that I can’t really understand it’. It was heard in passing, and perhaps uttered jokingly, in one of the student’s assignments for the radio course I taught, because the reality is that students, being the good code switchers that they are, rarely if ever utter Singlish in the classroom – the form is often discouraged from use in academic and professional circles. The issue of language is only one area to which one might give some thought prior to any foray into overseas teaching. Over the years, many have written on this subject – of issues related to the different kinds of English that one finds in the world (Garcia and Otheguy, 1999), including articles expressly on Singapore English (Deterding, 2007; Leimgruber, 2011). Young (2003) has also written specifically about mainland Chinese speakers’ disappointment in discovering that Singaporeans do not speak like Americans. Young’s research ‘recommended that the language teachers in China would do well to take time to clarify precisely what Singapore English is and how Singapore English is different from North American or British English before their students leave for overseas studies’ (p. 32). My first semester’s effort to fit in, combined with an eagerness to learn about the new environment, resulted in the purchase of every local book dealing with the subject of Singlish. In fact, just about every book having anything to do with Singapore, including an encyclopedia volume on the place, became part of my personal library. The books offer much to explore and understand, but when it comes to the practical speaking of Singlish there is no getting around the fact of my being an Ang Mo (literally meaning ‘red hair’, but euphemistically used to mean any Western foreigner). It must look and sound rather silly when this Ang Mo attempts to speak Singlish. Fortunately or unfortunately, it comes in handy on occasion, especially with taxi drivers, giving one a slightly better chance of actually getting to where one is going. And in such cases, there is usually no one else around to hear these pitiable attempts at Singlish.

Baskerville (2009) described the process of becoming more in tune with cultural divergence in a New Zealand classroom, while MacLennan (2002) led readers through a narrative of discovery in Puerto Rico. Though there are certainly numerous articles that deal with global education in general and education in Singapore specifically, few exist from the perspective of a former radio announcer turned professor, who after his first posting following graduate school took a job teaching in Singapore. And so that perspective is my calling card and entrée into the world of academic cross-cultural teaching and its literature. In this article, I recount some highlights of my journey, along with the assorted literature that helped me at various points along the way. The article is intended as a review of literature through experiences, coupled with the aim of sparking research ideas and interests in these areas.

Education moving abroad

The waves of globalization are splashing upon the shores of higher education, as more institutions and educators start seeing possibilities abroad. This game is playing out as observers expend great effort to keep up with all of the changes and what they mean to each player, from students and lecturers to universities and countries. Sometimes the name of the game is known by other titles, such as internationalization. We are all trying to understand the various elements of globalization (or internationalization) specifically as they relate to higher education. Closely related concepts are also thrown into the mix such as multiculturalism, interculturalism (Bredella, 2003), cross-border pedagogy (Clifford, 2005), and so on. And even before we fully understand what is going on, or have an established international framework (Birtwistle, 2006; McBurnie and Ziguras, 2001), schools in various countries have already started exporting their educational services and brands (Healy, 2008) while at the same time encouraging international student matriculation to their home campuses (Verbik and Lasanowski, 2007) and handling the challenges (Green, 2002) and opportunities associated with all of this (Peterson et al., 1999). The United States, United Kingdom, and Australia are three countries that come to mind immediately as net exporters of educational brands (Johnes, 2004; Larsen et al., 2002). In Doha, Qatar (where an earlier version of this article was presented at a conference), the exporting is most apparent when one considers Education City, a campus featuring external branches of several foreign universities (Brancaccio, 2008). Iskandar Malaysia is also opening an ‘Educity’, a collaboration involving some eight international universities. New York University now has branches in Abu Dhabi and Shanghai (Lewin, 2008). In Singapore, one cannot miss advertisements for university brands in the newspapers, on the sides of buses, and in the advertising spaces on subway trains. The Tisch School of the Arts (now closing), SUNY Buffalo at SIM University (UniSIM), RMIT at MDIS (Management Development Institute of Singapore), and the more controversial Yale at the National University of Singapore (NUS) are among the many institutions advertising their Singapore-based programs. One of the first advertisements (on the side of a public bus) that caught my attention was Oklahoma City University, offering a communications degree program in Singapore. In the wider United States, truth be told, one might not be entirely aware of this school’s communications program, but in Singapore it surely receives greater attention.

At the same time, numerous consumer brands have also attempted to make the global transition. Carls Jr. and the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf are among those still in operation, Carrefour having recently closed its Singapore branches. A caveat is appropriate here: international education is not my degree field, nor is inter-cultural communication or business. Yet, in choosing to move from New York to Singapore, there has certainly been a real world education in these fields. One might be tempted to think that institutions with recognized reputations in a specific educational field would be the ones to export and maintain their well-known programs abroad, much like the global brands and businesses that have found success. In the long run that may still prove to be the case for successful endeavors, but for now the market imperative of being first, or one of the first, may be the stronger force. What we know in instructional communication tends to revolve around our home country’s experience, but we need to become more aware of the world experience as the educational field, indeed many fields, move(s) in the global direction. It is this reality that has prompted the present article, a lecturer’s experiences and attempts to navigate the waters of education’s globalized voyage.

In preparing to move abroad to teach, one would likely endeavor to learn as much as possible about the new locale before the move. The Internet has become a huge asset in such searches, no doubt. Specifically, this author wished to learn about the area of mass communications and about Singapore electronic media. The Singapore media marketplace is not well known outside of this little red dot of a country (an affectionate term used by locals to describe their place on a world map), with the exception of some occasional stories on press freedom and its curtailment. Several years ago though, Internet radio was taking off and a handful of Singapore radio stations could be found online. It turned out that a future colleague had written a book on the subject of media in Southeast (SE) Asia. The book was a valuable find, though it cost nearly a hundred dollars with shipping to New York. Upon arriving in Singapore, it was promptly discovered that the book was more widely available for around US$15. In addition to listening to the radio stations (when they were on – oddly many signed off the air at night, which was of course daytime in New York), this author did a lot of reading about Singapore, online, at the local bookstores – including Border’s (notably, Singapore was its first Asian location, since closed and then reopened), and in the library, but truthfully little of it provided the essential preparation for what awaited.

Having studied abroad in high school and college, there was a faint hope that these experiences would help in the transition to lecturing abroad. Studying a foreign language, as well as living with and befriending international students, could also be expected to help somewhat. These experiences however provided only minor training for an Asian excursion. On reflection, it would have been beneficial to read Sanderson’s (2006) profile of the ideal international lecturer. Teaching at a few schools turned out to be the best experience – interacting with a diverse student body is a key factor in preparing for the overseas classroom. Things were not vastly different between my teaching approaches in the United States and those in Singapore, though there were plenty of differences in the systems of the two countries and their universities. Both countries have traditional classroom setups. Both have a teacher’s desk in the front of the room, and smaller tables and chairs for the students (though with new ‘smart’ classrooms and a newsplex, my Singapore experience became slightly different in this regard). But, there were subtle differences that do not appear at first to the foreign teacher and that must be learned over time. In this last sentence was included the word learned. In the United States, that is the common past tense of the verb to learn. In Singapore, a former British colony, it is much more common to see the word written as learnt. Every so often, I have needed to knock on my British colleague’s door across the hall to get a dose of the Queen’s English and ask a few questions. It has been said that Britain and America are two countries divided by a common language – but this is not England. Or is it? The sports section of every newspaper features highlights from the English Premier League, and the difference in the naming of sports (gridiron, soccer, football) is always a good conversation starter around these parts. As former British colonies, my home country and Singapore are in the same category, or at least similar. The main difference in the United States is that anything British is either seen as British or has simply been absorbed indistinguishably into American culture. In Singapore, what is British has fairly much stayed that way. So when founding father Lee Kuan Yew suggested in 2011 that American English should be the preferred accent (over British), a good laugh was had at my British colleague’s expense, to say nothing of that of our Australian colleagues.

Creating ‘rojak’ universities

Singapore is a global city no doubt, though it does not always embrace the ethos associated with such a distinction. The universities, however, clearly reflect the international nature of the place. On my office floor alone, there are colleagues from no fewer than eight different countries. This is in and of itself one of the great attributes of the school. It is argued that travel and education are both good for defeating complacency and bigotry. Students here are exposed not only to the various pedagogies that each instructor may bring to a classroom, but just as importantly, they get the vital experiences translated from elsewhere that help illuminate ideas and provide a worldly perspective. It may sound clichéd, but this model is very likely the wave of the future for all universities: expand the global contingent of faculty, export the programs in which the school excels, start online divisions to reach many more publics, and continue to support study and work-abroad programs. In this regard, Singapore is arguably leading the way. At a conference 2 years ago in Kuala Lumpur, I asked a faculty member, from a country which shall remain nameless, to describe the make-up of his school; the majority were from the home country – he knew of only one international faculty member working in the school. This is difficult to fathom, arguably more so outside of the United States, yet it is still a reality in many schools. On a daily basis in Singapore there is interaction with people from different races and nationalities; working with an international staff has organically broadened my perspectives on a number of subjects. In terms of the various influences, Singaporeans sometimes refer to this as the ‘rojak’ nature of their culture. Rojak is a local culinary dish that is comprised of many different ingredients. The term sometimes can be taken to mean ‘messy’, but affectionately it can also mean ‘diverse’. Having a rojak university is good and just may be the best thing for all of our future schools.

The benefits of having an international faculty should be clear, though sometimes not always for every student. Occasionally, a student from the United States or Canada would be enrolled in one of my classes in Singapore. This experience, arising from the globalized education market, might be compared to traveling to Italy for the first time, only to have dinner at McDonalds. Maybe teaching should not be compared to the golden arches, but others have of course used the arches to describe the effects of globalization (Ritzer, 1993, for instance). Altbach (2004) cautions us to not conflate the concepts of internationalization and globalization, and on this note we accept that concepts can often benefit from clear operationalization. Nevertheless, the number of English-speaking educational programs is likely to rise, as English increases its position as a global second language, and as more countries around the globe recognize the importance of, and gain the ability to improve, their educational landscapes.

There are various phrases known around the world that allude to the idea that we are essentially all the same: everywhere water boils the same; everywhere people put pants on one leg at a time, and so on. And while one researcher might admonish us not to read too much into differences – that we are more alike than different – to focus on this alone is to invite false perceptions. Scheuch (1968, 1993) discussed inter-cultural survey construction, and suggested that when differences amount to only a few percentage points on a data printout ‘[t]o interpret these differences in terms of cultural characteristics requires that these inter-country differences are both real and persistent’ (De Vaus, 2008: 258). Others might remind us that we should pay heed to cultural differences; ‘no two national groups see the world in exactly the same way’ (Adler, 1986: 3). Dolnicar and Grün (2007), meanwhile, inform us that marketing and advertising must take note of cultural differences in the backgrounds of respondents. This recalls a story from the advertising field concerning Gerber baby foods and African markets. In the United States, the company has a well-known logo which is found on each bottle of baby food. In African nations, a photograph of the food inside the jar is commonly placed on the label so people can instantly see what they are purchasing (especially important if consumer language literacy is low). As Blakeman (2011) noted, ‘the cute little Gerber baby logo featured on every jar of food implied that each jar contained a concoction made of baby parts’ (p. 14). There are many studies relating to cross-cultural products, advertising, and consumer behavior (Crotts and Erdmann, 2000; Kim et al., 2002; Luna and Gupta, 2001; Singhapakdi et al., 1994; Zhang and Neelankavil, 1997). There is also a field of study that examines the perceptions that consumers have, based on where a product is made; such country of origin studies examine consumer perception of products (Häub, 1996). It would seem that this model might also apply to the exportation of educational ‘products’, again as some schools are more successful than others in starting and maintaining branches abroad (Hemsley-Brown and Oplatka, 2006). Still others have written about general problems in cross-cultural matters, with much of this literature emerging from Western perspectives in the areas of business, management, and business education (Ahmed et al., 2003; Douglas and Weir, 2005; Johnson et al., 2006; Limaye and Victor, 1991; Phau and Kea, 2007; Sizoo and Serrie, 2004).

The area of international business ethics also appears in searches on globalization and cross-cultural concerns (Beekun et al., 2003; Sims, 2007). One business-related cross-cultural article deals with a comparison between the United States and Singapore (Slaughter and Ang, 1995), two countries of interest to me – one my origin and one my destination. The field of business education, perhaps more so than any other (apart from those that have the term international in their heading), already recognizes the value in international networking. In this regard, and considering global climate change, may we hope that ethics and the topic of ‘corporate social responsibility’ will gain emphasis in our teaching and research? Burton et al. (2000), for instance, examined differences in perceptions of the concept of social responsibility between Hong Kong and US business students. The research found similarities in feelings toward the term, with slight differences ‘found in the types of responsibilities considered most important’ (p. 151). This is a growing field awaiting more research and optimistically more cross-cultural perspective and input.

The cross-cultural studies lens has been employed to examine wide-ranging topics from arts (Eisner, 1979), and religious perceptions (Chia and Jih, 1994), to the training of lawyers in the sensitivities of cross-cultural cases (Bryant, 2001; Tremblay, 2002), to explaining the global acceptance of products (Yeniyurt and Townsend, 2003), to addressing cross-cultural conceptual frameworks for educational administration (Dimmock and Walker, 1998). The medical field is also investigating the issues surrounding cultural differences, as medical tourism is now a thing of the present (Shapiro et al., 2006). Kunstadter (1980) opened up research into cross-cultural medical ethics. Even the area of human sexuality has long received cross-cultural attention: ‘Results indicate that societies are neither entirely consistent nor entirely arbitrary in their patterning of heterosexual relationships’ (Broude, 1983: 154; Davis and Whitten, 1987), as has raising babies (Werner, 1988), identifying lullabies (Unyk et al., 1992), perceptions of ‘third culture kids’ (Fail et al., 2004), and international perspectives on parenting in general (Ambert, 1994; Javo et al., 2004). A pressing issue for Singapore in the years ahead is that of how families and the nation will deal with an aging population. How nations differ when it comes to care of the elderly is another area receiving much attention (Loekenhoff et al., 2009). For educational expatriates abroad, issues surrounding family and aging parents are often of concern. And death itself is subject to cross-cultural examination (Palgi and Abramovitch, 1984), as is bereavement (Eisenbruch, 1984).

Cross-cultural studies concerning international students are also topical, as schools in many countries seek to attract international students and to better understand their goals, perceptions, and adaptations involved with this endeavor (Baty and Dold, 1977; Volet and Renshaw, 1995). Lewthwaite (1996) found that for students studying abroad in New Zealand, ‘[t]he greatest block to adaptation was lack of intercultural communicative competence’ (p. 167). McClure (2007) wrote of graduate students’ experiences upon arriving in Singapore that the ‘adjustment for students was most difficult in the first 6 to 12 months from entry into the new cultural context, largely due to the influence of previous educational and cultural experiences on expectations’ (p. 199). Franken (2012) utilized a ‘transition or “resituation” perspective’ to determine international students’ ability to conduct research abroad, while Swagler and Ellis (2003) interviewed Taiwanese students studying in the United States (a paper found and read while this author started a research fellowship in Taiwan – once again not exactly looking before leaping into another culture). They reported that ‘Taiwanese students identified being independent as important to their functioning in the United States’ (p. 420), a finding which was not true for me in Taiwan, where my dependence on students able to translate Chinese characters was only slightly embarrassing and often meant the difference between eating what I wanted or (using my limited Mandarin) not being able to order anything close to it. The subject of how Asian students fare while studying abroad both in Australia and the United States has received ample attention. How do Asian students adapt to life and study in these countries? Ramburuth and McCormick (2001) reported that no statistically significant differences were found between Asian international and Australian students in their overall ‘approaches to learning’ (p. 333). However, Asian international students demonstrated significantly higher use of deep motivation, surface strategies, and achieving strategies, while Australian students demonstrated a ‘higher use of deep strategies and surface motivation’ (p. 333).

There are also studies examining differences in language use and behavior, as in the case of Yu’s (2003) study which examined something of relevance in my teaching position in Singapore – the universality of face. Briefly stated, ‘face’ finds its closest Western equivalent perhaps in the concepts of reputation and credibility (Ho, 1979), mixed in with cultural expectations. The film industry is replete with stories exploiting and exploring cultural differences and stereotypes. For the concept of face, the 2004 comedy film ‘Saving Face’, directed and written by Alice Wu, is particularly pertinent. Saving face, holding face, lending face are all concepts that go beyond the scope of this article, but the literature (and films) helped in my own understanding and in keeping me from losing ‘face’, though not always totally successfully.

The teacher’s perspective

From the teacher’s perspective, a number of studies have broached the cross-cultural divide from differing angles. Reynolds (1995), for instance, wrote about the pragmatics of inter-cultural (mis-)communication, while Stening (1979) earlier reviewed the literature quite expertly in discussing the problems with cross-cultural contact. These studies have considerable relevance to the Singapore situation. In a country with four official languages, one can easily imagine why this is the case, as the apparently simple task of ordering lunch is not always as simple as it might seem. Knowing a language and having communicative competence are not the same (Hymes, 1992). Herron and colleagues have a series of studies that investigate the use of instructional video in teaching about foreign cultures, including those aspects we equate with ‘little c’ culture which they describe as ‘practices’, and those equated to ‘big C’ culture which they relate to ‘products’. Their ‘(f)indings supported using video to teach culture’ (Herron et al., 1999: 518). Others have similarly noted differences between low context and high context cultures (Kim et al., 1998); Singapore is a high context culture. Quezada (2004) has an interesting article investigating the ‘lessons learned while student teaching abroad’ (p. 458), which provides factors for education departments to consider before sending candidates abroad to teach. The ‘knowledge, skills and dispositions’ (p. 458) that university students should have undoubtedly also map well to those needed by the potential expatriate professor. Stone’s (2006) publication examining ‘intercultural effectiveness’ offered practical strategies for ‘improving international and intercultural dimensions’ (p. 334) in teaching, while Yang (2008) highlighted ‘cultural diversity and learning styles’ (p. 1564) in discussing a cross-cultural language-teaching experience. Rawwas et al. (2004) meanwhile offer an astute comparison of beliefs and values in revealing the issue of academic dishonesty between United States and Chinese marketing students.

Finally, considering the increasing role that technology is playing in the field of education, there is a growing body of literature dealing with computers and computer-mediated communication across the cultures, with Internet interactions a leading focus of many researchers (McLoughlin, 2001). Some have investigated the use of technology in relationships (Yum and Hara, 2005), or education (Hannon and D’Netto, 2007), while others investigate various cross-cultural perspectives and attitudes related to computers and the Internet (Li et al., 2001). Rosen and Weil (1995) ‘compared the construct of computer anxiety in university students across ten countries’ (p. 45), while Yum and Hara (2005) looked at Internet relationship development ‘in three different cultures: Korea, Japan, and the United States’ (p. 133), with results suggesting ‘some cross-cultural differences and similarities in the associations between self-disclosure and relationship qualities’ (p. 133). Abrams (2002) meanwhile found that Internet-based learning ‘promoted learners’ acquisition of new cultures’ (p. 141). Mehra and Papajohn (2007) examined the Internet usage behaviors of international teaching assistants ‘to better understand how international people use the Internet in the present-day cross-cultural context of interaction’ (p. 12). Others have looked at the cultural content of websites (Singh et al., 2005). More studies are clearly needed which investigate the process of distance learning with professors and students from different geographies and cultural backgrounds.

Is teaching just teaching? Is it the same around the world? LeTendre et al. (2001) might seem to agree, suggesting that ‘core teaching practices and teacher beliefs show little national variation’ (p. 3). It should also be acknowledged that copious amounts of research suggest there are indeed differences worth noting. LeTendre and colleagues note in the same paper that ‘other aspects of teachers’ work (e.g. non-instructional duties) do show variation’ (p. 3). As a US mass communications graduate, not of a teacher’s college, this author was unaware of most of the literature prior to embarking on research for a paper in a cultural context (Taiwan while on fellowship) distinct from both my own and the one in which I was teaching (Singapore for several years). This creates complications not entirely foreseen in the US graduate classroom, as it raises issues regarding geography and ethnocentrism, and preferred readings of research texts. And here is a point: the number of global English-speaking teaching and research opportunities is growing, in many fields, and many are being taken up by educators who may or may not be versed in the nuances of the locales to which they will be moving. How much can or should be transplanted as opposed to naturally grown? Similar to US media products enjoying world attention, the US model of education, highly regarded though competing with the British and Australian models in this respect, is also gaining a heavier footprint around the world as more educators take teaching and administrative positions abroad. For instance, the number of US university-trained (national and international) graduates in the field of mass communications who look abroad after graduating is also growing. Though US media content creators might not always be sensitive to the global audience, eventually and ideally, those of us who place ourselves in these international education situations must ask ourselves: Are we engaging in culturally responsive (and responsible) teaching?

Differences are of course not just based on the geography of the situation. There are many other issues; dress codes, for example, may also come into play. At my first teaching post, long-sleeved shirts and ties were customary. As a young and recent graduate, the dressed-up look was a way to differentiate oneself from the student body. In graduate school, ties were rarely worn, but at my first teaching position following graduate school, the tie collection grew. In Singapore, it rarely sees the light of day. Befitting the tropical climate, business casual or even smart casual is the preferred dress code. Shirts may be kept out and not tucked in, which may even be preferred in formal situations in Malaysia. Studies on fashion in a cross-cultural context exist, but none, it would seem, for the fashionable academic. A few studies though have discussed ‘factors associated with adjustment to a new culture, and characteristics of successful teachers’ (Masgoret et al., 2000: 548), as well as more general cross-cultural perspectives on dress (Hamilton and Hamilton, 1989). And before one takes all of these cross-cultural studies to heart, one must first be aware that one’s own perspectives may be clouding how one reads and understands what has been written (Dimmock, 2002). Speaking a few languages appears to help, as Masgoret et al. (2000) noted, interpreting ‘a multiple regression analysis [which] showed that teaching performance was predicted significantly by the number of languages spoken’ (p. 548), though this was not entirely beneficial for me as my second language was German, rather than Mandarin, the preferred second language in Singapore.

Classroom observations

Some basic observations are warranted at this point about some of the differences encountered in my first few semesters of teaching in SE Asia. Caution needs to be exercised of course in making generalizations. For example, the Singaporean students have been by and large ‘better’ (e.g. scholastically, academically) than their American counterparts. This statement requires qualification: the more data points that exist of course, the greater the possibility of supporting one’s claims and/or predicting a particular outcome. One caveat is that the school in Singapore is arguably more selective and difficult to get into than the US schools with which I have experience (save my own graduate school) and upon which the comparison is being made. The educational marketplace plays some role here and society an even larger one. It was common, for instance, for parents of Singaporean students on ‘open house day’ to inquire first as to the salary potential for graduates of a specific discipline. From a very young age, the educational system has groomed and pre-screened students for potential future careers based on their developing academic performance. Coupled with the fact that the country is also a city, one city, and the importance of each person finding the right place, then where they should be, where they can be, and doing one’s best from early on is particularly compelling. In this sense, as professors we are playing a continuing role in this elongated screening process, arguably supporting the functioning of society in a more direct sense. This may also be true in other countries, but the importance of ‘getting it right’ (that is to say accurately assessing each and every student on their capabilities) seemed more pronounced in my Singapore experience.

In Singapore, I primarily taught two main courses each semester, Radio Practicum and Audio in Media. The Audio in Media course was developed by combining aspects of two previous courses that were later phased out of the curriculum. These classes were simply called Radio 1 and Radio 2. In developing the new course, material was also borrowed from a similar course taught by a colleague at Syracuse University. Each semester, around 50 to 80 students enrolled in these two courses combined. So in 7 years, this would amount to about 700 students. In that time, and in my estimation (with a limited sample), the students in Singapore – as compared with American students in my experience – have tended to be more serious about their education, more attentive to lectures and note-taking, less prone to distraction, and more introspective and detailed in their writings. On the negative side, and this is to some extent a subjective viewpoint, they tended to be more quiet and reticent to ask questions. There has been much research in this area, but in my experience in comparison to US students, they are less likely to raise their hands (Chalmers and Volet, 1997). In the past 6 years, there has been a noticeable change in this culture in my school – for better or worse – and this may result from two factors. It may simply be personal perception; as I have become more comfortable in the environment, and better known to the students, it may be that they have generally felt more positive about the likely outcome of asking a question. It is also possible that, because the students are being taught by an international team of scholars who share the notion that questioning can be a productive thing (increasingly encouraging it), over time the school’s culture (and perhaps society as well) may be naturally shifting in this direction. There has been a tendency toward greater use of personal technology by the students in the classroom, and this may detract from their participation and learning. Some favor the use of blocking devices to prevent students’ personal communication devices from connecting to the outside-the-classroom world. Others see such action as unreasonably intrusive. Clearly a balance needs to be struck.

In another area, it has been argued that US students tend to be more ‘creative’ in how they respond to assignments and projects. There is a growing amount of literature in this area, and it is certainly one that is prone to contention. How do we define creative? To some extent this may result from the ‘screening process’ used in Singapore and mentioned earlier. American students can be said to have greater choice in the selection of their major subject for study. It could be argued that this might affect the approach the students take to class work. In every American class, usually three or four students (out of around 30) would clearly stand out as exceptional students. In my experience, Singaporean students, by and large, are good students – the assessment holds true for the group. One is less likely, I have found, to encounter a small number of exceptional (or of poorly performing) students in each class (even given the kiasu mentality of the culture – of striving to be first). The notion of ‘kiasu-ness’ is pervasive in Singapore, whether queuing for a popular plate of chicken rice, or waiting to board a public bus. The students grow up in this setting, and overall it is likely to influence them. They are above the average to which I was previously accustomed. It has also been more difficult to find student volunteers. In most cases, before an individual will volunteer, there must be a direct benefit, or the task must be assigned a grade value. In the United States, there seemed to be a greater eagerness to do extra things that would lead to more enriching experiences. Essentially, the Singapore students have been taught since a young age that academic success will allow them to succeed in life – and that they are, in a way, competing to gain a certain place in society. This ethos comes from living in a country which recognizes that it must be ‘better’ in order to compete against larger countries in the world. The evidence here is anecdotal but interesting. There are certainly plenty of areas for future empirical educational research.

Much has been written about how students are assessed, but we as educators are also subject to the observant and sometimes critical eye of the students. Feedback on teaching is increasingly commonplace and student evaluations are part of many education systems. Sometimes the instructor can select which courses will be evaluated, whereas at other times it is all of them. Teaching evaluations also come under some cross-cultural scrutiny (Walker and Dimmock, 2000; Watkins, 1994). The inter-cultural or cross-cultural component of teaching is another dimension to be considered when reflecting on student evaluation.

On the issue of how my teaching has been affected by the move to a new country and culture, the truth is that I was not fully prepared for what awaited me in Singapore. I tried to read up on radio history in Asia, and asked a lot of questions, but it took a while for this new information to sink in. Thinking back on my first year teaching abroad, I remember saying ‘well in the States it’s like this’ or making a reference that the students were unlikely to fully comprehend. As I began writing more on the subjects that interested me and from an American in SE Asian perspective, I began to incorporate more of what I was learning in to my classes. It was refreshing to incorporate material from this different perspective into my teaching.

In terms of teaching techniques, I would not say that my approach has changed much. Research supports my anecdotal experience (LeTendre et al., 2001). The tools of the teaching trade can be relevant in different contexts, with different techniques depending on the subject matter. I even use group projects, although that was not popular with students in my first year or two. [Research about Asian students and group work has been undertaken by, for instance, Li and Campbell (2008).] I recall a student asking, after one of my first group work assignments, just how a group should function and if I could provide any tips. I created a quick lecture for the following class, with handouts, detailing some of the best tips I could reference. The students have since become accustomed to it, and information is passed along from cohort to cohort. Students have also become accustomed to the use of online teaching tools, which has increased tremendously over the years. The school where I taught installed several ‘smart’ classrooms (designed around technology and collaboration), and also had a mandatory e-learning week. The e-learning week was started out of a practical concern as to how we would cope with any type of emergency situation. Specifically, it was prompted by the outbreak of severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS) in the early 2000s. Similar to other schools, we used an online portal for communicating with the students. Increasingly too, as students become accustomed to the use of, for instance, Twitter and Facebook in their personal lives, educators are under increasing pressure to provide more instant communication and feedback.

Conclusion

For me the most rewarding part of teaching abroad has been developing and gaining new perspectives. On numerous occasions, I now read a journal article only to find myself wanting to inject the words ‘in the U.S. experience or context’ after every few sentences. So much US-generated writing assumes that all readers are familiar with the US-centric references, without providing any word of context for an international reader. And this gives rise to a question that I half-jokingly asked a US colleague of mine shortly after arrival in Asia: ‘At what point do we lose our connection to the U.S. and the right to say we are fully American?’ To carry it further, when do we as citizens of one country lose our cultural references, and automatically stop using the idioms and common expressions that we grew up with? This is a question those of us who teach abroad will likely continue to ask as long as we work outside our home countries.