My Fundamental Rights professor does not know what to do with me. About three weeks into class, he finally walked over and asked if I was one of the students. As I sit in the front row every week, I found this question somewhat surprising. I said I was. He said, “Ahhh” and slowly backed away.
Two weeks after that, he again walked over and asked if I was taking the midterm. I said I was. He said, “Ahhh,” and backed away.
Finally, last week, he asked if I knew how the take-home process worked. I said I had no idea. He walked me through it, apologizing repeatedly for his poor English.
I am still not sure if he knows I am a student like everyone else.
It is funny the way different professors act to having an international student. Some immediately come up and talk to me; others pretend I am no different than anyone else and ignore me. Some go out of their way to explain concepts to me; others occasionally lapse into Thai when trying to explain a concept. Some call me Amy; others refer to me “your international colleague.” Or they avoid calling on me at all.
It is an interesting dynamic and one that has made me vastly more sympathetic for all the international students in the classes I previously attended. I am glad I will have one more year of law school when I get back so I can make more an effort to reach out to them!
Fernweh's Call 