‘Lifting the shell’: expressions of emotion and cross-cultural struggle in international students

A distraught face looked back at me as I opened the door. ‘I’ve lost my knitting!’ Forty-five minutes late for our meeting together, my Chinese friend looked incredibly upset. Linda had been meeting up with one of our volunteer team to learn how to knit, and a few East Asian students had joined in. The students would go away and practice, sometimes drawing in the expertise of their host families to help out. It connected cultures naturally, and significant conversations developed. What I learnt later was that they had been learning how to knit a baby's jumper. Linda said to me that she didn’t feel ready to have a child yet, but as they had learnt how to knit they had discussed their hopes for the future when they would return home, and all the students expressed a desire to start a family. Out of these discussions Linda had decided to knit a baby jumper and it was this little jumper – nearly finished – that she had lost.

Days earlier Linda had been asked about her future hopes in a volunteer team meeting. Linda hadn’t read the expressions in the faces of the group as they prepared to respond, despite the fact that Linda knew each member of the group well, and had spent a lot of time with them over the year. Her response had been lighthearted. However, in the knitting group, gathered around a communal, creative activity, with people from a similar cultural background, she was better able to read the expressions of those around her and make a connection with her own vulnerabilities and desires. This led to her being able to express herself more openly.

Meanwhile, back at the lost jumper. After an exhaustive search and much prayer on her part, the knitting wasn’t found. Linda had to deal with the disappointment of losing something precious to her; something that she had formed over weeks and months, that she had put much work and heart into. She wrestled through the experience of ‘prayers unanswered’, along with a nagging fear that it somehow even symbolised a possible end to her future hopes for a family back home.

These questions of ‘return’ for international students are very significant struggles: once hopes and ambitions of studying in the UK have been achieved, what do students return home to? It can lead to nervous and even superstitious feelings about the future projected into present reality.

This example from my work illustrates one of the reasons for the focus of this article: that of communicating and understanding emotions across cultural spectra. International students, by the very nature of crossing cultural boundaries and stepping well out of their comfort zones, are perhaps most likely to face feeling low because of the strains of cross-cultural adaptation. This has been defined as ‘culture shock’ or ‘culture stress’. Merriam-Webster's dictionary defines culture shock as ‘a feeling of confusion, doubt, or nervousness caused by being in a place (such as a foreign country) that is very different from what you are used to’.

http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/culture%20shock.

The complicated nature of depression and diagnosis thereof has been covered extensively by many authors and practitioners. It is a contentious topic and there are many opinions and theories about its diagnosis and treatment.

Indeed, Blazer challenges the notion that depression is simply to be viewed as an individualised, medicalised disease and points to a wider, sociological dimension to research about depression. Blazer 2005, pp. 6–8.

While the focus of this article is not on depression, it has been helpful to look into research about it in order to gain greater clarity about expressions of depression in different cultures, but also to see how culture stress could perhaps be misconstrued as depression. I have also looked into material covering different communication styles, wondering whether there is a connection between a cultural style of communication and a more cultural response to struggle and depression. The World Health Organization estimates that 350 million people are affected by depression worldwide,

www.who.int/topics/depression/en.

This heightened awareness of depression among the medical profession is helpful for the millions of sufferers who need to be heard and treated appropriately. In my own work I have seen how culture stress has led to depression, and it is important that those ministering to international students are aware of this reality and know how to enable students to seek help where necessary. However, culture stress and indeed depression may look different, depending on each culture, and support may be more usefully received in a variety of ways.

Christodoulou 2012, p. 14.

This article, therefore, comes out of a desire to look more deeply at experiences of struggle that many international students face and express when they come to study in the UK – or indeed with reverse culture shock when they return back home.

Returning home and experiencing reverse culture shock can sometimes affect international students even more than the initial culture shock on arrival in the UK. Butcher 2002, p. 361.

A body of research exists that shows that humans around the world hold various emotions in common with one another – amusement, anger, fear and sadness.

Nauert 2015; SparkNotes Editors 2005; Altarriba, Basnight and Canary 2003.

Bond quotes a Chinese adage, that ‘problems within the family should not be discussed outside the family’,

Bond 1991, p. 91.

Of course, within the same culture, an individual will express his or her emotions differently, going through a struggle process at a different pace from another, or perhaps getting stuck in one particular ‘phase’, while others move on quickly and seemingly without as much pain.

Butcher 2002, p. 356.

In the story of any international student coming to study in the UK, there will be a variety of main characters: the international student herself/himself, the institution that the student is studying in, and people that the student comes into contact with. However, there also exists a far more important layer, one which is almost entirely invisible to people whom they meet: that of their home culture and background. This is made up of language, family, friends, food, weather, temperament, unspoken ‘norms’ and subconscious reactions to social cues. Couple this with the new social norms, pedagogy, academic standards and expectations of the academic institution that they have arrived to study in and a more complicated picture emerges. This process of cultural acclimatisation fits into the ‘adaptive’ model Christodolou wrote about,

Christodoulou 2012, p. 14.

I am mindful that I also come with my own background: representing the organisation that I work for, my own culture that I grew up in, my own family situation and the experiences that I go through each day. Part of the training that I go through is to be more aware of my own responses and the responses of those around me, having time to understand the students and thinking through their needs, as well as recognising my own. David Augsberger, an Anabaptist minister, who specialises in pastoral care across cultures and with people in conflict, describes this process of observation as having a ‘bidirectional strength’ – being able to see ourselves and to see others as we and they are.

Augsberger 1986, p. 30.

The intentionality of learning and observation is perhaps all the harder to undertake in the twenty-first century, where developed countries have access to speedy travel and ever-increasing sophistication in technology. It has particular relevance for the – increasingly – affluent international students studying in the UK, because a few hours of air travel leaves little time to reflect on the upcoming arrival in a new place. Technology enables cultural ‘norms’ of a host culture to be analysed from afar, along with ready communication with loved ones back home. However, the same technology can also provide escapism back to a previous life and it may switch people off to engaging with one another by ‘timing out’ into gadgets. These challenges illustrate further that those who listen to stories and engage in ‘shell lifting’ cannot operate in a vacuum.

Lartey 2003, pp. 40–41.

This ‘bidirectional’ process is well illustrated in Tolkein's The Hobbit. In the second chapter, the reader finds Bilbo Baggins – a home-loving hobbit – about to sit down for a meal, before being ‘gatecrashed’ by a group of dwarves and a wizard. His reaction is one of surprise, followed by anger and retreat. And yet, when he wakes the next morning to find them gone, ‘in a way he could not help feeling just a trifle disappointed. The feeling surprised him.’

Tolkien 1937, p. 34.

Supporting students through their and my own journey means sitting both under and outside the shell: someone who is of my own culture, and yet one who also stands with a foot in someone else's. This enables a greater opportunity to listen and share life together. In my own experience, it is more comfortable to do this when things are positive. When struggle hits, it is natural for an individual to retreat under their familiar shell; not only that, but with an expectation for others to follow. When someone retreats for comfort because they’re struggling, it may be necessary to understand where it is they have found safety and perhaps try to go there with them. This love and ‘being with’ comes out of a Christian basis of the nature of God as love,

Bennett Moore 2002, p. 1.

Amid the opportunities for many to travel and explore, some have criticised the growing trend of focusing on the similarities between cultures. Robert Hughes writes as Time magazine's art critic and, in his book The Culture of Complaint, he suggests that there is a need to step into engaging also with the differences in order to bring together a fragmented modern-day America. He suggests that it is necessary to acknowledge ‘that the differences between races, nations, cultures . . . are at least as profound and durable as their similarities; that these differences are not divagations from a European norm, but structures eminently worth knowing about for their own sake’.

Hughes 1993, p. 100.

Given inherent cultural differences from around the world and the sheer volume of material, my aim is to focus on a few cultures in the hope that through researching what others have written on the subject of communication, I can discover whether different ways of communication in cultures are echoed with different expressions of struggle and responses to it – for example, is a naturally talkative culture therefore more likely to talk about struggle? In order to do this, I have found a practical model created by Richard Lewis for helping businesses engage with cultural differences particularly helpful. This model has been used as a guide in Lewis's training to show ‘how our own culture and language affect the ways in which we organise our world, think, feel and respond,’

http://www.crossculture.com/product/when-cultures-collide/.

Richard Lewis's model divides cultures into three types:

http://changingminds.org/explanations/culture/lewis_culture.htm.

Figure 1

Under these three different headings, Lewis describes attributes that he sees as common to these cultures. Those who fall into the Linear-active model – for example, the UK and the USA – Lewis suggests, have a tendency to be polite but direct, result-oriented, use restrained body language, and confront difficulties with logic. Multi-actives – for example, Spain and Italy – tend to multi-task, are emotional and relationship-oriented, use unrestrained body language and deal with situations by confronting with emotion. Finally, those from Reactive backgrounds – for example, Japan and China – have a tendency to listen more of the time, react to the actions of others, are polite and indirect, are harmony-oriented, using subtle body language, and tend not to use confrontation.

Notice that these headings do not suggest that Multi-actives are ‘more emotional’, nor that Linear-actives are incapable of multi-tasking. Just because those in the Reactive group tend to listen more and are perhaps more restrained in expression does not mean that they are not people-focused. It is important to note that these categories from Lewis's model are generalisations, highlighting particular traits, but do not mean that everyone from a particular culture will fit exactly within that cultural description.

Butcher, McGrath and Stock 2007, p. 4.

In communication terms, the UK and the USA are included on the Linear-active scale, and research into emotional expression showed that people from these cultures tended to express emotion using individualistic words

Robinson 2004, p. 157, and Tanaka-Matsumi and Marsella 1976, p. 389.

Interestingly, it has also been noticeable how facial expressions seem to be much stronger for Linear-active cultures than for Reactive cultures. A study by Rachael Jack in 2011 found that Chinese participants relied more on the subtleties in the eyes, whereas British participants’ expressions were more noticeable around the mouth and eyebrows.

Jack 2011.

Figure 2

It is interesting to note the outward expressiveness of the WC faces. The subtler expressions from the EA participants links in with the careful need to establish and maintain harmony with one another, whereas a Westerner may seek to solve an issue using a logical and problem-solving attitude.

Just as, culturally, Linear-actives tended to apply logic and task-oriented methods to a problem, so also their approach to dealing with struggle was to focus on a solution, found often through one-to-one therapy, with a GP in seeking medication, and being up-front about what they felt.

Royal College of Psychiatrists 2011, p. 62.

A further question arose when looking at the categories of mental disorders, namely that Western wording and references used specifically Western psychotherapeutic models.

Tanaka-Matsumi and Chang 2002, p. 8, and Tsai and Chentsova-Dutton 2010.

Linear-active cultures on the Lewis model are said to communicate in a logical way and are result-oriented in purpose. Perhaps some would think that admitting to depression would not be an acceptable part of that cultural background. However, the overwhelming amount of research shows that people within Western cultures have an open expression of struggle within an individualised model and that they benefit from a boundaried, psychotherapeutic and/or medical model of care. It is interesting to note from Jeanne Tsai and Yulia Chentsova-Dutton

Tsai and Chentsova 2010, p. 467.

Based on the large volume of research from Linear-active cultures, there is much more I could say. However, the very availability of this research by comparison to the more limited amount available for Multi-active and Reactive cultures demands noting here, as it demonstrates the dominance of the Western psychotherapeutic model in this topic and the accessibility of help for depression within these cultures.

Reactive cultures include Japan, China and other East Asian cultures. The natural style of communication, represented on the Lewis model, is one of being good listeners, eager to compromise, accommodating and polite. The key to understanding communication in Reactive cultures is to recognise that social harmony is of paramount importance. Reading Michael Bond's book, Beyond the Chinese Face, was a fascinating journey for me in considering this topic of communication. To begin with, even the object of learning to communicate in written form has been described as ‘a Herculean chore’ – while English children need to master 26 letters in their alphabet, Chinese pupils need to learn 214 ‘radicals’.

Bond 1991, p. 27.

This focus on social harmony isn’t unique to Chinese culture. I have already recorded that research conducted by Tanaka-Matsumi and Marsella revealed that the descriptions of depressive feelings were different across the Western/Eastern divide more generally. It is perhaps not surprising to hear that Japanese nationals used ‘external’ words such as ‘rain, dark, worries, grey, cloudy, suicide, solitude, exams,’

Tanaka-Matsumi and Marsella 1976, p. 384.

Quite apart from who to talk to, however, is the issue of whether to talk at all. One therapist wrote about her observations of being a therapist in Japan:

Back in the 1980s I remember hearing young mothers encouraging their toddlers to have gaman: they were not to whine or complain but to ‘endure’ . . . However, its shadow side is that if a Japanese person talks about personal problems it can be perceived (by other Japanese people) as weak and self-indulgent.

Hitchens 2013, p. 8.

This raises a question about different models of care through a time of suffering. The idea of gaman, of not mentioning struggle, might feel unhelpful to our Western psychotherapeutic model, but may be the most helpful process for someone from Japan because it fits more widely into their cultural system – to which the student will return at the end of their course of study. One final passing comment is also worth noting, this time based on Chinese culture. Chairman Mao's opinion about psychology has almost certainly made a huge difference to the use of counselling and psychotherapy in China. Mao believed ‘the study of psychology was 90 per cent useless with the remaining ten per cent distorted and bourgeois phoney science’.

Bond 1991, p. 93.

On Lewis's model of communication, Multi-actives – for example, Hispanic and Mediterranean cultures – are said to be naturally outgoing and emotional, expressive about feelings and very warmly focused on relationships. Interestingly, though, finding research from Multi-active cultures about depression was much harder and there were fewer results about counselling for depression, in comparison to Linear-active (and even Reactive) cultures. Some have suggested this may be to do with economic conditions in Spanish-speaking countries, perhaps leading to fewer resources to input into research about the prevention and treatment of depression.

Horn, Cañizares and Gómez 2014

Where Reactive cultures have a more collectivist mentality, perhaps reflecting a less individually expressive system, Multi-active cultures tend towards being more individualistic in expression; therefore, they ‘reinforce verbal expression of negative emotion . . .’ because ‘sharing emotions represents a good form of coping’.

Fernández, Carrera, Páez and Sánchez 2008, p. 231.

Figure 3

Having seen the descriptions from Richard Lewis's model, I wonder whether Linear-active cultures see Multi-active cultures as just ‘more expressive and exuberant’ versions of themselves; and perhaps Multi-active cultures see Linear-actives as being more repressed! And yet, at the point of need, these cultures seem to shift in expression – Multi-actives becoming cautious about expressing depression, but Linear-actives now becoming more overt in naming how they feel. Reactive cultures, while being less forthright in expression most of the time, may come across as more positive when struggling, especially when with people in seniority – in contrast to Linear-active participants, who tended to be consistent in behaviour whatever the context.

Fernández, Carrera, Páez and Sánchez 2008, p. 214.

Another interesting issue to note at this point is about symptoms of struggle and depression: that of ‘guilt feelings’ in Western cultures, and notably that of presenting depressive symptoms in feelings of guilt. Some have connected this with the Judeo-Christian tradition and individualism that grew from out of Western cultures.

Tanaka-Matsumi 2001, p. 272.

A Western model of treating mental illness ‘with medication and some cognitive restructuring’ has been challenged by some who see it as an inadequate model in comparison to community providing the first and main line of support.

Lister-Ford 2007, p. 81, and Welch 2011, p. 2.

Take an example of a student from China, whose fear of failure and the shame that would bring to his family drives him to work longer and longer hours. His moods become lower and his health deteriorates. He doesn’t understand his lecturer, but to express this would bring shame to the lecturer – someone older than him and in a position of authority – so he works all the harder. This problem is not just about struggling to understand, but is about honouring relationships with his family back home – who are counting on him to succeed – as well as his seniors in his host culture. A tutor may observe the work output and see it as a huge achievement – which it is – but the tutor may not realise that the student may well be crying out for help.

I started this article with a concern for international students and how to spot struggles they may experience, particularly given that different cultures may express struggle and depression differently. The Lewis model gave me tools to understand how different cultures communicate, and how that presents in voicing – or not voicing – struggle and depression. Cultures where people use more logical methods of communication on Lewis's model do not necessarily shy away from discussing the complexities of struggle and depression; and yet people from more expressive cultures seem to hold a greater stigma with regards to depression and tend not to reveal so much of their struggle. More private and hierarchical cultures sometimes hold the group in higher regard than the individual, but struggle is communicated within intimate family groups and handled together more openly. The combination of the variety of ways in which cultures communicate and, separately, the different ways that people express struggle, make it that much harder to work through it when in a cross-cultural environment. Learning to be aware of my own ‘shell’ and the very different ‘shells’ of those from other cultures increases awareness of the problems of cross-cultural communication. Being able to lift those shells, even a little, helps to take that first significant step of comprehending the complexities of another's culture and experiences, which are so hard to understand without exposure and interaction.

Veling 2005, p. 159.

Ten days after losing her knitting, Linda was cycling home, a route she had searched repeatedly in the weeks previously, only to find her knitted baby jumper in good condition lying next to the path. Elated, she returned to her host family, who rejoiced with her. It was a deeply profound faith experience for her, and a sense of hope grew for her future return home.

I began with a story about Linda's knitting and I think it is right to finish here too as I reflect on what it means for me and other Christians engaging with international students to accompany them. These small moments of deep significance for international students are so easily missed. Seeing the background behind the story being told is very hard to spot, particularly when communicated across cultures. In The Integrity of Pastoral Care, David Lyall reflects on the progression of practical theology over the decades and concludes that ‘theological reflection is only possible when we listen to the stories of individuals and communities as well as to the stories which have shaped the Church and its message’.

Lyall 2001, p. 31.

Journeying with international students as they struggle in no way detracts from the importance and necessity of professional care, but it has been helpful to reflect on a complementary paradigm of care. This pattern of care began in a different culture, and evolved over thousands of years before the Western psychotherapeutic model grew. It continues to take place in everyday stories that people live and tell around the world today. Drawing alongside international students is a multifaceted ministry, most particularly because, while it comes out of a desire to reflect God's love incarnate (Philippians 2:5–8), it also requires careful consideration of doing so among people of different faiths and backgrounds, who live on the edge of the culture they now inhabit, and often particularly on the edge of the church community in which I dwell and from which I operate.

It can be hard to spot our own cultural idiosyncrasies until we step outside them, hard to recognise that what is normal for one seems strange to another. Meeting one another not only provides the genuine possibility of discovering another person's story – and for the other to do the same about us – but also for us to better understand ourselves. I think a crucial part of my own journey in ministry has been learning both the joys of journeying with others from around the world and also the often inherent awkwardness of it. There are times when it is uncomfortable to communicate and easier to retreat. It has brought a new light and perhaps a deeper meaning for me to the text, ‘And the Word became flesh and lived among us’ (John 1:14).

NRSV.