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Beginning at age
10, when she and her family fled East Germany, Barbara Carvill has often
felt like the new person in a strange place. But at most stops along
the way she was made to feel welcome and she's never forgotten what
that was like.
So it's perhaps no surprise
that her teaching career at Calvin College has been marked by a passion
to create community in her classrooms, to make all of her students feel
welcome.
And now that passion has
earned her Calvin's highest faculty honor - the Presidential Award for
Exemplary Teaching. The award includes a one-of-a-kind medallion and
provides the winner with a significant financial stipend thanks to the
George B. and Margaret K. Tinholt Endowment Fund, set up at Calvin by
an anonymous donor in honor of George Tinholt, a former member of the
Calvin Board of Trustees.
Carvill says her teaching
philosophy is tied pretty closely to the arc of her life, a story that
had its first upheaval in1950 when, as a young girl, she fled the Communist-controlled
eastern part of Germany for the U.S.-controlled west. It was there Carvill
had the one experience in her life where she, as a newcomer, was not
made to feel welcome.
"They (the Germans in
the west) had very little," Carvill recalls, "and disliked
all the refugees from the East. We definitely did not feel welcomed
there. I remember feeling very estranged and forlorn."
Carvill contrasts that experience
with the welcome she felt when she came to Calvin in 1978 as a recent
widow and mother of a four-year-old daughter. Carvill had been teaching
at Toronto District Christian High School and working on a Ph.D. at
the University of Toronto, while also involved with her husband, Robert,
in a myriad of activities at the Institute for Christian Studies. When
their daughter was born in 1973, she was baptized in a Christian Reformed
Church and the Carvill family joined the CRC. That chain of events led
to an offer to come to Calvin.
"I was invited by Calvin
to apply for a job in the German department," she says, "because
they wanted a native German speaker and preferably a person from the
CRC."
Carvill begins to smile as
she continues.
"We had joined the CRC,
and I was a native speaker - so I was probably the only person on the
whole continent with these qualifications," she says with a chuckle.
Regardless of the circumstances,
the move from Toronto to Grand Rapids proved a good fit for both Calvin
and Carvill, especially after the death of Robert from leukemia in 1975.
"I was well received
here," she says. "People took me in right from the beginning.
I never felt an outsider here. I came to a good department with wonderful
talented and appreciative colleagues. I was truly welcomed as a stranger."
Almost a quarter of a century
later, Carvill and colleague David Smith would write a ground-breaking
book on foreign language instruction called The Gift of the Stranger:
Faith, Hospitality, and Foreign Language Learning.
Coincidence? Carvill says
no.
"Having been welcomed
into this community," she says, "I wanted to give something
back, to show how important the virtue of hospitality is in life."
In the book, Smith and Carvill
propose that foreign language education prepare students for two related
callings: to be a blessing as strangers in a foreign land, and to be
hospitable strangers in their own homeland.
Nothing there, says Carvill
with another smile, about verb tenses and endings. And then she elaborates.
"In the last 20 years,"
she says, "a lot has changed in our field (foreign language instruction).
The stress is not so much on the mastery of grammar, but on understanding
culture in its different dimensions and to develop intercultural competency."
Carvill thinks that's a good
thing. But what she didn't like about the shift was the content of the
culture in most foreign language textbooks. These books, she says, are
covering politically correct issues in an often boring and quite sanitized
fashion.
"Since these are secular
textbooks," she says, "they ignore for instance the religious
dimension of human life."
Carvill wants more for her
students. She wants what she calls "the real stuff of life."
And so she likes to lead
her students to a deeper understanding of human life and of faith. She
looks for language materials which are potentially life-changing and
life-giving. Bringing students to those "aha moments," she
is convinced, is what makes studying a foreign language worthwhile,
for both student and teacher.
This thinking, she says,
comes from her engagement with Reformed thought, an engagement she credits
to her husband. Barbara and Robert met at Northwestern University in
Illinois in the late 1960s where Barbara was a teaching assistant on
a Fulbright Scholarship. Robert, a native of Maine, had done his undergraduate
work at Gordon College in Massachusetts and had become captivated by
the Reformed tradition. Soon, Barbara too became attracted to this intellectual
Christian tradition which she did not find in American evangelicalism
at that time.
In 1969, the pair married
and moved to Toronto to work and learn more about the Reformed world
and life view as practiced at the Institute for Christian Studies.
"There, at the ICS,"
Barbara recalls, "I became convinced that we had to rethink the
whole foreign language enterprise from a Christian perspective."
At Calvin, however, she soon
began to realize that she couldn't solve this task just theoretically.
But, she says, over time the spiritual and intellectual climate of Calvin,
particularly of the German department with two masterful teachers, clarified
to her more and more what teaching foreign languages from a Christian
perspective should look like.
The Gift of the Stranger,
she says, is an embodiment of almost 25 years of teaching at Calvin,
a small flowering of the seeds that were planted in the early 1970s
at the ICS and nurtured during a quarter century of practice at Calvin.
In the book, and in her teaching,
she calls on people to practice two kinds of foreign language hospitality.
The first is to be a blessing as strangers in other lands - not just
to be polite although, says Carvill, that's important too - but to ask
good informed questions which can be a gift to one's foreign host. The
second is to develop the Christian virtue of hospitality towards the
foreign culture and its people.
Jim Lamse, a former colleague
of Carvill's, recalls a vivid demonstration of Carvill's commitment
to this ideal.
Carvill had been asked to
speak at the closing banquet in Chengdu as part of a summer workshop
for Chinese English teachers sponsored by the English Language Institute
China (ELIC). She first wrote out her speech in English, but with great
deference to the Chinese style of speechmaking, which she had taken
the time to study. But when it was her turn to speak, the audience was
astounded to hear her present her thoughts in their language. She had
the speech translated and recorded for her in Mandarin Chinese so that
she could memorized it with the correct pronunciation.
Says Lamse: "It
was a speech and an evening those in attendance would never forget.
She honored their traditions and took the trouble to learn their language.
But that's Barbara, at home or abroad, living out lovingly and with
delight the hospitable message of Scripture and the loving ethos of
our department."
Former students
of Carvill echo Lamse's benediction.
In writing to support Carvill's
nomination for the teaching award, one former student said: "Not
only did I learn to read and interpret German literature, but I also
learned to perceive the literature through the eyes of faith."
She added: "Faith was not something that was left outside the classroom
door in Frau Carvill's class."
Another student wrote: "Professor
Carvill taught me the meaning of hard work and doing my best. This was
not simply because she assigned more work in her class, but because
she made me want to actually learn the material."
Such words warm Carvill's
heart because they reflect her teaching philosophy.
"I like creating a classroom
atmosphere," she says, "in which I want to give my best. If
the students have my best, they will learn best."
Carvill admits that some
learners are tougher to reach than others, adding that early in her
career she was too quick to dismiss such students. Now, she says, she
works harder to connect with them, to get through the facades students
sometimes erect and to find hidden gifts that they may bring to the
classroom. Usually, she says, she is successful in this attempt.
And then both she and her
students share an important gift: a classroom where connections are
made and learning is not a stranger.
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