Features

 

By Sara E. Butner

For three weeks in July, Assistant Professor of Physics Don Smith traded his air-conditioned office and laboratory in the Frank Family Science Center for a camp-like retreat center in a western Russian forest, teaching college and graduate students as part of a federally funded science outreach program.

Smith was one of nine American teachers in the seventh annual language training camp sponsored by the U.S. Civilian Research and Development Foundation. The CRDF was founded as a public/private partnership between the U.S. Congress and National Science Foundation to “promote peace and prosperity through international science collaboration” – namely, to help former Soviet Union scientists transition into the private sector. “It’s the ‘teach someone to fish rather than giving them a fish’ approach,” Smith says.

Even today, Russian schools emphasize theory rather than hands-on research, Smith says. Whereas American science students take for granted performing experiments and presenting research beginning as early as middle school, “the Russian educational model is not linked to research like it is in the U.S., especially like it is here at Guilford,” Smith says.

Smith learned of the camp almost by accident. In May, he was contacted by Stephen Hoyt, a Greensboro resident who’d been involved with the CRDF language training camp program since its inception. Hoyt wanted to recruit a physics professor to teach, and visited the Web page of Guilford’s physics department. He liked the department’s teaching style, which emphasizes research and collaboration. He called to ask – as Smith remembers it – “would you be interested in going to Russia for three weeks next month?”

Smith was the only professional educator in his group of teachers, which also included a water purification specialist from Los Alamos, an industrial physicist and Dr. Kristen Sanford, a neurologist who writes the This Week in Science blog. Their 64 students were grouped according to English language proficiency; Smith had to tailor his lessons on the philosophy of science, history of science and ethics to each language level. (The students each signed pledges to speak only English during camp activities.)

Unlike in the U.S., Russian students tend to stick close to home when going to college or graduate school. As a result, Smith says, many of his students had never flown on an airplane prior to the camp. They stayed outside the city of Tambov, the capital of western Russia’s Tambov province. On a map Tambov looks like it could be a suburb of Moscow, but it’s actually a nine-hour train ride away.

Just to highlight the country’s vastness, Smith points out that the continental United States covers four time zones; Russia covers nine. Students from Vladivostok, on Russia’s Pacific coast, traveled just under 4,000 miles to reach Tambov; Smith’s journey was just over 5,000 miles. “Some of them traveled almost as far as I did and they didn’t leave their own country,” he says. “I’d been to Germany before, which gave me an appreciation for how big the U.S. is, but Russia makes the U.S. look small.”

The camp’s students, all in their early 20s, hailed from universities all over the country. Their English skills varied, which Smith admits could be frustrating. In his lessons, he couldn’t delve too deeply into physics because most students lacked the vocabulary to follow him. It wasn’t always easy to simplify lesson plans that worked with a more proficient group for students who didn’t speak English as well.

But at the end of the camp, students held a sort of mini-conference, presenting research they’d done in their graduate and undergraduate programs. Not only did the students get the opportunity to practice their formal presentation skills, but they also got to show off what they could do when freed of a language barrier. “It was neat to see the conference at the end, to see people you’d seen really struggle [with the language],” Smith says.

The camp participants – students and their teachers – also bonded with intense volleyball tournaments and other games. “By and large, you wouldn’t be surprised to see these students in college in the U.S.,” he says. In their spare time they travelled. Smith says the trip to the Russian capital at Moscow was particularly illuminating for him.

“You were confronted by very different things than you would find here,” he says. “You’re not going to see a giant statue of Lenin in America.” For instance, directly across from Lenin’s Tomb is GUM, a high-end luxury department store – a juxtaposition of political communism and popular capitalism that exemplifies the country today.

Oddly enough, Smith’s visit immediately preceded Russia’s return to the American consciousness as a possible threat. Later in the summer, one of his students would e-mail him with an account of hiking in Georgia the week that Russian forces invaded the former Soviet republic. Weeks before American presidential candidates would talk of Russia’s government in guarded terms not heard for decades, Smith would snap pictures of the Kremlin as a tourist.

“The Kremlin is actually a city block full of churches and government buildings,” he says. “You think, it’s ‘The Kremlin,’ but it’s really very innocuous.” The only Russian characteristic that bothered Smith at the time of his visit was the nation’s “staggering” lack of racial diversity.

“It was a profoundly moving experience to connect with and support these students who are embarking on voyages of scientific discovery in uncertain times,” he says today. “I left with a palpable sense of having made a positive difference in their lives. Student evaluations of the camp were universally positive, some even going so far as to make comments like ‘it was the best experience of my life.’ Many tears were shed as we all scattered to our respective homes at the end of the program.

“With the global connectedness that the modern internet provides, I hope to maintain contact with these students. Who knows what opportunities we may be able to offer each other?”

Learn more about Smith at his Web page.