When East Meets West: Lessons From Running A Lab Filled With Foreigners

As a rare Westerner strolling recently among Shanghai’s 12 million Chinese, I nearly caused spectacular bicycle pile-ups. Riders risked life and limb to snap their heads in my direction, underlining my novel role as a minority person. Yet when I returned to my research laboratory at Emory University in Atlanta, it seemed that little had changed. True, there were no potential bike catastrophes. But my research group of eight contains just three United States citizens. The rest are from China, Taiwan, India, and Korea. My group mirrors an important trend, the increasing numbers of international students and professionals in U.S. science and technology, many from China and other developing "Asiatic nations. The pros and cons for the U.S. and the home countries have been widely discussed, but I haven’t heard a great deal about the impact on university research groups, where much of this country’s science is done and taught. My experience in leading such a group in experimental condensed matter physics provides some insights into the benefits and problems, and suggests possible responses. The biggest benefit from the non-Americans in my group is obvious: At a time when U.S. graduate students and postdoctoral researchers are in short supply, these internationals are a pool of well-motivated people, often with fine fundamental training. What attracts them? Certainly they’re drawn to our group's excellent faciities, and they enjoy the solid technical base that underlies U.S. science. I’ve learned, too, that those who make it to this country are a self-selected ambitious lot, willing to face a new culture and language to become better scientists. Perhaps their strongest motivation—one that may be of decreasing importance to U.S. natives—is that a profession in science is a main channel to personal or national improvement. Some of the older Chinese have a fervent desire to regain professional ground lost during the Cultural Revolution. The biggest difficulty in the group is also obvious: problems with the English language, especially as written. Verbal communication requires extra patience on both sides, but it also illustrates how universal is the scientific vocabulary. To help those in my group to communicate, I’ve set up our weekly group meetings so that each person gives a brief oral progress report. In addition, I require regular hour-long formal talks in my graduste courses. These “performances” are hard even for native English speakers but build poise, pronunciation, and scientific self-confidence. Problems with the written word are less tractable. For scientific papers, we use advanced microcomputer word processing with spelling, thesaurus, footnoting, and scientific typesetting functions. Although this helps, none of the foreigners writes impeccable English. So I have worked out the following procedure. When one of the internationals is to serve as lead author of a research paper, he writes a first draft to present the scientific issues. Although deep understanding of the science may be evident, incorrect English usage usually fogs the clear presentation of concepts. We then consult and revise many times until we agree on the science and its interpretation, expressed in correct English. Then I carry out a final revision for style. Scientific Writing This process guarantees, at least, that as group leader I truly know every word published under my name. But it also increases writing time—time that might better be spent in educating internationals. Accordingly I am recommending that my students and postdocs study books on scientific writing on their own. I also am investigating the possibility of giving informal lessons, to eventually make writing less demanding for all of is Other inescapable features of working with foreign students and scientists are cultural differences, which present benefits mixed with drawbacks. Intercultural comparison itself can be a lively topic in our group’s socializing, especially while we enjoy each other’s varied international cooking. It’s easy for me as host to provide my own national cooking, but I must also remember to cater to other diets. Some of the internationals are far more respectful to me than their U.S. counterparts would be. This is gratifying, but if carried too far can be corrupting. It inhibits open exchange and leads to the pleasant, dangerous belief that I am infallible. My own graduate tradition, and what I believe to be the American style, favors vigorous discussion between professor and students or postdocs held at something like peer level. Only the most aggressive of the internationals operate in this way. I would prefer that each person in my group address me by my first name, to promote informality and open discussion. I have discovered, however, that this is a stumbling block for some of the internationals, and I’ve learned not to insist on it. Two international Ph.D.s who passed through my group and on to their own careers still can’t bring themselves to call me anything but “Dr. Perkowitz.” Some symbols of respect, I suppose, are too deep maybe too important—to erase. I was surprised to see that the internationals are also often shy about money matters, such as salaries and student support. I almost always must initiate discussions about these matters, even when it is in the others’ best interest to ask questions or state problems. For my own part, I work better with my group since my trip to China, which taught me about typical scientific training there, and elicited my first true insights into motivation and culture. But when I think about the entire question of internationals, I recall that my parents were born in Europe and came here to fit into the U.S. mosaic. I know how deeply American it has been to include those from here, and how enriching it has been. Yes, I worry that U.S. citizens don’t enter science and engineering. This can’t be good and needs to be addressed by changing our attitudes or education. But international students and professionals in science and technology will continue to be drawn here. I want to carry on the tradition of welcoming them, while encouraging them to adopt enough of American ways to enter—and then extend—our mosaic. Sidney Perkowitz is Charles Howard Candler Professor of Condensed Matter Physics at Emory University.

When East Meets West: Lessons From Running A Lab Filled With Foreigners

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