The Geography of Growth: Rethinking the True Purpose of Study Abroad

For years, the conventional wisdom surrounding study abroad programs has been centered on the concept of "disruption." Students are encouraged to flee their comfort zones, travel to the most linguistically challenging, culturally disparate, or geographically distant locations possible to undergo a "transformative experience." It is a narrative of hardship as a prerequisite for enlightenment.

However, a recent professional development excursion to Tuscany—organized by the Center for Global Education and Experience (CGEE) at Augsburg University—has forced a recalibration of this perspective. It suggests that the value of travel is not found in the exoticism of the destination, but in the intentionality of the engagement.

The Myth of the "Easy" Journey

The skepticism began at home. Two years ago, when the daughter of a close friend—a young woman of remarkable empathy and global awareness—mentioned she was considering a semester in Spain, my initial reaction was one of reflexive criticism. Having already spent a summer there working for her uncle, she was, in my estimation, taking the "easy road." I viewed her choice as a squandering of institutional privilege, assuming that familiarity would inevitably lead to stagnation.

My own intellectual arrogance was challenged when I found myself in a similar position this past spring. Burned out from the demands of academia, I accepted an invitation to join a faculty-led familiarization trip to Tuscany. The trip was facilitated by the CGEE, an organization typically lauded for its immersive, social-justice-oriented programs in Central America and Africa.

Initially, I harbored doubts. Was a trip to Tuscany—the quintessential "vacation" destination—merely a retreat for the weary, or could it serve a higher academic purpose? My bias was fueled by a long-standing personal aversion to the intersection of "faith" and "travel." Raised on a skepticism of institutional religion, the prospect of a tour titled "A Taste of Italy: Food and Faith" left me feeling cynical. I arrived in Italy anticipating a superficial, luxury-adjacent experience, only to find that my own lack of curiosity was the true barrier to learning.

A Chronology of Discovery: From Skepticism to Insight

The journey began with an orientation led by Joe Connelly, whose baseball cap—emblazoned with the simple instruction "Do Good"—set the tone for the week. The curriculum, I soon realized, was not a traditional, linear lecture series. It was inductive, unfolding through encounters rather than arguments.

The Initial Resistance

In the early days of the trip, the surroundings felt almost too comfortable. The landscape was picturesque, the food was exquisite, and the pace was luxurious. I found myself mentally distancing, viewing the experience through the lens of a tourist rather than a scholar. I had failed to read the "syllabus" of the trip properly; I expected a rigid itinerary of historical sites, but I was instead thrust into a series of deeply human, messy, and philosophical dialogues.

The Shift in Perspective

The turning point came when the conversation moved beyond the surface of the Italian countryside. We engaged with the work of Paulo Freire, debated the complexities of migration policy in a country grappling with its own borders, and dined at a kosher restaurant, finding commonality in the traditions of falafel and latkes.

Most profoundly, we met with Padre Bernardo, the Benedictine abbot at San Miniato al Monte. His discourse was not a dry recitation of theology; he spoke of cosmology, the human condition, and the music of Pink Floyd in the same breath. It was a jarring, beautiful reminder that faith, when stripped of dogma, is simply an exploration of the darkness and light that defines our existence.

The Role of Institutional Design in Experiential Learning

The CGEE model is distinct from the typical "study abroad" experience. While many programs focus on the "what"—the destination—the CGEE focuses on the "how." By pairing academic leaders with local guides and curated social justice frameworks, they facilitate a deeper form of learning that transcends the superficiality of typical tourism.

Supporting Data and Philosophy

The efficacy of these programs rests on three pillars:

1. Cultural Humility: The recognition that one’s own cultural assumptions are not universal truths.
2. Intentionality: The rejection of the idea that a location is inherently "educational." Learning requires an active effort to engage with the lives of those who inhabit a place.
3. Community Engagement: Moving away from the "outsider" perspective—the tourist looking in—to an "insider" perspective, where one attempts to understand the daily mechanics of living in a foreign environment.

As Sue Rivera of Macalester College, who participated in a previous CGEE trip to Namibia, noted: "These trips are thoughtful in a way that a mere vacation is not." By designing trips that prioritize reflection and critical inquiry, institutions can turn even the most "familiar" locations into laboratories for personal and intellectual growth.

Implications: The Death of Mastery

Perhaps the most significant lesson of the trip was the danger of "mastery." In academic circles, we are taught to be the experts, to have the answers, and to approach the world with a sense of control. This attitude is the enemy of growth. To truly learn, one must be willing to appear less knowledgeable, to ask the "silly" questions, and to admit that the path forward is not always visible from where one currently stands.

My parents, during their own travels, often joked about being lost in small European towns, receiving the reply, "You can’t get there from here." I realized that this phrase is less of a warning and more of a reality for the traveler who refuses to hire a guide or lean into the local rhythm. We cannot always reach a deeper understanding of a place by relying on our own internal maps. We need others to show us the way.

Conclusion: The Final Reflection

In our final session, the group—comprised of various academic professionals—shared reflections on the week. The quote from Mary Oliver, "Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it," served as the anchor for our collective experience.

I thought back to my friend’s daughter. My initial judgment of her choice to study in Spain was a reflection of my own rigid assumptions about what constitutes "valuable" travel. In reality, she was engaging with a family of nine, sharing a single shower, and navigating the complexities of a life far different from her own. She was doing the hard work of building empathy and understanding.

The true goal of study abroad is not to force students into the most difficult or distant environment possible, but to teach them to see what they are missing in their own backyards. It is about the cultivation of curiosity. Whether one is in Florence, Italy, or Florence, Alabama, the opportunity to learn remains the same. It requires only the willingness to put on someone else’s shoes, to set aside the arrogance of expertise, and to finally, truly, pay attention.