This special edition of the European Association for International Education (EAIE)'s member magazine Forum, which I edit, addresses the trend of digitalization in higher education and its potential for charting new paths forward in the post-coronavirus world.
Around the world twenty- and thirty-somethings are criss-crossing borders and bodies of water in search of a post in the global economy and a place in global society. This year, the Netherlands made that search a bit easier for some of us.
Public Art in Bogotá: How Graffiti Helped Transform a World Murder Capital into a Latin American Cultural Capital
In the mid-1990s, the Colombian capital was synonymous with violent crime and desperate poverty. Twenty years and many buckets of paint later, it’s better known for street art and being a model for rapid urban development.
This press release launched the second edition of the European Association for International Education (EAIE)'s 'Barometer' series, a data-driven look at the state of internationalization in European higher education, which I also edited.
It’s been a short two weeks since the Brits portmanteau’d their way out of the EU with the shocking Brexit vote. But while economists, investors, and world leaders scramble to do damage control, language lovers around the world have different concerns.
Immigration is a hot-button issue in the US right now, as well as throughout Europe, but I’ve yet to see a news report on any of the kinds of things I saw in St. Louis: a rapidly-shrinking city whose lifeline is immigration.
Madre is probably the single most-used word in Mexican slang expressions, and ostensibly it has nothing to do with mothers or women. But after spending eight months in Mexico and brushing up on my colonial history and Spanish linguistics, I’m not so sure that’s the case.
On the road from Lafayette to San Antonio, some people left me in their cars alone with the engine running, and half a dozen others made it a point to tell me they had a gun on them. One trucker mistook me for a hooker, lots of others mistook me for a bum, and one man made me ride in the grease-covered back of his pickup truck as we soared down Interstate 10.