Don’t put people in boxes
“Deep down, Ariane, do you feel French Swiss or German Swiss?” Everyone with a bilingual or “third culture kid” upbringing have heard this kind of question.
I am Swiss. A French Swiss, born and raised in Basel, in the German part of Switzerland. At home, we spoke exclusively French, with schoolmates and friends the local Swiss German dialect Baseldytsch, and at school standard or “high” German. Later on, I studied in Germany for six years, lived two years in Niger, a French-speaking African country, then settled in Geneva, while continuing to travel the world for work. Thus, it’s difficult to put me into a single box.
We actually are all far too complex to be reduced to any single label.
The danger with putting people in boxes is that those boxes are often linked to preconceived ideas. During my school years, my German teacher gave me bad marks in German for a very long time based on my “French Swiss” label. One day, I managed to prove him wrong by swapping my homework with that of my best friend. She received a better mark with my homework than me with hers. Likewise, as I settled in the French part of Switzerland, I was once accused by a French Swiss colleague to actually be a German Swiss hiding behind a French Swiss label.
I am Swiss. A French Swiss born and raised in the German part of Switzerland. That’s my identity. Period. But as Amartya Sen puts it: “The challenge is to convince the world to see us in the same way we see ourselves.”
I am Swiss. A French Swiss, born and raised in Basel, in the German part of Switzerland. At home, we spoke exclusively French, with schoolmates and friends the local Swiss German dialect Baseldytsch, and at school standard or “high” German. Later on, I studied in Germany for six years, lived two years in Niger, a French-speaking African country, then settled in Geneva, while continuing to travel the world for work. Thus, it’s difficult to put me into a single box.
We actually are all far too complex to be reduced to any single label.
The danger with putting people in boxes is that those boxes are often linked to preconceived ideas. During my school years, my German teacher gave me bad marks in German for a very long time based on my “French Swiss” label. One day, I managed to prove him wrong by swapping my homework with that of my best friend. She received a better mark with my homework than me with hers. Likewise, as I settled in the French part of Switzerland, I was once accused by a French Swiss colleague to actually be a German Swiss hiding behind a French Swiss label.
I am Swiss. A French Swiss born and raised in the German part of Switzerland. That’s my identity. Period. But as Amartya Sen puts it: “The challenge is to convince the world to see us in the same way we see ourselves.”
Identity, discrimination, violence…and hope
My father, who was a sports’ journalist, bought our first black and white TV in 1968 to watch the Olympic Games in Mexico. Watching TV that very year was a wake-up call from my child’s fantasy world. Two images marked me forever:
1) Tommie Smith and John Carlos, two African American athletes, performing a Human Rights Salute during their medal ceremony in Mexico to protest against racial discrimination in the USA.
2) Images from starving children in Biafra. Nigeria’s Biafra War was one of the bloodiest wars of independence ever fought in Africa: more than 1 million Biafran civilians died from violence and starvation.
Prior to the Olympic Games, we travelled to the USA as a family so my father could interview some American athletes in several training camps located on the west coast. We stopped in Eugene, Oregon, which happened to be one of the capitals of the hippie movement. There I was exposed to one of their many anti-war marches. “Make love, not war.” I was a very young child then, but these experiences had a significant impact on my life and my professional choices as an adult.
1) Tommie Smith and John Carlos, two African American athletes, performing a Human Rights Salute during their medal ceremony in Mexico to protest against racial discrimination in the USA.
2) Images from starving children in Biafra. Nigeria’s Biafra War was one of the bloodiest wars of independence ever fought in Africa: more than 1 million Biafran civilians died from violence and starvation.
Prior to the Olympic Games, we travelled to the USA as a family so my father could interview some American athletes in several training camps located on the west coast. We stopped in Eugene, Oregon, which happened to be one of the capitals of the hippie movement. There I was exposed to one of their many anti-war marches. “Make love, not war.” I was a very young child then, but these experiences had a significant impact on my life and my professional choices as an adult.
Stand on your own two feet
In Switzerland, independence – rather than interdependence – is commonly valued and promoted. From the cradle, children are taught to become self-reliant and to depend on themselves – walking alone to kindergarten and primary school, for instance – instead of relying on others.
I was a passionate ice-skater. But during the summer, my hometown’s open-air ice rink became solid tennis courts. At ten and eleven years of age, my parents sent me, all by myself, to the town of La Chaux-de-Fonds for my summer holidays in order to practice in a covered ice rink. I was living in a youth hostel, took care of my grocery shopping, prepared my food on a camping cooker, and did not miss any of my daily skating training sessions. Once a week, on Sundays, I called my parents from a telephone booth to let them know I was OK. So, as a result, independence ranks high on my value scale. I can never thank my parents enough for instilling this virtue in me, even though some people might think that they were irresponsible in doing so. In fact, others actually pity me, assuming that I felt lonely doing things by myself.
I was a passionate ice-skater. But during the summer, my hometown’s open-air ice rink became solid tennis courts. At ten and eleven years of age, my parents sent me, all by myself, to the town of La Chaux-de-Fonds for my summer holidays in order to practice in a covered ice rink. I was living in a youth hostel, took care of my grocery shopping, prepared my food on a camping cooker, and did not miss any of my daily skating training sessions. Once a week, on Sundays, I called my parents from a telephone booth to let them know I was OK. So, as a result, independence ranks high on my value scale. I can never thank my parents enough for instilling this virtue in me, even though some people might think that they were irresponsible in doing so. In fact, others actually pity me, assuming that I felt lonely doing things by myself.
Travel shapes youth
As a teenager, I first worked one summer on a horse farm in Gloucester, England, and then spent two summers in the USA.
East coast: I went to Cambridge, Boston as an “au pair girl.” Luckily, the family I was staying with had no children (yet). In the morning, I helped the family in its small woodwork shop, and in the afternoon, I explored the “Joy of Movement” at a nearby dancing school of the same name. I returned home fitter than ever, despite having explored some (rather caloric) new foods (such as my first local breakfast: a peanut butter, banana, honey and marshmallow cream sandwich). Overall, I was enriched by this life-lesson experience of staying with the only “white family” in an “African American” neighborhood.
West coast: I joined my uncle, who was a university professor in Los Angeles, California. Students from all around the world were flocking to work on his team. Thus, I discovered a “global world” before the global era and enjoyed every minute I spent with his group of international students. In the process, I also overcame some stereotypes I carried with me back then. In the midst of the Cold War, it took me some time to warm up to the Russian students. However, I explored the power of genuine curiosity and the benefit of reaching out and looking for things we share, rather than the things that separate us.
East coast: I went to Cambridge, Boston as an “au pair girl.” Luckily, the family I was staying with had no children (yet). In the morning, I helped the family in its small woodwork shop, and in the afternoon, I explored the “Joy of Movement” at a nearby dancing school of the same name. I returned home fitter than ever, despite having explored some (rather caloric) new foods (such as my first local breakfast: a peanut butter, banana, honey and marshmallow cream sandwich). Overall, I was enriched by this life-lesson experience of staying with the only “white family” in an “African American” neighborhood.
West coast: I joined my uncle, who was a university professor in Los Angeles, California. Students from all around the world were flocking to work on his team. Thus, I discovered a “global world” before the global era and enjoyed every minute I spent with his group of international students. In the process, I also overcame some stereotypes I carried with me back then. In the midst of the Cold War, it took me some time to warm up to the Russian students. However, I explored the power of genuine curiosity and the benefit of reaching out and looking for things we share, rather than the things that separate us.
Mini-Differences – Maxi-Disturbances
Thanks to my mother, a skillful networker long before the emergence of internet and social media, we found a university in Germany that fit my professional aspirations. I studied “food and economic security” with an emphasis on developing countries at the Justus Liebig University (JLU). This is a highly interdisciplinary field of study, including subject areas such as economics, political economy, statistics, anthropology and agriculture, as well as biology, chemistry, biochemistry, public health and nutritional physiology.
Upon arrival, however, I experienced my first real “culture shock.” I mistakenly assumed that, driving three and a half hours away from my hometown and sharing a common language (German), things wouldn’t be THAT different from what I was used to. But mini-differences mean maxi-disturbances: communication and argumentation styles, attitude towards hierarchy, even food habits and forms of politeness, nothing was really like Switzerland. If one changes continents, one expects things to be different and is prepared for it, less so if you explore a neighboring country, all the more if you share a common language. The unexpected nature of these sometimes small, but real, differences can result in puzzlement and disbelief.
Upon arrival, however, I experienced my first real “culture shock.” I mistakenly assumed that, driving three and a half hours away from my hometown and sharing a common language (German), things wouldn’t be THAT different from what I was used to. But mini-differences mean maxi-disturbances: communication and argumentation styles, attitude towards hierarchy, even food habits and forms of politeness, nothing was really like Switzerland. If one changes continents, one expects things to be different and is prepared for it, less so if you explore a neighboring country, all the more if you share a common language. The unexpected nature of these sometimes small, but real, differences can result in puzzlement and disbelief.
Learning years – from theory to practice
Considering oneself a “professional” after six years of university proves – once exposed to the real world – to be an illusion.
Guidan Sori, Niger, West Africa: As a Doctors without Borders (MSF) volunteer in the Sahel, living as the only white woman in a village of 25 families (average family size: 8.5 people), who survived by growing peanuts as commercial crop and from millet, sorghum, and cow peas as subsistence culture. Rainfall was spare to absent, and the agricultural outcome therefore unpredictable.
My task was to screen and treat malnourished children, and to teach mothers on how to better feed their children to reduce the high malnutrition rate prevalent in the area. I realized quickly that being a young, unmarried, childless woman of my own did not help my credibility among the people I served – at least in the beginning. Later on, I recognized that it was the men I should focus on, as they were the ones deciding on how to spend the spare money they had. By the end of my stay, my attention had entirely shifted towards agricultural and economical programs, to better ensure income generation and, consequently, a better diet.
The key piece of experience learned from my Nigerien experience: never consider oneself an “expert.” Or, as Amadou Hampâté Bâ (Malian writer and ethnologist) did put it, “One has to know that one doesn’t know. If you know that you don’t know, you will know. But if you don’t know that you don’t know, you will not know.”
Guidan Sori, Niger, West Africa: As a Doctors without Borders (MSF) volunteer in the Sahel, living as the only white woman in a village of 25 families (average family size: 8.5 people), who survived by growing peanuts as commercial crop and from millet, sorghum, and cow peas as subsistence culture. Rainfall was spare to absent, and the agricultural outcome therefore unpredictable.
My task was to screen and treat malnourished children, and to teach mothers on how to better feed their children to reduce the high malnutrition rate prevalent in the area. I realized quickly that being a young, unmarried, childless woman of my own did not help my credibility among the people I served – at least in the beginning. Later on, I recognized that it was the men I should focus on, as they were the ones deciding on how to spend the spare money they had. By the end of my stay, my attention had entirely shifted towards agricultural and economical programs, to better ensure income generation and, consequently, a better diet.
The key piece of experience learned from my Nigerien experience: never consider oneself an “expert.” Or, as Amadou Hampâté Bâ (Malian writer and ethnologist) did put it, “One has to know that one doesn’t know. If you know that you don’t know, you will know. But if you don’t know that you don’t know, you will not know.”
Humanitarian Years
I will never forget my first mission for the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) back in 1988, sitting in an “Ariana Afghan Airlines” airplane approaching the Kabul Airport (Afghanistan) in a very steep, swift and extremely tight spiral movement, all while surrounded by military airplanes dropping decoy flares to prevent them being hit by missiles. Welcome to the humanitarian field! More than fifty other missions followed in dozens of conflict areas in Africa, Asia, Central Asia, the Middle East, the Caucasus, and the Balkans. I will always remember my last ICRC mission – my 15th trip to Afghanistan, during which I had the task of exploring by horseback some remote villages in one of the most mountainous regions of Afghanistan. It felt as if I had come full circle.
Professionally, I conducted evaluations of the economic security status of populations, regions, private and public institutions on behalf of the “Economic Security Department” of the ICRC. I carried out needs assessments and program evaluations, as well as strategic planning, project management, and project implementations. I had to negotiate and coordinate with local authorities and other humanitarian organizations, as well as design and deliver various trainings for ICRC employees and universities on four continents.
Personally, my humanitarian years taught me humility and gratefulness to have grown-up in a peaceful and safe environment. It led me to look at things from a wider perspective, and to try to put myself in the other people’s shoes – even if this was challenging. I came to realize that things were never black and white, and that many shades of grey existed. This led me to question my assumptions, think outside the box, and devise my own customized/creative, not universal, solutions. Finally, I recognized that people with the least amount of possessions were, at times, the most hospital and generous of all, and that one didn’t necessarily have to be rich to be happy.
Professionally, I conducted evaluations of the economic security status of populations, regions, private and public institutions on behalf of the “Economic Security Department” of the ICRC. I carried out needs assessments and program evaluations, as well as strategic planning, project management, and project implementations. I had to negotiate and coordinate with local authorities and other humanitarian organizations, as well as design and deliver various trainings for ICRC employees and universities on four continents.
Personally, my humanitarian years taught me humility and gratefulness to have grown-up in a peaceful and safe environment. It led me to look at things from a wider perspective, and to try to put myself in the other people’s shoes – even if this was challenging. I came to realize that things were never black and white, and that many shades of grey existed. This led me to question my assumptions, think outside the box, and devise my own customized/creative, not universal, solutions. Finally, I recognized that people with the least amount of possessions were, at times, the most hospital and generous of all, and that one didn’t necessarily have to be rich to be happy.
Timeout – transforming my sights into insights
Seeking to develop my management skills as the new head of ICRC’s “Economic Security” Department, I started an executive Master’s in Management and Organization Development (MOD). During these studies, two of my professors strongly and persistently suggested that I transform my international experience into intercultural skillfulness. “You have been traveling the world for years. Go back to university and take some time to structure your experience”. After some hesitation, I finally gave in and acquired several intercultural certificates in Europe and the USA. My only regret was to have waited so long to “transform my sights into insights,” as the travel author Pico Iyer puts it.
A couple of academic certificates later (AI – Appreciative Inquiry, MBE – Manager in Business Entertainment, Process Consulting and Corporate Culture, etc.), and after having fulfilled a child’s dream to take circus classes at the Dimitri School in Verscio (in the Italian part of Switzerland), I felt it was time to move on and find a way to put my acquired experiences and skills at the service of individuals, organizations and companies working in an increasingly multicultural and complex work environment.
A couple of academic certificates later (AI – Appreciative Inquiry, MBE – Manager in Business Entertainment, Process Consulting and Corporate Culture, etc.), and after having fulfilled a child’s dream to take circus classes at the Dimitri School in Verscio (in the Italian part of Switzerland), I felt it was time to move on and find a way to put my acquired experiences and skills at the service of individuals, organizations and companies working in an increasingly multicultural and complex work environment.
Connecting People
Ctrl Culture Relations was founded in Lausanne, Switzerland in 2001 as a one-woman enterprise, with a large international network of like-minded professionals and colleagues throughout the world. Its objective is to help individuals, teams, and organizations navigate and perform successfully in an increasingly interconnected, complex and volatile work environment. Culture Relations’ clients include private companies and corporations, governmental and non-governmental organizations, small business with international partners, merged enterprises, international humanitarian agencies, as well as universities and the world of academia.
An essential aspect of my work is, simply put, to connect people. Connecting people with themselves, with others, and with their environment, in order to enhance individual performance, group effectiveness, and business success. I am committed to meeting or exceeding my clients’ needs and expectations, and to follow my heart and intuition to deliver these services in a highly participatory and creative way, which is important to me. I am known for the passion, enthusiasm and dynamism I bring to work, and for my motivation to explore new realms for my clients’ benefit.
An essential aspect of my work is, simply put, to connect people. Connecting people with themselves, with others, and with their environment, in order to enhance individual performance, group effectiveness, and business success. I am committed to meeting or exceeding my clients’ needs and expectations, and to follow my heart and intuition to deliver these services in a highly participatory and creative way, which is important to me. I am known for the passion, enthusiasm and dynamism I bring to work, and for my motivation to explore new realms for my clients’ benefit.
