Teaching at a Baltic-based university offers sanctuary for the battered and best

KLAIPEDA, Lithuania — Nabil (whose name has been changed) takes a smoke break between classes at LCC International University. He smokes Winstons, red pack; it calms his nerves.

A stylish man who often wears a cashmere top coat and black sports car cap, Nabil, 25, is from Syria. A computer wonk, he came to LCC to study communication, but his dream job is to own a line of sportswear that he will promote using his talents in marketing and social media.  

LCC President Marlene Wall.

LCC President Marlene Wall.

According to LCC President Marlene Wall, LCC’s most recent growth has come from welcoming more than 40 students from war-affected countries, namely Iraq, Syria and Afghanistan. 

As a visiting professor teaching journalism and other subjects this fall, I observed the unique institution and its remarkably diverse students. And I felt a sense of hope in a geopolitically and ideologically divided world.

This sense of optimism permeates the culture of LCC.

“These students have changed the way we watch the news, bringing with them the traumatic stories of fleeing ISIS and of seeing home cities such as Aleppo and Mosul destroyed,” Wall said.  

Wall began her career at LCC 18 years ago and leads a fully-accredited university with nearly 600 students from more than 50 countries who make up 72 percent of the student population. While North American institutions in the Council for Christian Colleges and Universities boast of students from more than 30 countries, they typically have one student from each country.

A more significant contrast is that LCC International University is the only Christian, liberal arts university in a region that is twice as large as the United States--where 200 of this kind of university exist.

The global nature of the university where Russians room with Ukrainians, depicted on American TV news as hostiles, is a matter of course at this university off the shores of the inky Baltic Sea.

Yana Ustymenko, 21, is a junior contemporary communication major from Ukraine.

“I didn’t come to LCC for the religious impact,” she said from the lobby of the university reminiscent of an Ikea showroom.  “It is a safe environment for students to share their perspectives on various topics connected to Christianity. Although I am not a believer, discussions we had helped me to understand how other people see the world, and those perspectives helped me to shape my worldview.”

For Ustymenko, the social aspect of the outing trumped the spiritual benefits.

Miro Yarkova, 20, left, is a junior contemporary communication major from Russia. Yana Ustymenko, 21, is a junior contemporary communication major from Ukraine. They roomed together last academic year. Photo by Michael Ray Smith.

Miro Yarkova, 20, left, is a junior contemporary communication major from Russia. Yana Ustymenko, 21, is a junior contemporary communication major from Ukraine. They roomed together last academic year. Photo by Michael Ray Smith.

Students run the spiritual spectrum from Orthodox Christians to Roman Catholics, Protestants with charismatic tendencies, Baptists and plenty of students who aren’t disrespectful of Christianity but are not actively seeking faith.

Miro Yarkova, 20, Ustymenko’s roommate last academic year, echos Ustymenko’s sentiments. Yarkova is a junior contemporary communication major from Russia and is a representative to the European Youth Parliament that met in Germany in October.

 “I came to LCC because of the Future Leaders Exchange Program,” she said, “I came because LCC isn’t about good or bad, but it helps expand people’s thinking.”

For instance, she said that some countries view people with disabilities as shunned populations.

“Some countries close their eyes to disabilities and hide it,” she said, brushing her hair behind her ears. She said that people in her country often don’t typically talk about faith, but LCC allows students to learn about various cultures including Christians who pray.

“LCC allows future leaders to consider their potential and not limit themselves,” she said, noting the Christian influence can contribute to a better understanding by people from far-flung countries. 

LCC resembles its North American counterparts where faculty challenge each other over ways to integrate faith and learning. The university began in 1991 as a joint venture of Lithuanian, Canadian and American foundations and has its origins in the Mennonite tradition. Some faculty resist talking about the Mennonite connection but all agree that the tuition and room expense hovers around an astonishingly 3,100 EUR per academic year, making it a bargain compared to similar education in the United States at $20,000 to $25,000 per year.

Like the other students from battered countries Nabil works full-time to pay his way. He has an apartment and a demanding job. When he visits his parents who sometimes get by on 10 EUR per month, he has to slip into the country from Turkey. 

His greatest fear is that one of the rival Syrian forces will conscript him into a war that shows no signs of ending.

Unlike his American counterparts, he shuns Facebook and asks to avoid group work.

“I work better alone,” he once told me over lunch. “I work a lot.”

LCC students are not pilgrims headed to Canterbury Cathedral; they are in search of an international experience and grapple with the residue of post-Soviet life. And English is the key to unleash free speech and freedom of religion.

Will Dyer, 20, the son of Youth With A Mission missionaries, sports a top-knot hairstyle and a breezy manner. He is the kind of student who will lie on the grass outside a basement classroom and enjoy a balmy day while listening through an open window.

Will Dyer, 20, a communications student. Photo by Michael Ray Smith.

Will Dyer, 20, a communications student. Photo by Michael Ray Smith.

“I wanted a Christian university that wasn’t too Christian,” he said, shrugging off his green, military-style winter coat. “Here’s the thing,” he said opening his arms wide. “You can’t get through LCC without thinking. You can’t get through without talking to people who think differently than you.”

The compact campus, originally designed to be a medical clinic, is a series of cramped offices, state-of-the art classrooms and glass partitions on every floor. International relations and business classes attract the most majors but peace studies is popular along with classes in English as a second language. 

Dyer studies in the Department of Contemporary Communication and he works with the chapel worship group. He remembers the meeting in his kitchen on his dormitory floor in late October where he showed his roommates, not Christians, cards that depicted ideas of God. For instance, cards show a person running in the rain, a broken bicycle, a person sitting on a park bench alone, an eyeball, a spider, a mountain, a wedding dress and other other scenes.

“I was expecting these four guys to look at the cards for a moment and the exercise would be over,” Dyer said, his cheeks warming in excitement. “They loved it. They spent an hour talking about the cards.” 

Dyer’s friends didn’t raise their hands in an act of conversion, but they liked the idea of thinking about the role of divinity in their lives.

Wall said one of the goals of this university where Ukranians room with Russians is to create a safe place.

She sees the international community of LCC as a place of transformation. She often quotes Henry Nouwen from his book “Reaching Out,” who said, “Hospitality means primarily the creation of free space where the stranger can enter and become a friend.” 

Nonetheless, ethnic dust-ups do occur.

Andrew Jones, a bearded professor with a cherubim smile, recalls a student posting a link to a Russian state news source on social media. His students wanted to challenge the article using ideas from Jones’s persuasion and propaganda class. The students organized a forum that attracted nearly 100 students and Jones and Contemporary Communication Chair Mike Finch led a discussion with others on ways to engage the media thoughtfully.

“And it worked,” Jones said, wearing his whimsical grin. “The reason we don’t have more ethnic dust-ups on campus is most likely because sophomores, juniors and seniors are actually teaching freshman the media literacy curriculum and through events they organize and run through co-curricular events.”

Jones went on to say, “While Council of Christian Colleges and Universities students in the U.S. are learning to doubt their faith, students at LCC International in the EU are learning what faith means in an increasingly global world.”  

Jones is one of several professors who began careers at LCC without a paycheck. He believes in the mission. Within a year, LCC put Jones and his wife, an English professor, on the payroll and now his office is the nexus of deliberations on academic matters and more.

Like any organization, the university has its share of slights. For instance, I once accidentally offended one of my European counterparts when I confused the person, a Lithuanian, for a Russian.     

But it also feels a bit like the pilgrims on the way to Canterbury. Faculty and staff come from wildly different cultures, but they have one goal: to make that journey and learn about each other along the way.

Michael Ray Smith is the distinguished visiting professor of journalism at LCC International University.