When international students are mentioned, the tone is often negative, Hicham El Ouahabi observes. ““They”, the international students, count as the problem and “we” suffer as a result.”
A recent poll conducted by six independent university journals exposes a harrowing reality: International students feel less welcome in the Netherlands. When they arrived, more than 70 percent felt welcome, but that has now dropped to just 55 percent. “I have worked in four countries on three different continents, and this is the institution where I have felt least welcome,” one respondent told me. Another said: “I am disgusted by the populist talk circulating around the country.”
Frankly, I am not at all surprised by these findings. And I'm not an international student. Nobody should be surprised. Anyone familiar with the news coverage and debate about internationalization and international students could have anticipated this development a long time ago. It results from the language used when this topic is discussed, which has now been partially confirmed. Almost half of the participants cite the increasing negative tone in Dutch politics toward foreigners as the reason.
Let me start by saying that striving for better regulation of the influx, or as it is fashionably called these days, “getting a grip,” is not the issue. Rather the problem lies in the way we talk about internationalization and international students. For example, there are prominent politicians, administrators, and critics who cry out that they want to “reduce” the intake of international students to throw a lifeline to so-called “unlucky students” or to increase the chances of non-international students getting a roof over their heads. This (un)consciously encourages an us-versus-them feeling. “They” count as the problem and “we” suffer as a result.
The inevitable result is the feeling of being unwanted. Language is powerful. Words matter. The way international students are spoken and written about is ultimately reflected in reality. It has more impact than we might initially think. There is hardly a greater torment than the feeling of being unwelcome while striving for nothing more than to peacefully gain knowledge in the hope of making the world just a little bit nicer.
As I was trying to find the final words for this column, I noticed that next to me, international students were speaking Italian, their native language, while working together on a group assignment. Despite doubts, I decided to do it anyway. “How do you say Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year in Italian?" I asked them. That saved me another few sessions on the Duolingo app.
Buon Natale e felice anno nuovo!