International students, do we, or don’t we?
Dr. RituParna Roy
Sat Aug 22 2020 12:00:00 GMT+1200 (New Zealand Standard Time)
Dr. RituParna Roy
August 22nd, 2020
International students, do we, or don’t we?
The question will inevitably reemerge as Auckland lifts back out of level 3 restrictions. Recently our university vice-chancellors along with former Prime Minister John Key stirred the debate, expressing an urgent need for international students to be allowed back in.
Hundreds of millions in revenue is at stake. Without the borders reopening to students it seems our business-minded universities have settled on austerity as their interim policy response.For the academic precariat, that means less work for more people and usually those that can least afford it.
The current student-border discussion is predominantly centered on the health and economic well-being of New Zealanders. Absent is any appreciation for the lived experience of our international students, and in particular what was not right before a menacing virus decimated the balance sheets of our universities.
Arriving in Auckland 10 years ago to embark on postgraduate study, I obtained two degrees, built a network of friends, married a kiwi and decided to stay. It has not always been a pleasant experience.
One week after arriving I got a welcome not uncommon for many international students, “F___ off, Indian b____”, when asking a group of teenagers for directions at New Lynn train station.
Great, I thought, I’m not even an Indian!
Meanwhile, the cost of pursuing a Masters was over $30,000 in course fees. Though barely enough to rent a home in Auckland for 12 months, my tuition costs alone were the equivalent of a small fortune back in Bangladesh.
I understood the cost of studying here, though I was less aware of the outrageous cost of living. Consequently, I borrowed thousands more from my extended family, while my parents poured in their entire life savings.
Let that be the first myth to dispel; most international students are not well off. Like myself, they probably belong to the aspirational middle-class of their home countries. While our world-class universities in Aotearoa are precisely that, we should not fool ourselves into believing that they are the first choice of global elites and their offspring. Those affluent enough are probably headed to Harvard or Cambridge not Auckland or Waikato.
Over-reliance on international student revenue is also questionable from an ethical standpoint, it incentivises universities to extract the highest possible dollar for the least amount of cost. When these students do arrive, it is often made worse by landlords and employers who prey on ignorance and vulnerability.
For me, survival in Auckland meant working in a convenience store for what ended up being much less than the minimum wage. Luckily, I moved on to work as a university tutor and have since managed to survive by working one contract to the next.
With much of this contract work disappearing next year, there is every chance I will be unemployed, that is despite working for almost a decade across three different New Zealand universities. Without a university affiliation I will be unable to access academic literature, conduct research and contribute to my field.
But I am by no means the worst off.
Currently I am teaching a cohort of mostly international students who managed to arrive before the border closed. I worry about them. As credit lines tighten across Asia, many are likely stuck with the unenviable choice of working long hours in New Zealand without being adequately remunerated, or returning home to countries ravaged by COVID-19.
Austerity measures earmarked by our universities will hit these students the hardest. It is not just less work inside the sector but what this work represents i.e., language, academic and learning support services that are critical for international students to keep pace with their domestic counterparts.
The second myth is that international students come here on a pathway to residency. It cost me thousands of dollars, a bit of luck, and a whole lot of patience – even a Ph.D. obtained in New Zealand did not guarantee me residency. Instead, thousands of international students return home each year. Some have become disillusioned while others had no intention of hanging around, especially when it meant being routinely discriminated against by members of the public.
The most optimistic view put forward regarding the tertiary sector is that international student enrollments will rebound due to our relative success in managing COVID-19. Some of these arguments have been naive, particularly those which suggest international students would be interested in staying abroad and embarking on wholly online programs. University is as much about building networks through socialization than it is about content learning, these are not experiences which are readily acquired through a zoom call.
Such optimism also belies an unfortunate reality. For many years now, our international students have been taken for granted. They are treated as cash cows by universities who charge obscene sums to back-fill the chronic under-funding of domestic students by successive governments. We should not be fooled in to thinking that brand-New Zealand is immune to criticism on these matters. If we continue to treat international students poorly, there is a risk of losing their siblings to the world-class institutions of other countries.
So my plea moving forward is simple. As we inch toward a post-COVID reality, we expand on the ‘kindness’ narrative set our by our government so that it applies to everyone, including our most recent arrivals.
Dr Rituparna Roy is the International Equity Advisor for the Tertiary Education Action Group Aotearoa (TEAGA), she currently teaches postgraduate research methods at AUT.