A Penny for My Thoughts
For all my life, I’ve prided myself as a storyteller. It was only when I started writing the way that I speak that I realized that writing is for everyone.
The Origins of Our Displacement
This piece is an inquiry into how education shapes identity formation and feelings of exile and lack of belonging. It was written as the final essay for Media and Identity (NYU MCC-1019) in Spring 2022.
Since its inception, universities have served as apparatuses to cultivate citizens and as centers of knowledge production, with each successive form of education being born out of the critique of its predecessor (Dirlik 51). If these institutions are the heart of knowledge acquisition and instruments of globalization, who decides what subjects and disciplines are taught? Why are American and European models positioned at the forefront of higher education? In turn, how does the pursuit of these transnational higher education systems influence individual identity formation? In this essay, I will explore education as a lens to analyze how identity formation is deeply enmeshed with education systems. Ultimately, feelings of exile and lack of belonging can be traced back to existing models of the education system in which we find ourselves.
The concept of the university was established as early as the 11th century as a place where scholars could meet and further their studies. The current model of university originates in the 19th century, as exemplified by the universities of Berlin, Paris, Oxford, and Cambridge. Transformed by vision science, the prototype would spread from Europe and go global along with the European colonization of the world (Dirlik 52). However, this paradigm would change in response to increased globalization driven by capitalism and nationalism. The rise of capitalism, with the United States as a global leader, initiated the now-familiar globalization process.
In “Postcolonialism and Globalization in Education”, Fazal Rizvi warns about the risk of overlooking the history of globalization rather than a set of naturalized economic processes operating in a reified fashion:
Unless this [understanding]is done, globalization will [become] dissociated from its roots in European projects of imperialism and colonialism, which continue to shape the lives of people within not only the developing but also the developed world, with a global geometry of power that is inherently unequal (50).
Although the effects of globalization have taken on a universalism definition, it is important to acknowledge that this is a direct result of imperialistic structures of power (Rizvi 47). The current model of education is directly influenced from the European core to the Southern periphery—an expansion outwards towards the rest of the world. The seemingly natural relationship between globalization and educational systems is not ahistorical and apolitical but born out of the structural conditions under which it was formed. When we analyze contemporary ideological constructions of globalization, it is important to understand it historically rather than as the direct product of the concurrent economic processes.
The term “globalization” has been utilized to refer to the process in which distant parts of the world have been connected in a historically unprecedented way; in essence, it is the label given to the social, political, and economic forces that produce the characteristic conditions of contemporary existence (Rizvi 48). Therefore, through this process, the term enables the thought of the world as one singular, shared space, connected through these various forces.
As a main driving force of the influx of interconnection in this world, globalization contributes to the steady rise of cross global exchanges. This process presented the opportunity for foreign exchange students to pursue their higher education in elsewhere parts of the world. Thus, education has transformed into a global economic enterprise. Every year, international students take rigorous courses and standardized exams in hopes of gaining entry to a North American or European university. In the United States alone, over 900,000 international students were studying at American institutions in the 2020-2021 school year (IIE Open Doors). The perceived value of foreign education is believed to give one an advantage– to set oneself apart from the competition back home. These foreign institutions have become vessels for moving up the social ladder. Although higher education faces pressures from the globalization forces in economy and culture, it is also an agent of globalization (Dirlik).
Yet, as an attendee in one of these seemingly grand institutions, a top 30 university according to US News reports, I have had many instances where I had to reflect and examine why is it that we uphold these beliefs? These questions prompted my long-awaited introspection: how and why I have fallen subject to upholding and perpetuating this dogma?
The very process that allows us to transcend beyond physical borders has subjected us to a new form of the border—an imagined community where our identity forms. Although the new community is imagined, it does not mean it is not real. The imagined implied here indicates that this is not a natural but rather a man-made process. The members of this newly emerged community consist of students who are educated under this system. The ongoing globalization process is influencing the internationalization of education in that it breeds a uniform, standardized education. The two different yet mutually constituent forces have grave implications on the identity formation of such students.
Identity formation is a deeply personal topic of interest for many, in that it involves the analysis of the various influences and experiences that contribute to shaping an individual. Some of these experiences are imposed upon rather than taken up by the individual. The identity of an individual is as much about self-making as it is about the position an individual takes in the social systems (Georgiou). Questions such as “How did we end up the way we are?” arise from discussions of how identities are formed.
In class, we explored themes of exile and lack of belonging, which prompted my reflection on my identity– an international student who has never felt more displaced while attending a world-renowned university abroad. Moreover, we explored the interconnectedness between identity, nationality, and the nation-state. This unique relationship between those three terms has allowed me to elucidate my own experience with exile and the imagined community I find through being “out of place”. I started to trace these feelings to my upbringing, specifically during my early adolescence— a very transformative stage of life.
My feelings of exile and the community I found through it resonated with Edward Saïd’s “Reflections on Exile”. In the essay, Saïd describes exile as closely tied to the age-old practice of banishment (144), where one is forcibly removed from the home and cannot return. He also defines exile as not a matter of choice but rather something “you are either born into it, or it happens to you” (146). The exile does not experience the same privilege as non-exiles—who are born in a place, knowing that they can stay and live in it, as well as be a part of it. The Otherness of the exile will always follow them as it is a deeply integrated element of their identity; it is difficult to escape from something you feel daily.
I am aware of my identity as an alien residing in a foreign country. Even when that country is made up of people of various ethnic groups and backgrounds. When a stranger looks at me, I understand that I will be perceived as a minority—an Asian woman who could be a first-generation American or at least an immigrant, but not someone who is native or “really” American. My accent is American, but I am not.
Although I came to reside in an alien country voluntarily, for academic reasons, I feel as though the label of an “exile” is inseparable from my identity. I find myself experiencing “dispossession with no recourse” Etel Adnan recounts in “Voyage, War, and Exile”. The person in exile will always feel helpless yet they are unable to recuperate from those feelings. This form of living exile is the violent and involuntary loss of all the living symbols of one’s identity (Adnan 8). For context, Adnan recounts a time when she revisits her hometown of Beirut, the city she left as a voyager and came back in exile. Her family fled the city at the height of the Lebanese civil war; one that took a severe toll on the city.
I share similar sentiments when I revisit my hometown of Shanghai. Despite growing up in Shanghai, I feel a sense of disconnect when I am in the city. I am hyperaware of my Otherness in moments of interacting with locals and feel a sense of unease when I must converse in my native Mandarin. I grew up speaking the language at home, but I speak English most of the time. I remember experiencing periods when my supposed mother tongue felt distant and foreign, especially if I did not use the language frequently. It was almost ironic how I felt out of touch with my heritage despite being in the motherland. I contribute this to the environment in which I grew up.
In elementary school, we were discouraged to speak languages other than English while we were in class. This experience was parallel to Adnan’s childhood education under a French-occupied educational system. As an adult, Adnan writes in two languages: French and English, neither being her original language, Arabic. However, in the recounts of her upbringing, Adnan revisits a time when schoolchildren would face repercussions for speaking their native Arabic, even during recreation times. Language is a critical component of culture and identity; it is what allows a culture to stay in existence. In addition, it is closely tied to nationalism and colonialism.
The account of Adnan’s childhood education is an example of how there is no language without domination; the imposition of a certain language over another causes the experience of exile from culture while being in the homeland. In her instance, the French language was imposed on the children of her generation. As there were no alternatives to the colonial school; none of which were big enough to house even a fraction of the student population at the time. The acquisition of the French language as the dominant language of education and teaching has led to Adnan’s separation from her cultural past, and exile from her essential language. Consequently, she laments she and others have become “[exiled] from the history of [their] parents and ancestors and projected into a mental world totally alien to our environment” (10). The detrimental effect of this forced language acquisition perpetuates the erroneous belief that the colonizer was doing the colonized a favor. In turn, a young population emerged with the doctrine that nothing in their native language was worthy of knowing and the sense of superiority they felt to those who did not receive the same education. The real tragedy was not that children were taught French, but that it was taught as a first language, one that was superior to the native Arabic.
Similarly, the education I received in an international school made me and my fellow international school classmates feel superior to the local kids. The education we received in English allowed us to be closer to Whiteness, and the proximity to Whiteness was equated to a higher position on the social ladder. Here, the sense of “us” versus “them” is strengthened. The international education that celebrated diversity and prided itself on being culturally diverse is the very same one that shuns anyone who does not speak English. The emergence of English as a global language has roots dating back to 18th-century colonialism that aided in the dissemination of the language (Altbach); coincidentally, the modern university began emerging around the same time.
In this globalized era, the dominance of a language like English, indicates trends and influences in social, economic, and political realms that are increasingly coming from English-speaking countries, particularly the United States. The trend of worldwide branch campuses of universities for the most part utilizes English as the dominant language of teaching. These branch campuses promote the spread of the English language, curriculum, and ideas of the North while displacing the national models of the host country in the South (Altbach). In a way, the shared common language can be seen as beneficial in connecting the world together. However, the increased influence from the English-speaking part of the world signifies that there is greater importance or weight on the norms, values, methodologies, and orientations of these academic communities of these centers (Altbach). As a result, local publications will not be as highly regarded, despite holding the same caliber as those from the English-speaking areas. The slippery slope tendency of globalization to promote homogeneity of thoughts and ideas implies the decreasing diversity of methodology and themes in scholarship.
When students are nurtured in a space that is dominated by one language, for instance, English, there is a need to abide by its norms and standards. By doing so, we disregard the local form of education in pursuit of the foreign one. The international school I attended closely followed a private American school education system. The Advanced Placement courses prepared students for the annual, standardized Advanced Placement Exams by College Board. The educational system under which I was educated fostered a community of students who feel a great disconnect from their native culture. After being subjected to more than 15 years of international education, I have been brought up to be distant from my culture, in pursuit of becoming a global citizen. The tradeoff of being a “global citizen” is that one can never truly call one place home—we have become the children of the world. It is something I will learn to live and make peace with. I have grown to resist to urge to overcome this feeling; one that only those who are not at home will understand. When I talk about my lack of belonging, my fellow international friends also share this struggle. Many of my classmates carry American citizenship, yet they don’t feel obligated to call the United States their home. Those who do not have a strong sense of home can also relate to this sentiment. When I speak to friends who are children of immigrants, they understand the feeling of not truly belonging to a place they call home. Through my research, I have been able to better understand the origins and contexts of which my feelings of exile and lack of belonging have spawned. The globalization of education creates a new sense of community, one made up of the displaced and exiles. From the end of my research, I have concluded that we have not gotten here naturally, yet it is the result of the globalization of the world at work.
Me, celebrating my fifth birthday with my fellow international school classmates.
Work Cited:
Adnan, Etel. “Voyage, War and Exile.” Al-’Arabiyya, vol. 28, 1995, pp. 5–16, http://www.jstor.org/stable/43192725. Accessed 3 March 2022.
Altbach, Philip G. “The Imperial Tongue: English as the Dominating Academic Language.” Economic and Political Weekly, vol. 42, no. 36, 2007, pp. 3608–11, http://www.jstor.org/stable/40276356. Accessed 15 May 2022.
“Enrollment Trends.” IIE Open Doors / Enrollment Trends, 15 Nov. 2021, https://opendoorsdata.org/data/international-students/enrollment-trends/.
Rizvi, Fazal. “CHAPTER 3: Postcolonialism and Globalization in Education.” Counterpoints, vol. 369, 2009, pp. 46–54, http://www.jstor.org/stable/42980380. Accessed 13 May 2022.
Said, Edward W. Reflections on Exile: And Other Essays, Granta, London, 2001, pp. 137–149.