Embracing the Journey of an International Professional

2 August 20253 August 2025adminLeave a comment

🌍 Here’s my story of how I became an international professional.

My life motto: Carpe Diem

“Carpe diem. Seize the day. Make your lives extraordinary.”

The quote comes from the film Dead Poets Society, spoken by the character John Keating (played by the late Robin Williams), a teacher inspiring his students to pursue their passion and do something great. I watched the film when I was just 12 years old, ready to enter high school, and in those years of schooling and later on at university. I found myself drawn to exploration, self-discovery, and defying expectations. That spirit remains a driving force in my life and career today.

It represents more than just motivation. Carpe Diem speaks to my desire to be bold and use my talents, to be brave and make a difference, and to believe that whatever I do serves a greater purpose beyond my own needs.

My identity: A Chinese Singaporean

I was born and raised in Singapore, a multicultural city-state and former British colony, where English is the main language of education and public life. In multicultural Singapore, Chinese, Malay, Indian, Eurasian and other ethnic communities live side-by-side, and so I was part of a social fabric of cultural and linguistic diversity from an early age,

As a Chinese Singaporean, I grew up speaking English at home, school, and with friends, while also learning Chinese and Mandarin as a second language under Singapore’s bilingual policy. Our official mother tongue was assigned based on ethnicity and was a second language by default. Singapore’s bilingual policy has evolved over the years with a current focus on reviving interest and proficiency in our ethnic languages. However, among my generation, we were impressed upon the social and economic importance of mastering English, a gateway to the Western world and prosperity.

The particular ideology, policy and pragmatism of my upbringing have no doubt contributed to my strong grounding in both Western and Asian cultures. This has enabled me to navigate global spaces with confidence and cross-cultural fluency. My language and cultural identity shapes how I see the world and informs my work as an international professional and career coach committed to cross-cultural understanding. I understand what it’s like to look ‘Asian,’ sound ‘Western,’ and yet not fully belong in either category.

What does it mean to be international?

My sense of being ‘international’ began during a university course on the history of the English language. I was introduced to World Englishes and the debate on who ‘owns’ English. I was struck by how much judgment people receive based on their accent, race, or skin colour, even in multicultural contexts, and the sharp division and discrimination between native and non-native English speakers.

In all my youthful defiance, I told myself: No country or accent shall determine how I use English. I shall be an international speaker of English!

This deep desire to challenge the barriers and divisions imposed by so-called pure, prestigious or better versions of English later shaped my Master of TESOL and PhD study. The debate on who owns English was re-ignited through my essay on Re-imagining the Non-Native Speaker. In my PhD research on international learners, one of my research agenda items was to dispel the deficit framing of non-native English speakers.

In corporate settings, I realised how many brilliant professionals around the world feel undermined not by lack of skill, but by cultural codes, accent bias, and the hidden hierarchies of language.

A 2013 British Council report states that English “now belongs to the world and increasingly to non-native speakers – who today far outnumber native speakers.” Indeed, the English language continues to evolve and it continues to serve as a global lingua franca, and yet old habits die hard. Our accent (and skin colour) continue to draw judgment from native and non-native English speakers alike. Just read the news about the racist backlash against Air New Zealand’s new CEO Nikhil Ravishankar.

It feels like contemporary notions of ‘inclusivity’ that celebrate and embrace differences are individual beliefs at best, and very slippery and airy concepts at worst. And I wonder if ‘international’ is a similar contemporary notion – Is it something that is celebrated and embraced? Or will it reveal its true colours when it is put to the test? And how much is one person’s experience of being international positively or negatively affected by the languages they speak, the accent of their spoken English, their passport, and the shade of their skin they were born with?

How to thrive as an international professional

The complex realities of being international are discomforting, but I’m not here to dwell in the discomfort. Instead, I aim to raise awareness and spark conversation through writing. I’ve previously written about my experiences and tensions in looking, feeling and being different:

✍️ Living and thriving with labels: A journey towards cultural intelligence

✈️ The Diasporic Resident

🧭 How NOT to be a Migrant

The moral of my stories? Carpe diem. Seize the day. Make your lives extraordinary.

I hope discomfort gives your data. They can show us what still needs dismantling—and where we have power to influence change. So perhaps it’s time to stop scrolling or eye rolling and start thinking, feeling and doing things differently.

My coaching approach: Supporting international careers

As a career coach for international professionals, I’m here to help you, however you define yourself as ‘international’, to do these things:

🔍 Discover Your Strengths
Clarify who you are and how you want to contribute to the world.

❤️ Act With Purpose
Move beyond random applications and focus on how you add value.

🎯 Build Career Confidence
Master tools and strategies to manage manage your career on your own terms—for life!

An invitation to international professionals

If you’re navigating a career change, adapting to a new cultural environment, or exploring your identity as an international professional, this space is for you.

🌍 Learn more about my career journey here.

🔗 Subscribe on LinkedIn, or on Substack, follow along, let’s make our lives extraordinary—wherever in the world we are.

Cross-cultural / Education / Higher Education / international education / Internationalisation

International education – Not just an experience but the possibility of a new life

22 September 202110 March 2025admin1 Comment

I’ve been reading the draft policy statement on high-value international education in New Zealand which aims to define what ‘high value’ means and minimise risks. Reading between the lines, the policy is responding to the growth of ‘low value’ and ‘high risk’ international education in the past decade or longer, most visible in the sub-degree courses with majority international student enrolments, marketed by off-shore agents as study pathways to residency. The message seems to be international education must not be seen as a ticket to residency, or some sort of back-door entry into the land of milk and honey.

Low value, high risk edu-migration

The international students who come through this promised study to residency route may not have optimal attitudes toward study as they have their eye on the prize of migration. But if they’ve been sold a dream, including the ‘package deal’ of work rights as a student, minimum wage, and jobs in demand, then study is really a means to an end – legitimised by a burgeoning edu-migration business and success stories.

The ‘low value’ of this type of international education translates into misaligned academic goals between the institution and student, but actually very high value in terms of international student fees earned, and the investment the student puts towards the edu-migration course of action, with immediate gains for agents. The ‘high risk’ is played out in the over-reliance of institutions on fee-paying students as a business model, blurred lines between legitimate academic programmes and programmes designed to encourage unrealistic study to residence pathways, but more alarmingly, the labour exploitation of international students.

A news report from 2016 illustrates the ‘low value’ and ‘high risk’ type of international education that I’m describing. The focus is on labour exploitation of an international student but the backstory of why and how the student gets to New Zealand, and the survival issues he is constantly facing, demonstrate the tragic consequences of market forces and policy loopholes. Only recently was there a Temporary Migrant Worker Exploitation review which was prompted in part by numerous cases of labour exploitation of international students. This has resulted in new measures of greater compliance and enforcement, but also a practical way-out for those caught in these situations (there’s a new visa to support migrants to leave exploitative situations quickly and remain lawfully in New Zealand).

The new draft policy statement

So it comes as no surprise that the draft policy now refutes the suggestion that international students can take low level courses as a way to gain residency as that ‘weakens the integrity of the immigration system’. Instead, international students should be coming to New Zealand for “high-quality programmes in New Zealand’s areas of excellence”, have sufficient academic ability to succeed, enjoy their educational experience, and then what? With the idea that guaranteed pathways to residency is somewhat reprehensible, we are left to assume that genuine international students who are focused on studying should be expected to leave New Zealand after they finish.

Putting aside the scenario of rogue agents selling the international education residency dream, this expectation seems unrealistic. As a former international student, and having done research in the area and moved in international education circles for several years, there is an implicit if not explicit hope among many students to at least entertain the possibility of making a new life in their destination country. In fact, it is the possibility of working and living in the destination country that makes the country an attractive study destination. The 2019 IDP international student survey results bear out these sentiments, revealing Canada as the most desired destination. This is no surprise given Canada’s immigration policy has been closely linked to international education for many years, with the latest news reiterating and strengthening that stance – a welcome signal for many prospective students across the globe.

Fortunately, the piece on high-value education does not drop the ball on study to residence pathways, but there are clearly favoured groups: i) those in in sub-degree programmes that are linked to domestic labour needs, and ii) post-graduate and professional degree students “who increase New Zealand’s long-term human capital and labour productivity”. So reading between the lines once again, if I’m doing an arts or some non-professional degree or a sub-degree in a subject that has not been classified as meeting domestic needs, I’m not valuable enough to be considered a potential worker or migrant. And I should go home once I’m done with my study.

Looking ahead: Challenges and opportunities

While specific criteria for ‘high-value’ international students may be justified, I wonder if we’re missing out on those ‘undefined’ categories of international students who may be pursuing various areas of interest and who may prove to be just as valuable human capital in the long run. If they are able to find meaningful work in New Zealand after graduation, what’s our attitude towards them? If our population stagnation stats and projections remain true (eg, two-thirds of the country’s regions would be in a state of population stagnation or decline by 2040), then perhaps we should expand our criteria for study to residence pathways, and actually be upfront about study to residence pathways..

More critically, however, international education policies, immigration policies, labour needs, and population trends are so intertwined that they need to work together to inform a robust international education vision and roadmap for the future. No doubt there has been ongoing research attempting to pull together these various strands. Some reports I’ve come across include:

i) Moving places: Destinations and earnings of international graduates published by the Ministry of Education in February 2017

ii) Immigration and Labour Market Outcomes of International Tertiary Students published in March 2018 by the Ministry of Business, Innovation & Employment

iii) What happens to international students who remain in New Zealand after getting a degree? published in August 2021 by Universities New Zealand

I look forward to reading more about how we can match up international education with growth industries and look further ahead rather than just meeting immediate labour shortage needs.

A ‘high-value international education’ will need to address a range of aspirations held by prospective students. While many international students may only be interested in an overseas education experience and no more, there are just as many, if not more, who are deeply invested in the possibility of study to residence pathways. In both cases, I think demonstrating strong links between a New Zealand education and meaningful work opportunities, whether in New Zealand or elsewhere, is going to be critical. And if we are serious about having international students contribute to our current and future labour needs and population growth, then we need to be fully cognizant of push-pull factors, manage expectations, and think global and long term.

Cross-cultural / Internationalisation / Professional Identity / Research

Migrants: Money or multiculturalism, cash or culture, productivity or people?

12 July 202010 March 2025adminLeave a comment

I have been, and continue to be, troubled by how (im)migrants are portrayed by the media, and by extension, viewed by readers of media, and one could argue, on the basis of how society has made up its mind on the topic. To put it crudely, migrants are valued more for their economic contributions than the multiple cultures and histories they bring with them. All other nuances are lost in the need for quick conclusions in a busy and distracted world.

The economic migrant is a fairly recent construct, spurred by the bigger constructs of globalisation and international trade (see edited book by Trlin, Spoonley, and Bedford (2005) for articles on immigration policy in the 2000s). No doubt migrants and the receiving country are strongly attracted to each other on the potential and promise of financial reward. For migrants, however, the reward is not simply and purely economic. From my own experiences and insider observations, reward can be construed as short-term gains (better jobs, higher pay), longer-term returns (better opportunities for their children), and are often intermingled with other motivations ranging from lifestyle upgrades to escaping political uncertainty. (See Castelli (2008) for an insightful overview of different types of migrants.)

How does one measure ‘contribution’ of migrants and multiculturalism if not by the sure and firm way of dollars and cents?

For the receiving country, one could also argue that the reward is not simply and purely economic. Migrants contribute to the cultural diversity of the nation and enrich the social lives of locals and all residents in the country. The statement I’ve just made is unfortunately more rhetoric than real (something grandiose and admirable enough to be valid), a description, perhaps, of an ideal world that exists in policy and organisational statements signalling inclusion. How does one measure ‘contribution’ of migrants and multiculturalism if not by the sure and firm way of dollars and cents?

In the wake of post-covid rationalisation of immigration, the economic argument still holds strong, if not stronger than before. In a Newsroom article, Professor Steven Poelhekke re-hashes the classic argument for migrants in New Zealand – they do the jobs locals shun (while locals learn how to be more productive), and bring in innovation and patent worthy ideas. The article highlights two extreme values of immigration: low unskilled labour versus high-calibre talent – and appears to welcome them in equal measure.

Another article from the Financial Times reiterates the economic argument but favours one group over the other. It builds its case around Foriegn Minister Winston Peters’ claims that the pandemic has “exposed the problems of building an economy on consumption driven by immigration.” Peters is of the view that relying on high immigration rates to contribute to GDP is ‘unsustainable’ because of the pressure it places on infrastructure, health and education. Instead, New Zealand should focus on a select group of highly skilled immigrants essential to wealth creation.

Interestingly, the FT article contrasts Peters’ worldview with that of Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern, supposedly “a great advocate of a multicultural New Zealand” by demonstrating hospitality towards migrants. However, apart from the one mention of ‘multicultural’, nothing else is said about multiculturalism. Thus nothing much is known about so-called advocacy for multicultural New Zealand, if indeed there is a specific rationalisation of immigration on the basis of creating a multicultural nation. (Or if my suspicions are right, it’s just too tricky to define and measure.)

… the predominant rationalisation for migrants is that they serve the receiving country’s economic purposes. And in a post-covid recovery state of mind, that surely must be the most important reason.

So putting the two articles side by side, immigration or migration, whether you stick strictly to the definitions of immigration as permanent, and migration as temporary or more mobile, the predominant rationalisation for migrants is that they serve the receiving country’s economic purposes. And in a post-covid recovery state of mind, that surely must be the most important reason.

The case for multiculturalism, while elusive, is suggested in Professor Paul Spoonly’s article for HR practitioners titled ‘Why ethnicity diversity is essential in a post-Covid world’. Spoonley argues that there is an ongoing need for a migrant workforce by providing both economic and cultural perspectives on immigration, but highlights that the cultural perspective is of greater significance.

The economic case for migrants can be summed up as: migration numbers will go down and there is an understandable shift to up/re-skill local workers, but there will still be a need for migrant workers as we can’t fill the gap quickly and efficiently enough.

The cultural perspective that comes after, however, is not strictly a case for ‘multicultural’ New Zealand through immigration, but rather, alludes to the fact that immigration in the past has contributed to a multicultural New Zealand and therefore “ethnic diversity is a major consideration in terms of the current and future economy and labour force of this country.”

Unfortunately, the way ethnic diversity is framed is nebulous – as a ‘consideration’ to promote the ‘viability’ of businesses. What conclusion is one to draw from these words? Reading Spoonley’s argument more closely and inferring the ‘unspoken’, I conclude that companies should hire on the basis of ethnic diversity as opposed to hiring based on the predominant Euro/Anglo culture, and going beyond the existing ethnic diversity policies regarding Māori and Pacific employees. ‘Asian’ is mentioned once as a characteristic of diversity and so if one were to pick that up, that’s one specific group of people you should consider hiring. And the reason for choosing ‘ethnic diversity’? It makes better business sense!

So once again we come back to the tiresome argument, however true and trite, of ‘money makes the world go round’.

So once again we come back to the tiresome argument, however true and trite, of ‘money makes the world go round’. Migrants are good for the economy, whether high or low value migrants, and if migrants have made us more diverse, then we want to make sure we serve our migrant populations and earn their money.

I hope this provokes us into thinking more about (im)migration and (im)igrants; what the big nebulous words of ‘globalisation’, ‘ethnic diversity’ and ‘multiculturalism’ (to name a few) actually mean to us in our daily lives; and be challenged to think ‘multiculturally’ when it’s easier not to.

Cross-cultural / Higher Education / international education / international students / Internationalisation

Language rights, agency, and cross-cultural understanding in international education

29 March 201910 March 2025adminLeave a comment

This post was originally written for Ipu Kererū Blog of the New Zealand Association for Research in Education on 4 March 2019. In light of the Christchurch tragedy that took place on 15 March 2019, I’m re-posting it on my own website with a renewed sense of urgency to champion linguistic and cultural diversity.

International Mother Language Day has been observed on 21 February every year since its establishment by the United Nations in 2000. In New Zealand, the day is recognised and celebrated by organisations such as The New Zealand Federation of Multicultural Councils and The Office of Ethnic Communities, as well as schools and universities. In countries with migrant populations, recognising people’s mother tongues or heritage languages upholds respect for linguistic and cultural diversity. According to the UN, International Mother Language Day aims to do just this – to “inspire solidarity based on understanding, tolerance and dialogue.”

Understanding, tolerance and dialogue?

In contrast to the positive messages surrounding International Mother Language Day, the recent debacle at Duke University (North Carolina, USA) over Chinese international students speaking in their native language in the lounge area appears to contravene the very tenets of linguistic diversity. An assistant professor at Duke had emailed all first- and second-year biostatistics graduate students with a message directed at international (and, obviously, Chinese) students. An email excerpt quoted by several news reports reads:

“To international students, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE keep these unintended consequences in mind when you choose to speak in Chinese in the building. I have no idea how hard it has been and still is for you to come to the US and have to learn in a non-native language. As such, I have the upmost [sic] respect for what you are doing. That being said, I encourage you to commit to using English 100% of the time when you are in Hock or any other professional setting.”

The “unintended consequences” the assistant professor mentioned refer to students being disadvantaged during internship and employment opportunities because of the their apparent lack of interest to improve their English. Another possible consequence was that not conversing in a language that others could understand would be considered “impolite”.

A swift apology came from the dean to rectify the matter:

“To be clear: there is absolutely no restriction or limitation on the language you use to converse and communicate with each other. Your career opportunities and recommendations will not in any way be influenced by the language you use outside the classroom.”

The Duke Asian Students Association and the Duke International Association have condemned the discrimination against Chinese students, while external commentators have highlighted how the Duke incident is symptomatic of wider tensions in US academe with regard to international students. Their responses highlight xenophobic sentiments among faculty staff and the institution at large despite the goals of inclusivity and cross-cultural understanding of global higher education. Another point raised is that international students, as with all other students, have personal rights to communicate in the languages of their choice. Furthermore, speaking in one’s native tongue does not indicate a deficiency in English language abilities.

The value of native language use in tertiary settings

My doctoral research on international students’ brokering practices has demonstrated that using one’s native language can be tremendously helpful for succeeding academically. First-year Chinese university students’ help-seeking interactions with peers often utilised Mandarin Chinese, a language they had in common with their academic brokers. Within a shared linguistic and cultural communicative framework, students were empowered to ask a range of questions about assignments, test their assumptions, and occasionally display their epistemic authority. In other words, using one’s native language facilitated learner agency in ways that formal English-medium instruction could not.

The analytical insights on my participants’ brokering interactions were further enhanced by my own bilingual capabilities in English and Chinese. I was consciously engaged in acts of translation between raw data and analysis, but also between my participants’ informal learning experiences in Chinese, and my largely English monolingual readership. In this small way, I, too, wish to “inspire solidarity based on understanding, tolerance and dialogue” about international students in English-dominant universities such as Duke.

Priorities and responsibilities

With international education becoming an increasingly valuable export sector in New Zealand, it’s easy to see international students as cash cows rather than celebrating the linguistic and cultural diversity they represent. If international education is to fulfil the broader aims of global citizenship (as laid out in the NZ government’s long-term international education strategy), there needs to be a two-way street where local staff and students learn from international students as much as international students learn from them. Thus cross-cultural competency training is an urgent need, and so is a re-imagined curriculum that pays more than lip-service to the terms ‘international’ and ‘diversity’. To this end, may I invite multilingual educators and researchers to consider how you can play an important role in bridging cultural worlds.

The original blog post was re-posted with permission and can be found here.

Cross-cultural / Higher Education / international education / international students / Internationalisation / Learning

The ethical challenges of global connectivity – A response to Fazal Rizvi

1 January 201910 March 2025adminLeave a comment

A personal response to the opening keynote by Fazal Rizvi – ‘Global connectivity and its ethical challenges in education’ at the 29th ISANA International Education Association Conference, 5 December 2018, Sydney Masonic Centre, NSW, Australia.

Professor Fazal Rizvi, a name synonymous with ‘cosmopolitan identities’ in international education (see his 2005 paper), presented to international education practitioners, a dilemma in our contemporary times. International education, a notion that implies openness, cooperation, and collaboration, operates in a world that is moving towards ethno-nationalist sentiments.

US President Donal Trump encapsulates such sentiments with his calls for US protectionism, and so do the political landscapes in other countries such as Turkey, Hungary, Italy, Brazil, France, and India. Even while the world is becoming ever more connected, anti-globalisation is gaining traction, revealing the tensions and limitations of so-called ‘global connectivity’. There is a deep-seated fear of the potential loss of national sovereignty in the face of job loss and migrant communities encroaching on the spaces of local populations. On the other hand, globalisation offers little tangible benefit for the every(wo)man, and can be argued to favour the transnational elite, i.e., those who have the resources to engage in, and reap the rewards of, global mobility. Viewed as such, globalisation is, in fact, anti-democratic.

Rizvi invites us to understand the concerns of those against globalisation, and question if the assumptions and charges are valid, and how such perspectives can be harmful and unproductive. He also considers the question if there is really a fundamental binary between globalisation and nationalism. Specifically for international education practitioners, how do we get our students to respond to these competing claims of internationalisation and patriotism. Do these go together in parallel, in dialectical fashion, or can they only exist in conflict?

Rizvi also reminds us that nationalist sentiments are driven by both facts and emotion, and so it is important to address both the politics of global connectivity and affect. International education posits a global village of sorts, but the world as a whole is not a community in any real or concrete sense. He stresses that people are inherently social beings who wish to belong to a tangible and concrete community, and such desires undermine the abstract notions of globalisation.

Rizvi points out some facts of global connectivity:

Our economy has become dependant on global mobility as in tourism, trade, migration, and education.
Growing levels of intercultural exchange are seen in service economics.
Different cultures rub up against one another; ‘cosmopolitan’ cities become so because of tourists and international students.
Even if government policies appear to curb mobility, migrant populations will continue to increase as a result of complex individual choices.

The overriding sentiment towards these facts, however, is one of resentment. If globalisation used to represent some universal moral truth, then it is now up against those who demand specificity in their own moral truths (plural). While Rizvi proposed the concept of cosmopolitan thinking more than 10 years ago, he now recognises the need for new theories. He argues that cosmopolitanism and the associated images of corporations must be resisted as a universal value, but adopted as a way of engaging with everyday issues and conflicts.

Rizvi looks to education as the hope for such cosmopolitan thinking, in view of the failures of media which have become increasingly fractured, and of religion which appears to divide rather than bring people together. Education, and in particular, public education, has a crucial role to play in teaching people how to engage in ethical learning.

He puts forth the need for engaging in cosmopolitan thinking which views social identities as dynamic, and forces us to consider how we can live across differences. Students need to be taught how to be reflexive, that is, to be critically self-referential. We ask questions about why and how we do things, and learn how to work through contradictions. And before we can ask of our students to do so, we ourselves, need to be ethically reflexive practitioners in international education.

What I have summarised above is Rizvi’s call to arms for international education practitioners to recognise the competing forces of globalisation and protectionism, and to actively – reflexively – work against unproductive outcomes. Both intellectually and in practice, I am inspired to take up an ethical response to the current state of affairs. But before I can take on the giants of globalisation and protectionism, I want to respond to a nagging and troubling aspect of international education that is seldom discussed. My troubling thought can be summed up quasi-rhetorically – What is international about international education?

To paraphrase Betty Leask (2009), the presence of international students alone does not internationalise education, or foster intercultural interactions and understanding. To push the point further, using the term ‘international’ or ‘internationalise’ has the grammatical effect of modifying the nature of the noun that follows, but the meaning and significance of ‘international’ is lost in the everyday concerns, both petty and grand, of those who fall under the purview of ‘international education’. The overriding concern for education providers and student consumers alike is ‘return on investment’ (see Altbach & Knight, 2007).

As part of the system of global connectivity, international education is far more valued as a commodity than an opportunity for engaging meaningfully with cultural and social differences. In other words, international education itself is implicated in the unproductive forces of globalisation. Spending three days at the 2018 ISANA conference in Sydney , I observed well-meaning practitioners showcasing ‘best practices’ of meeting the linguistic and cultural needs and demands of students, but rarely highlighting any challenges related to interactions between international students and the host community. Walking around downtown Sydney, one of the leading Australian cities for international students, I saw rows and rows of East Asian shops (food, services, goods) patronised predominantly by East Asians, suggesting to me that at least this group of international students (who form the majority) can remain comfortably in their familiar spaces, without having to entertain the possibility of intercultural engagement.

I have only painted a broad stroke of what can be considered un-international in international education. Addressing learning and living needs, and helping international students adapt to new surroundings, are important responsibilities to be fulfilled by education providers. Often, national grouping of students are helpful (at least initially) to reduce the sense of isolation, and facilitate more efficient communication. However, beyond providing services and opening up ethnic-friendly spaces, there is also a need to proactively bring together different nationalities, including that of the host nation, to engage in conversation, let alone debate, about being ‘international’ and engaging in ‘post-cosmopolitan thinking’. Where there are international gatherings, at least in my own international student experience, they very rarely go beyond differences safe enough to chat over pizza and juice.

There seems to be an ongoing inertia or reluctance to challenge commonly held narratives of internationals (a common nominalisation for international students which is ironically divisive) who haven’t got enough English to save themselves, and need rescuing from their own deficits. My own research has attempted to thwart the deficit narratives by examining how co-ethnic/national interactions enhance informal academic learning through ‘peer brokers’ who are able to translate and interpret the Western/English demands of university curriculum in linguistically and culturally responsive ways. Through such brokering practices, students experience agency in their academic pursuits.

While one of my conclusions is to encourage sociolinguistically compatible interactions for enhancing student agency, another important implication of my research is the role of brokers who straddle two different cultural worlds. How might such individuals be viewed or view themselves as the missing link in intercultural engagement and difficult conversations about living ‘internationally’? Perhaps brokers who can switch between worldviews are potential bridge builders between the ‘internationals’ and ‘others’ / ‘sojourners’ and ‘hosts’, and eventually lead to alternative vocabulary we can use to describe those in and around international education.

If I were to take on that kind of a brokering role, I would start with difficult conversations. To consider how international education can rise up to the challenges globalisation and protectionism, we must firstly reckon with the ironies of, and tensions in, the global industry international education has become. We have to re-consider how ‘English language’ and ‘Western thought’ are both selling points and selling out in becoming global. And this is just the beginning of my ethical response.