The education sector has become increasingly saturated with international students over the years. For students coming from developing countries, going to university in North America or Europe is the opportunity of a lifetime — a chance at a successful life. Most spend their entire childhood and teen years working for an admissions spot, the spot that will help turn their lives around. Aside from the more obvious consequences of going abroad for an education like brain drain, there is a lot more to the picture. There are a plethora of burdens an international student takes on; for one they have recently become the target for money grabbing institutions, they struggle with their mental health, and they are also thousands of miles away from their home or place of comfort.. The COVID-19 pandemic has brought to light the ever-so apparent flaws within the education system. Institutions may advertise themselves as forward thinkers that care for their student body, but they are simply motivated by economic factors. Who’s not to say that an international education is just a glorification of Western perpetuations of what entails a world class education?
Going to a place of opportunity, in this case an accredited institution, may be a dream but the costs are not so dreamlike. The economic burden that international students are forced to carry is unrealistic. In fact, most post-secondary institutions gamble off the large sums of tuition expected from international students to fund their programs. Schools in North America range from $60,000 – $90,000 annually, and schools in the UK range from $30,000 – $70,000 annually. The degree of influence these institutions pertain to allows them to monopolize over their ability to impact someone’s future. Unless the student is from a wealthy background, such financial pressures either result in incomprehensible amounts of debt, or hinder them from the ability to pursue a quality education. As a result, many will feel pressured to get jobs during their time at university, and although this isn’t anything out of the ordinary, it is that much harder to find one as an international student. Frequently, they are limited by the restrictive nature of their study permit, or by other factors, such as language barriers. In Montreal, for instance, it is required for employees to be bilingual, specifically in French and English, to get part time or full-time employment. Barriers such as these limit their ability to alleviate various forms of financial pressures.
One of the more traditional concerns tied to studying abroad is the standard economic development one: brain drain. Essentially, brain drain is the migration of individuals seeking greater opportunities and a higher standard of living. A study conducted in 2000 found that migration from developing to developed nations makes up 45% of international migration. Higher education is one of the principal reasons for emigration from developing countries. Opportunity beckons elsewhere, but only few do return to their nation of origin in hopes of having a positive impact or in hopes of avoiding the oversaturated job markets in most developed countries. Although the concept of converting brain drain into wisdom gain theoretically seems alluring, in practice, it occurs less frequently.
When an international student “abandons” their country in pursuit of a quality education, it, in turn, perpetuates the poverty trap. As they become acquainted with the increased quality of life, they get enticed to remain in their country of study. This makes the whole concept of “wisdom gain” impossible to encounter, leaving most developing countries trapped within the poverty cycle, as those who can break it choose not to. Undoubtedly, that is a harsh narrative for international students to embody and is unjust for a multitude of reasons. It should not be their responsibility to carry the weight of poor governance and corrupt politics. Why should they have to worry about reconstructing the groundwork for society, when most domestic students in Western universities do not even have to consider it?
Moreover, by leaving home in pursuit of an international education, students are leaving behind a place of comfort and a place of mental relief. Many domestic students tend to struggle with the abrupt transition occurring, during crucial adolescent years, from high school to a post-secondary environment. In fact, many suffer from psychological disorders like anxiety and depression. These disorders tend to be amplified for international students because of the internalized disassociation they experience. The mental toll of adjusting to an entirely foreign environment, style of life, and culture is a constant battle of finding comfort in discomfort. The concept of starting a new life, one that is far different from one they were acquainted with, is a lot. With the stigma surrounding mental health, many of these concerns go unnoticed, and many students feel both ashamed and inept drawing attention to their internal struggles. Unfortunately, with the global pandemic, the level of mental health concerns has increased. It became even more difficult to transition. The adjustment of leaving behind family, finding new friends, acclimating with new climates, integrating into foreign societies, and formulating communities were almost impossible with the isolating nature of the pandemic. Most students experience a feeling of belonging in high school with the comfort of a tight knit community. This is lost during the transition period, making it harder to feel safe and welcomed. As a result of this discomfort, many undergo identity crises, and their mental health suffers from the sentiment of isolation.
The lack of accountability to support international students at the institutional level has repercussions. To some degree, it’s their prerogative to implement procedures that assist international students with the transitions. And although on the surface they publicize themselves as proactive, supportive institutions, the reality of it couldn’t be any further. At McGill University, they pride themselves on their extensive country list which illustrates the cultural diversity of the student body. For them international students are just another statistic, something that gives them a nice relative to other Canadian universities. With their priorities being bureaucracy-focused, they lack the active initiative and commitment necessary to accommodate their students, especially their international students. The extent of this issue was brought to light when international students were abandoned during the pandemic. They struggled to get study permits and were forced to find temporary housing when they were booted out of residences. It affected first years the most, as they were in the dark when it came to finding solutions. The institution insisted that a monthly e-mail briefly addressing mental health was good enough. In addition, the university’s mental health number to get in contact with a therapist consisted of long hours on hold and weeks until a potential appointment. It became clear the issue wasn’t of priority to those who sought out the services advertised.
Students who were studying remotely struggled to navigate universities’ online course portals, as they were expected to figure it out entirely on their own. The university, like many others, refused to cater to the reality of remote international students, expecting them to attend two A.M. conferences. Post-secondary education institutions expect their students to function according to a rigid structure that is often disconnected from the reality of online school. The system in place, where lectures happen real time, resulted in minimal participation and interest from the students’ end. The inequitable burden international students faced with time difference was not even remotely addressed by institutions.
For most international students, opportunity has become so culturally ingrained that the realities of chasing it are often ignored. The hefty financial burdens that they are presented with place them at a disadvantage comparative to domestic students. Inherently, they also feel this pressure to return to contribute to their local economies, but it is not their responsibility. The mental health struggles, which are rarely ever addressed, hinder their livelihoods, leaving them feeling trapped in a foreign environment. Although it should not be a surprise, credible institutions don’t even attempt to address these struggles. To them, international students are just money-making machines. So, we ask ourselves, is the high price of higher learning even worth it?
Edited by Naya Moser
I am in my second year at McGill University, currently pursuing a B.A. in Honours International Development Studies with a minor in Political Science. I serve as a staff writer and am interested in American politics, sustainable development, current issues, and gender equality.