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As an international student, I've seen how race affects admissions
My path through higher education en route to the University of Minnesota.
By Abdulrahman Bindamnan
July 4, 2023 at 11:00PM
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Positive change is neither for the timid nor the closed-minded. What can Americans learn from applying an international perspective to the question of affirmative actions?
Many Americans may presume that affirmative action is an American idea. But no, it was first established in India in the 19th century under the colonial rule of the United Kingdom. As we know, the caste system in India restricted the "untouchable" castes from attending schools or working. In 1965, the untouchable caste held just 1.6% of senior positions; nowadays, that percentage has risen to 11%.
It's not just India. Many other post-apartheid countries, such as South Africa, Brazil, China and France, have instituted some form of affirmative action policy to redress historical grievances.
Of course, many Americans think that America is exceptional, therefore not comparable to India, especially its caste system. In "Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents," American journalist Isabel Wilkerson analogized the racism in the United States with its counterpart caste systems in India and Nazi Germany — all systems that stratified society into racially defined groups, used as the basis for either inclusion and exclusion.
America's abiding sin is racism, which is akin to (though not identical with) the caste system. According to Wilkerson, race and caste "can and do coexist in the same culture and serve to reinforce each other. Race, in the United States, is the visible agent of the unseen force of caste. Caste is the bones, race the skin."
While some believe that affirmative action is an effective way to redress historical discrimination, I would argue that there is more to the story of admission, especially at the Ph.D. level, where students are normally fully funded by their departments. I will illustrate from my observations at three higher education institutions — the University of Miami, the University of Pennsylvania and the University of Minnesota.
When I first arrived in the United States as an immigrant at age 19, I applied to the University of Miami to pursue my undergraduate education. Although I submitted my application dossier after the deadline, the university accepted my candidacy, largely because I had a generous donor behind me who agreed to fund my education in its entirety.
From the perspective of the administration, we international students represent money. While at the University of Miami, I met many international students whose stories mirrored my own — rich and generous funders and therefore administrations eager to accept us immediately. We are good for business, for the money we bring in and for our diversity.
When I graduated from the University of Miami with my bachelor of arts, I applied for many master of arts programs in top-notch schools. My application was accepted in virtually every program to which I applied, again largely because of the money I brought and the diversity I represent. Although I was accepted by Columbia and many other prestigious schools, I eventually chose the University of Pennsylvania, home to the best graduate school of education in the country, if not the world. I spent over a year at Penn, and I received a good education, met interesting colleagues and earned an Ivy League credential.
When I graduated from Penn with a master of science in education, I contemplated Ph.D. programs. From my perspective, I had a B.A. from Miami and M.S. from Penn, which I expected would make my application dossier competitive. I chose the best Ph.D. education schools in the country. I was an international student, could pass as a student of color, had two prestigious degrees under my belt, always maintained excellent academic performance. I was optimistic about my prospects of securing a fully funded Ph.D. program.
Yet, in a twist, I was rejected from virtually every Ph.D. program to which I applied, except at the University of Minnesota. I was surprised. Why was my application readily accepted at the B.A. and M.S. levels but not at the Ph.D. level?
Here is my international perspective on the question of admissions justice in higher education: At the Ph.D. level, what matters most is a candidate's fit with potential advisers. Especially in the social science fields, many American professors are looking for candidates whose research interests mesh well with their interests; this leads to their discriminating against international students whose interests are often perceived as irrelevant to the local American context. Conversely, this gives Americans an extreme natural advantage, since they can naturally mesh well with the faculty.
I have observed this trend over and over, and at three higher education institutions. At the bachelor and master levels, where international students are expected to pay enormous tuition, the admissions process is very welcoming to international students. But at the Ph.D. level, where international students (and all students for that matter) are often fully funded to pursue research, we see low populations of international students — unless they are paying, since some Ph.D. programs are not fully funded.
So at the Ph.D. level race is both irrelevant and relevant. It is irrelevant because what admission committees are looking for is goodness of fit. It is relevant because being from the same race as the faculty will increase the chances that there is an alignment between research interests. Where there are international faculty on an admission committee who share a candidate's national identity, I am sure that candidates' chances of being admitted will increase.
Abdulrahman Bindamnan is a University of Minnesota Ph.D. student.
