Every semester students fly for at least 14 hours, crossing over 7,000 miles from China to the United States to get an education. At the University of South Florida alone there are 713 Chinese international students enrolled. They are the second largest population of international students at USF —but this year their experience looked different.
The coronavirus pandemic has been a threat in China for a year now. When the pandemic hit the U.S. in early 2020, and the most important officials of the country started attributing it directly to China, the 7,000 miles between the countries felt even larger for Chinese students.
“At the beginning of the pandemic, something that I was hearing specifically from our Chinese and other Asian students, and even some of our Asian-American students—which was very concerning to me—was that there were some nasty things being said, either online or in passing, and even in the classroom with professors calling it ‘the Chinese virus,’” said Kristen Zernick, the assistant director of intercultural programs at USF. “Even if it wasn’t happening at USF, just knowing that it was happening, it’s a weight to carry.”
Kai Nan, a Chinese graduate student at USF, experienced this in March when he started wearing face masks to class every day.
“Everyone at school, they see you as a monster,” Nan said. “They don’t understand why we wear a mask. But actually, March was the right timing where we had to wear one.”
Nan’s parents, back in China, advised him to wear face-coverings since early in the year because of what had started happening in some Asian countries. Even with their cultural normalization of wearing masks often, it initially evoked reactions from other students in the university. He was angry at first, but Nan understands people “need a place to put all their anger.”
“People do look at you differently, whether it’s students or just adults,” said Jayce Jiang, a first-year student at USF. “When I’m going to Publix or Target, sometimes people look at you weird just because you’re asian, so everyone assumes we’re Chinese. They would step more towards the edge.”
Jiang was born in New York, so she doesn’t count toward the international student population. As a Chinese-American, however, she felt offended by the rhetoric used by the U.S. government to describe the COVID-19 virus. Jiang was raised by her grandparents among the Chinese community, growing up close to her inherited culture. Jiang’s cousins, back in New York, have been verbally abused on the street or walking to school because of their Asian traits.
But even if tensions decreased over time, its effects speak to the cultural gap these students face when they arrive in a foreign country.
“I am worried that the pandemic, and living with Coronavirus, and living in a very hostile political climate right now, has exacerbated feelings of ‘I’m really far from home and in a culture that is completely different than my own’,” said Zernick. “Without any of the opportunities to see the positive sides of this culture and to make friendships that help you navigate those differences.”
Chinese students are one of the groups that face more culture shock, according to Zernick. A big part of this is in the difference between the education systems. In the U.S., they face a different study rhythm while dealing with the high expectations from family members—who also worry constantly about their children living abroad, especially this year as the pandemic reached and developed in the U.S.
American professors tend to create casual classroom environments where they expect a lot of discussion and interaction. They might swear in class or encourage students to call them by their first name — things Chinese international students might not be used to, said Zernick. According to Hofstede’s cultural dimensions theory, Chinese culture has a high power distance. Which means people see a big separation between them and figures of authority. In the U.S., this power distance is low compared to other countries.
“It’s easier for them in person, once they get here, to see how U.S. Americans navigate classroom life,” said Zernick. “It maybe been a little bit more difficult in an online environment to understand what professors expect in terms of engagement.”
Chinese, and other international students, haven’t had the chance to become familiar with their host culture and explore the area around the university to develop a sense of belonging.
Kexin Chen, a second-year student at USF, said that the feeling of not fitting in was prevalent when she first moved to the U.S. from Szechuan, China, at age 11.
“I feel really glad that USF has such a diverse culture,” she said. “I can communicate with people who are completely from another culture or with people of the same culture of where I’m from.”
Universities are a unique place where cultures intertwine and blend. They offer an opportunity for understanding of their differences. But this semester, “the exchange is not happening the way it used to,” said Zernick.
Isolation and homesickness are big concerns for Chinese students taking their classes from the U.S., with little opportunity to return home. Chinese students are also culturally less likely to be vocal and express when they are struggling.
“We had a student who could not get home last March, April, May,” said Janna Eveland, the student services associate director of INTO USF. “He finally gave up when the flight to get home, one way, was going to be over $10,000—and that was ridiculous.”
Meanwhile challenges are different for students who returned to their home country, or started their freshmen year of college there. The 12-hour time difference is just one of them. The hindered access to technology forces students to use VPNs to get their assignments done because China blocks many western webpages and systems.
USF has taken a stand to support their Chinese and international student population, expressing that they are valued and welcomed to USF. But some things are still uncertain even for the university’s Office of International Services. This relates to decisions Immigration and Customs Enforcement and the Department of Homeland Security might make as the circumstances of these semesters continue to evolve.
In the summer, for instance, ICE and the DHS issued a brand-new guidance that wouldn’t allow international students to stay in the U.S. and keep their current visas for the fall if all their classes were virtual. The decision was reversed after a lawsuit from Harvard University and MIT to the U.S. government. But when the guidance was announced, USF’s Office of International Services would get between 300 and 500 daily emails from nervous international students, said Lu Norstrand, an immigration specialist at USF.
“Every day, we’re facing so many questions. And for a lot of them we cannot make decisions,” she said. “So far, so good, but we don’t know what will happen next.”
The coronavirus pandemic hasn’t just brought political hostility to the surface, which translated to the individual experiences of some students. It has also emphasized our need to acknowledge and work through larger cultural differences. The cultural exchange international students allow when they decide to study in the U.S. is valuable—and this year it was strained.
These are meaningful points as we keep navigating the unique needs of online life and move out of it, as well as in the transition to new leadership in the U.S. Many of the situations caused by the global pandemic are amplifications of challenges and vulnerabilities Chinese and other international students continually face, in relation to documentation and the cultural/physical distance from what they have always known. It’s important to keep acknowledging them moving forward.
