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At
Home Abroad
An
increased effort to bring more students to Yale from overseas is
proving that cultural diversity and cosmopolitanism come at a cost.
by
Annie Murphy Paul
February 1997
"An
excessively homogeneous class will not learn
anywhere near as much from each other as a class whose backgrounds
and interests and values have something new to contribute to the
common experience." So wrote President Kingman Brewster to
his Director of Admissions in 1967. The result was an acceleration
of the shift that was already taking place in Yale's admissions
policy. African Americans, Jews,
and other underrepresented groups would soon be admitted to Yale
College in large numbers for the first time. So would women. Three
decades later, a movement is underway to welcome another group with
different "backgrounds, interests, and values": students
from other countries.
Although there have
been foreign students at Yale for as far back as anyone can remember -- the
graduate and professional schools have long been polyglot communities -- the
number of such students in Yale College has traditionally been low,
and lower than at many peer institutions. Under President Levin,
Yale is moving decisively to change that, by increasing its recruiting
abroad and expanding its services to international students while
they are on campus. The endeavor has already met with substantial
success: Applications from international students have increased
by 20 percent during the Levin administration, and their enrollment
has more than doubled.
But the new initiative,
like coeducation and the racial integration of the student body,
has not been without its dilemmas. The hundreds of international
students now passing through Yale College are putting new and greater
demands on its resources, seeking help with problems ranging from
obtaining visas to writing footnotes to communicating with roommates.
Meanwhile, the College's financial aid policy for internationals
has created some perplexing problems, ones that may actually hinder
the selection of a heterogeneous student body. Most important, the
presence of many more international students, from many more far-flung
lands, has posed questions about Yale's institutional character
and purpose, questions it is only now beginning to address.
It's
not hard to see why Yale has encouraged the arrival of international
students. They
represent a new pool of prospective students, often the most outstanding
in their countries, on which Yale can draw to assemble its freshman
classes. Many such students are exceptionally well-read and well-educated.
And in admitting students from less-developed countries, Yale has
an opportunity to shape the futures of countries all over the globe.
But competition for
the most desirable international students is intense. Other universities -- Harvard,
Stanford, and the University of Pennsylvania prominent among them -- have
mounted aggressive and wide-ranging overseas recruiting campaigns.
Compounding such competition is Yale's relatively slow start. The
number of international students coming to the United States began
to rise in the 1970s; the end of the Cold War accelerated the trend.
By 1993, 449,750 international students were enrolled in American
universities; in that year, however, only 3.4 percent of Yale's
freshman class was international (excluding Canadians, who are in
many ways treated like U.S. citizens by the admissions office).
Although President Levin
has openly endorsed internationalization, his predecessors were
not so enthusiastic. "Past presidents of Yale have been quite
isolationist," says Cyrus Hamlin, professor of German and acting
chair of the Standing Committee on International Education. "They
felt that Yale was a privileged place, and that students from elsewhere
were not suitable or qualified to study here." Adds Hamlin,
"That attitude is gone for good."
But even with the full
support of the administration, Yale's efforts at broadening its
reach have encountered a few complications. In some ways, Yale College
simply does not fit the needs of the typical international student.
To meet the demand for specific skills in their native countries,
many foreign students wish to study chemistry, mathematics, or engineering -- fields
in which Yale is not as strong as it has traditionally been in the
humanities. Some international students are not familiar with the
idea of a liberal education: In their own countries, students specialize
early, and have chosen an occupation by the time they enter high
school. And many do not want an undergraduate education here at
all; an American graduate degree is considered more valuable.
But many potential candidates
may simply be uninformed about Yale and its strengths. Compared
to some of its peer institutions, Yale has had a low profile overseas.
That's so at least in part because the College until recently did
no orchestrated international recruiting; admissions officers began
making trips abroad only in 1991. The international prominence of
other schools created a self-perpetuating cycle from which Yale
was effectively excluded: International students applied to an American
university because it was well known; those students then returned
to their native countries, and spread their universities' reputations
even further. Sana Haroon '98, a native of Pakistan who is president
of the Yale International Students Organization, transferred from
Wellesley College as a sophomore. "I actually didn't even think
of applying to Yale as a senior in high school, simply because I
knew little about it and had met few Yale graduates to tell me about
it," she says.
What
international students do know about Yale -- especially its location -- may
not be entirely favorable.
While the University has been largely successful among American
students in countering New Haven's image as a dangerous city, associate
director of admissions Diana Cooke notes that "the farther
you get from here, the longer the stories persist." The city's
reputation is aggravated by many internationals' perception of the
United States as a violent, crime-ridden place. Says Frederico Gil
Sander, a junior: "My teachers in Brazil told me that New Haven
was a dump. Then I got here and saw that it was a very nice town."
But perhaps the greatest
limitation on the College's population of international students
is imposed by its own financial aid policy. Admission for international
students is not need-blind,
as it is for U.S. citizens and Canadians. Those internationals who
do not apply for aid are considered along with the rest of Yale's
applicants, and have the same chance of getting in -- 20 percent -- as
Americans. The applications of foreign students who do request funding,
however, are evaluated separately, and their rate of admission is
a tiny 2 percent. Although many more are qualified, that is as far
as Yale's international student-aid budget, about $290,000 per class,
will stretch. That allocation has stayed constant even as the number
of international applications to Yale has swelled.
Competition for aid
among international students is so fierce that some forgo any chance
at funding, even though they need it. "I was going to apply
for financial aid from Yale, and then I read the fine print that
said it would really hinder my chances of getting in," says
Mya Win, a sophomore from the Philippines. "I talked it over
with my dad, and he said I shouldn't apply for aid, even though
it puts a big strain on my family financially." Since international
students are not eligible for federal aid or loans, and since undergraduates
are rarely funded by foreign governments, applicants from poor families
have no choice but to try for a full scholarship to Yale, and accept
the odds against them.
Despite such difficulties,
Yale remains extraordinarily attractive to many international students.
Some come because they want an international perspective on their
studies; others because the schools in their own countries are inadequate.
But most choose Yale for the same reasons that American students
do. "I decided that Yale was the place for me because there's
more of an emphasis on undergraduate education here than at other
universities," says Henrik Toggenburger, a junior from Switzerland.
Sana Haroon says that what led her to transfer to Yale was "above
all other things, the intense involvement of students in activities
on campus -- both academic and extracurricular." And Frederico
Gil Sander says that he was drawn to Yale because of its tradition
of liberal education. "In Brazil, you go right from high school
to professional school," he says. "I wanted to have more
options, and that's why Yale was appealing to me."
To reach
such people, the College has been dedicating more time and resources
to attracting foreign students.
The admissions office now has four staff members who read the applications
of internationals; two of the staffers also recruit abroad and together
spend a total of six weeks out of the country. For the first time
last year, international students already at Yale participated in
a phone-a-thon, calling admitted students from their home countries
and encouraging them to accept Yale's offer.
Such activities have
paid off: The proportion of international students in this year's
freshman class is almost 7 percent.
But because international
students have only recently reached a critical mass, the College
has been slow to develop resources for them once they are here.
Not long ago, Yale offered nothing beyond the services of the Office
of Foreign Students and Scholars, which deals exclusively with immigration
matters; a cookies-and-juice reception was the internationals' only
formal introduction to Yale. In response to the growing presence
of international students on campus, however, a University-wide
committee was convened in 1991 to review their status and make recommendations.
One such suggestion was to create an Office of International Education,
which opened a year ago under the supervision of Undergraduate Career
Services director Susan Hauser. The office assists students on an
as-needed basis, dispensing information, guidance, and money from
a small emergency fund. It also administers a three-day international
student orientation, another of the report's recommendations.
Despite such efforts,
the needs of international students are still so great as to strain
the resources Yale has allotted them. Until recently, international
students at Yale were almost invariably from Western Europe (or
occasionally from Hong Kong), spoke excellent English, and were
familiar with Western and even American culture; their families
were almost always affluent. Yale's admissions office has made a
deliberate attempt to diversity this group, but the success of its
efforts has created some unforeseen complications. During winter
break, for example, all Yale undergraduates must vacate the residential
colleges for three weeks. International students, like most American
students, have traditionally gone home for the holiday. But students
from poor families usually can't afford the trip, and often have
no other place to go. Yale has had to help find local "host
families" to take them in. (Starting this spring, a fund set
up by an anonymous donor and administered by the Office of International
Education will buy needy students one round-trip ticket home.)
Language can also be
a stumbling block for this new international population, even though
Yale requires the TOEFL, or Test of English as a Foreign Language,
as a condition of admission. Most international students speak fluent
English, but the skills of others are not always equal to the demands
of academic writing and discussion. Betsy Sledge, a writing tutor
in Silliman College, suggests that classes in English-as-a-second-language
should be made more available to internationals. "If Yale is
going to accept these students, it has to be aware that they have
special needs, and be ready to serve them," says Sledge. "Handing
them a pamphlet on writing prose is not going to do it."
Even
the most basic elements of American education may be unfamiliar
to some international students.
Louis Nkrumah, a freshman from Ghana, has not only had to learn
to use a computer, but even how to type on a keyboard; all of his
papers in Ghana were written by hand. For other students, the very
notion of choosing one's classes is baffling. "I had a fixed
program in high school," says Henrik Toggenberger. "I
never had a choice of what classes to take. When I saw the size
of the course catalog I was overwhelmed."
Students from conservative
cultures may have a particularly difficult adjustment to Yale's
relaxed atmosphere. Those from countries where mixing of the genders
is discouraged, for example, may now find themselves sharing a bathroom
with members of the opposite sex. And even when emotionally troubled,
such students may not feel comfortable seeking assistance. According
to Alexandros Zervos, "international students are less likely
to go for personal help. They are less apt to tell other people
what they feel. Instead they think, 'I'll deal with it myself.'"
Homesickness, common enough among American students, is exacerbated
by the utter newness of everything: Rinendra Shakya '99 of Nepal
remembers that, as a freshman, he couldn't get used to American
food.
Financial
problems loom large for many international students.
Although many are from wealthy or well-to-do families, those on
aid face special frustrations. "Students coming with no financial
means have needs beyond the usual limits," notes Cyrus Hamlin.
"They have very little clothing, and no books." As part
of his financial aid package, Louis Nkrumah's family was asked to
contribute $500, far less than the usual family contribution for
an American student on financial aid. In Ghana, however, $500 is
more than half of the average annual income. The requirement was
waived, but Nkrumah still had to take out a loan to pay for books
and clothes. His pillows, bedspread, and winter coat were given
to him by the University. "It's my opinion that Yale should
not accept students who cannot provide some financial support of
their own," says Hamlin. "It's not fair to force them
to be so dependent on us."
It is only by admitting
students like Nkrumah, however, that admissions officers can ensure
that more than a handful of countries -- in Western Europe, East Asia,
and the Saudi Peninsula -- are represented at Yale. Limitations on
financial aid already skew the student body toward the affluent.
"We'd like to admit more students from Eastern Europe, from
Africa, from South America, but people from those countries almost
invariably need full financial aid," says Diana Cooke. "Yale
just can't fund them all." Admissions officers thus face a
vexing paradox: As their recruiting efforts become more successful,
they will have to turn away more and more qualified international
students because they can't pay their way.
Despite the dilemmas
posed by the increasing presence of international students in Yale
College, there is little doubt that they are an invaluable asset
to the University. In a seminar on World War I taught this year
by history professor Gaddis Smith, four of 12 students are internationals -- from Iran, Germany,
Great Britain, and the Philippines. "The perspective they provide
is extraordinary," says Smith. "They have read far more,
and they have a greater sense of the world. It's a better education
for everybody."
Because such situations
are still so novel, however, no one can be sure how the growing
presence of international students will affect Yale College's curriculum,
admissions policy, or institutional culture. Smith notes that some
have wondered whether Yale will cease to be a national university
at all, and whether space for students from the U.S. will shrink
as a result. "I think that Yale will remain predominantly a
college for American students," he says. "But alumni do
worry whether it will be harder for their children to get in."
Of course, one day those
alumni may themselves be former international students. That may
well be the most radical change of all achieved by internationals:
shedding what one foreign student calls their "common otherness"
and becoming, simply, Yalies. "People from all over the world
are coming here now to be a part of Yale," says Henrik Toggenburger.
"We're creating an international tradition."  |
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