“I never dreamed of becoming a researcher”
“That’s because growing up, I hadn't seen researchers with minority backgrounds in the media, and no one in my social network works in academia,” says Usma Ahmed, a new research fellow at OsloMet.
“Academia doesn't seem that tempting when you grow up in difficult financial circumstances, because you want to contribute financially at home. Research only became important to me when I realised that I needed more education in order to be able to contribute knowledge to issues I’m passionate about,” she says.
In addition to the need for knowledge and research, Ahmed experienced a degree of motivation and support from a number of people in academia.
The research fellow believes it is really important that researchers who have power create space for those who have grown up in difficult circumstances or belong to marginalised groups in society, and explains that it was never a given that she would become a researcher.
“I often feel a bit alone as a researcher, but then I try to think: how long are we not going to be part of the academia that produces knowledge about people like us?”
Why are there so few people born in Norway to immigrant parents in academia? This series of articles at Kifinfo will explore this topic. (Read more in the fact box.)
There are less than 1 percent Norwegian-born researchers with immigrant parents working in academia, while the group is overrepresented in higher education.
The goal of this article series is to highlight their own experience of pursuing a research career, as well as their experience of working in academia. In this way, the article series aims to highlight new and diverse experiences from the higher education sector, which can be valuable in the sector's work towards gender equality and diversity.
Is the obstacle money and class background?
Ahmed was born in Norway to parents from Pakistan. She is thus one of the few people born in Norway to immigrant parents who has embarked on a career in research.
“I feel I owe it to the generations that come after me to give it all I've got: a brown person, a visible minority who wears a hijab and who can contribute from that perspective. I hope in the long term it can help make it easier to be a visible minority in academia.”
The numbers don't lie. There are about 40,000 researchers and academic staff in Norway. Among those, there are fewer than 300 Norwegian-born researchers with immigrant parents who work in the research sector, and almost half of them are research fellows.
That equates to less than one per cent of the researcher population. Ahmed believes that socio-economic background explains the low number.
“Many people with my background take bachelor's and master's degrees in order to work and gain financial security,” she says.
It is also a barrier that you need top grades to become a PhD student,” says Ahmed. She believes that many people consider it good enough just to pass and not fail in higher education.
“It's all about cracking the code, and I wouldn’t say academia is designed to enable the majority of people from East Oslo to crack that code,” she says.
“Can you explain why that is?”
“Many of us don’t have parents who are fluent in Norwegian, and many of us can speak more than two languages.”
“Despite language skills being an asset, it’s not necessarily that skill set that academia values most. You don’t only need to know colloquial Norwegian, but also academic Norwegian. You need to write academically: explain, discuss and interpret in a way that fits the academic discourse in Norwegian higher education,” she explains.”
Researchers and the KIF Committee have described the transition between a master's degree and a doctorate as a "critical transition" for people born in Norway to immigrant parents. The fact is that although many people in this group take higher education, only a few continue into researcher education. (Read more in the fact box.)
It's all about being seen
For Ahmed, it helped to be invited to seminars and relevant gatherings, and to be seen.
“There are people in academia who have motivated me to get to where I am today. That confidence didn’t come from within me,” she says.
“Having said that, I never received any special treatment. I've worked incredibly hard to get to where I am today. During my bachelor's degree, I sat in the late-open library until midnight almost the entire time.”
Mette Tollefsrud, the project manager for OsloMet's campus at Holmlia, was also really important,” says Ahmed.
“As a member of the urban childhood research community Storbybarn, I had many opportunities to present my research. Mette created an arena for me to present my master's thesis, and the external examiner Mona-Lisa Angell motivated me to apply to the doctoral degree programme.”
“It was the first time anyone had ever said to me ‘this is important research, you should apply for a doctorate’, and that alone gave me the courage to apply for a research fellowship at the Department of Early Childhood Education.”
“The fact that researchers are able to recognise others who have something to offer is crucial. It would have been extremely difficult for me to carve out my own space.”
She explains that, despite being one of those who has cracked the academic code, she still suffers from what is known as "imposter syndrome".
“Sometimes, when I'm trying to make strides in academia, I have to put that East Oslo girl to one side. That’s because there are often other resources that are valued and recognised,” she says.
“I've always been motivated by seeing other people from vulnerable life situations in academia. It’s important for me to help nuance the picture of who is in academia, who researchers are."
“We were shocked when you put on the microphone”
One of Ahmed's biggest role models from the curriculum is the anthropologist Marianne Gullestad, author of the book “Det norske sett med nye øyne” (Norway Seen Through New Eyes), which she read countless times during her studies.
“The book makes an important contribution in Norway. What was new was that, in her position, Gullestad analysed the immigration debate and directed the spotlight towards Norwegians rather than ‘the others’ who had previously received most attention.”
Gullestad's book challenged the immigration debate in 2002 by shifting the focus from those who had immigrated, to the majority population and their statements about Norway’s new inhabitants.
Ahmed often hears from students that it is good to see people who look like themselves in positions such as lecturer and researcher. Such comments often come from the students she teaches, especially from women with minority backgrounds who wear a hijab.
“When I stand in the classroom and start teaching, they say ’We were shocked when you put on the microphone’. In a way, it very quickly removes the barrier between me as a lecturer and the students.”
For Ahmed, all students are role models in their own ways:
“The new generation dares to be critical and is proud to be themselves,” she says.
“The students are my role models, especially those who wear the hijab with pride and dare to be themselves. We are a marginalised group that experiences a great deal of racism and discrimination.”
Mentors for diversity in recruitment
Ronald Mayora Synnes is a member of KIF, a sociologist and a researcher of youth, religion, gender and ethnicity. He believes that strategic recruitment is important to increase diversity in academia, and points to challenges related to the recruitment process.
“Surprisingly few master's students know how to apply for a research fellowship,” says Synnes.
Synnes believes that, similarly to how Usma Ahmed was encouraged by researchers to pursue a research career, established researchers in academia have a responsibility to contribute to this process.
“When we recognise talented individuals, especially from under-represented groups in academia, it’s important to use our position to encourage them to continue their research.”
“One of the challenges in academia has been that we replicate ourselves – we encourage those who look like us to pursue a research career. It’s a kind of unconscious bias,” he says.
Synnes recounts the first time he attended the annual winter seminar for sociologists held in the Golsfjellet mountains.
'It's unbelievable – it's so white there. There were only three of us with a background other than ethnic Norwegian. There are many immigrants and descendants of immigrants among the students on the sociology programme, but when it comes to background, there is a gap between those who study and those who lecture and hold senior research posts.”
"In recent years, I have had the opportunity to visit many universities and other research institutions across Norway through my work in the KIF Committee, and I’ve been surprised by how white many research communities are," says Synnes.
Synnes proposes mentoring schemes for master's students to help get more students born in Norway to immigrant parents, and also immigrants educated in Norway, to become researchers in academia.
“We have a problem in academia, and it is naive to think that it will solve itself,” he says.
“The faculties are blindingly white”
Synnes is also concerned with how racism and lack of inclusion in academia affect minorities in higher education and research. He believes it is important to address these problems, and refers to the Students’ Health and Well-being Study survey from 2022, in which four per cent of students state they have been discriminated against based on their ethnicity.
"In my region, the south-east, that figure is over five per cent," says Synnes.
“Academia views itself as very progressive, a place where racism doesn’t exist. There is, however, a lot of racism and discrimination in academia, and I don’t think the problem is any less prevalent than in any other place of work. Perhaps it just manifests itself in a different way?”
Synnes says that he has personally experienced – and has talked to colleagues who have stated – that their expertise is undervalued because of their nationality or religion.
Synnes believes that different forms of racism and discrimination against ethnic minorities must be brought to light.
"In most cases, racism and discrimination in academia occur in a subtle and unintentional way. People rarely say that they deliberately reject candidates because they have a name like ‘Mohammed’ or because of their nationality. That being said, it’s not uncommon to think it’s less risky to employ a candidate called ‘Olav’ because he represents something that is perceived as safer and is considered a legitimate carrier of knowledge.”
“When we sit in dazzlingly white meetings at different faculties, we need to ask ourselves why that’s the case. Academia is far more diverse than that.”
Fighting racism comes at a cost
Although Synnes has made several statements to the media about racism and discrimination, he does not hide the fact that fighting these battles comes at a cost.
“I'm in a position of power – where I can talk – and that makes me privileged. There is a cost but it’s not as high as for those who don’t enjoy that position.”
“But when I write or speak about these issues, many people contact me and share their stories. The stories are often from people in difficult situations, who can’t say anything because they have temporary posts, or don’t feel that reporting it will make any difference.”
It’s frustrating to listen to these stories without being able to do anything,” says Synnes. He points to similar cases in other sectors of Norwegian society where whistleblowers are often poorly treated and the stress on them becomes too great.
“It’s the whistleblower who is seen as the problem,” he says.
“It's especially difficult to speak out when it comes to racism. A whistleblower may meet someone dealing with the case who is sceptical to the idea of racism existing in academia, and they may be dismissed with a smile, an apology, or be told that it’s about something other than racism.”
Like Synnes, Ahmed recognises the importance of her voice being heard in the debate for those who come after her, despite that coming at a cost.
“I feel that I must take on this fight for others, and although I am criticised every time I speak to the media, if I don’t take on the fight, it will impact both me and generations to come. I’m willing to let it affect my mental health,” says Ahmed.
“I’m often reminded by others that I'm not alone,” she says.
That is because both Synnes and Ahmed are part of an informal network and feel they receive support from others in that community. The network comprises minorities who are immigrants or Norwegian born to immigrant parents, as well as people with minority or majority backgrounds who are studying diversity in their research.
Ahmed is not alone in calling for a better system that protects researchers when they speak out in the media, and she comes under personal attack and receives threats, especially when it comes to her own minority background.
“We are facing an overlooked and undocumented racism problem in the sector,” says Synnes, referring to the article “The UN is concerned about racism in Norway. What does the research say?”, which he wrote for newspaper Aftenposten earlier this year.
“Academia has the power of definition”
Ahmed and Synnes are both concerned with the power of definition researchers have when it comes to how they define and refer to people born in Norway to immigrant parents. Synnes has chosen to use "ethnic minorities" as a term in his research, while Ahmed has so far used "students with a minority background" or "minority identity" in her research.
Ahmed believes that in everyday dialogue and the social debate about the population with other backgrounds, terms are still being used that alienate rather than include.
“I am taken aback when I hear people use terms such as immigrant youth, immigrant children, foreigners and foreign children,” she says.
“The educator in me comes out and says that we should, for example, use terms such as ‘children with special needs’ or ‘children with minority backgrounds’, because they are first and foremost a child or a human being, and identity markers such as ethnicity are secondary.”
“I think researchers have quite a lot of power when we use definitions of 'the others' in our research,” says Ahmed.
Translated by Allegro Language Services.
Why aren't there more people in academia who were born in Norway to immigrant parents? What do role models, mentors and networks mean when pursuing a research career? Do the few people in the research sector feel included or excluded in the working environment, and what advice do they have for the education and research sector?
These are some of the questions that Kifinfo will ask researchers born in Norway to immigrant parents.
What do we know about researchers in academia who were born in Norway to immigrant parents?
When diversity is mentioned in relation to the research sector, it is often about researchers who are typically referred to as international researchers educated abroad. They constitute as much as 34 per cent of Norwegian research staff – in great contrast to the small group of researchers born in Norway to immigrant parents.
The transition between higher education and research is often referred to as critical for Norwegian-born to immigrant parents. It pertains to the fact that second-generation immigrants enrol in higher education to a much greater extent than the majority population, but that only a few pursue a research career.
There is little research about the reasons for this under-representation. Some researchers have indicated that, among other things, it may be about drop-out and selection – that they either opt out of a research career or do not succeed in the recruitment processes. It may also be that research as a career path lacks status among second-generation immigrants, or that the answer lies in the fact that this group is still young.
We therefore want to interview a sample of Norwegian-born to immigrant parentss who have ventured beyond the "critical transition" between higher education and research, both research fellow and other researchers.
Diversity statistics from 2022:
- Norwegian-born to immigrant parents constitute just 0.7 per cent of research staff (271 people).
- 40 per cent of those are research fellows (100 persons).
- Most immigrants are in temporary posts: Immigrants constitute 74 per cent of postdoctoral fellows and 43 per cent of research fellows. Most of them are what are known as international researchers.
- In 2022, 4.7 per cent of students in higher education were Norwegian-born to immigrant parents (3.6 per cent in 2018).
Source: Statistics Norway (article in Norwegian)
Read more at Kifinfo: Statistics on gender balance and diversity
More about racism and discrimination
The Government's 2023 action plan on racism and discrimination contains many measures aimed at everything from school environments, volunteering and cultural life to trade unions and working life, but contains no measures relating to academia.