Minorities in academia: “Being Norwegian is not a buffer against discrimination”

How does the fact that there are so few Norwegian-born researchers with immigrant parents in academia affect this group’s sense of belonging?

“Knowing the language and culture is of course an advantage, but the uncertainty is still there. Being Norwegian (Ed. note: Norwegian-born to immigrant parents) is not a buffer against experiencing discrimination or other things,” says Khadra Yasien Ahmed, a research fellow at the University of Bergen, before adding: 

 “And it might even be worse, because you’re facing it from two sides. Because while foreign researchers may not understand the nuances of the language or the underlying tone, we understand what’s meant as well as anyone else.”

“Norwegian-born to immigrant parents are in some ways in a group of their own,” she explains.

“They’re, in a way, a minority within the minority. The minority that consists of everyone with an immigrant background, and mainly foreign researchers.”

Ahmed came to Norway as a child, has taken all her schooling in Norway and is now a PhD student in the field of medicine.

The integration paradox

Researcher Marjan Nadim recognises what Khadra Ahmed describes from her research on Norwegian-born to immigrant parents in higher education and working life:

“This fits straight into what the literature refers to as the integration paradox: the more integrated people are, the more reports of discrimination you see,” says Marjan Nadim, researcher professor at the Institute for Social Research.

“It’s about knowing the codes so that you realise you’re being excluded. Norwegian-born to immigrant parents probably perceive much more of the subtle exclusion than international researchers, for example, if the dialogue is in Norwegian.”

“It’s also about an expectation of being treated as an equal, in contrast to those who immigrate as adults,” she says.

This has become clear in Nadim’s ongoing research project “Discrimination after employment”. The project involves interviews with employees who have recently immigrated to Norway, but also Norwegian-born to immigrant parents.

“Similar to first-generation students’ stories”

Nadim places particular emphasis on three challenges that emerged from her research (see the fact box) on Norwegian-born to immigrant parents in higher education and working life:

The first is about mastering the “codes” in the workplace or at the educational institution.

“This could be mastering social codes, such as speaking the same language and having the same references, but also the codes for knowing how to navigate a career in the organisation you’re working for or studying at,” she says.

“Norwegian-born to immigrant parents describe lacking these codes as a handicap – the fact that navigating academia is almost second nature to their majority colleagues.”

Nadim believes that this is both about lacking a network, but also the clear class dimension that emerges.

“Many stories about Norwegian-born to immigrant parents are similar to those of first-generation students. It’s important to remember that most Norwegian-born to immigrant parents have also experienced class journey.”

The term “first-generation student” is often used to describe the first person in a family to take higher education.

“How homogeneous the different institutions in academia are and their degree of internationalisation also varies, which, in turn, will affect the importance of the codes to fit in.”

She refers to her research on Norwegian-born students with immigrant parents taking elite study programmes in fields such as medicine, law and the finance or business sectors. For example, those studying medicine were more likely to feel that they fit in because medicine was considered an international subject. This is in contrast to law, which is less international, Nadim explains.

Pressure to be a representative of others

The other thing Nadim has found in her research that she considers relevant in academia is ethnic niches.

“This is about you entering the labour market or academia, but being faced with a different path as someone with a minority background.”

“While some feel that the resources they bring to the table, such as additional language skills, are appreciated, others experience that they are assigned skills and tasks they don’t recognise or want,” she says.

The third challenge Nadim highlights from her research is the concept of hyper-visibility.

“You’re very visible when you’re a minority. Being noticed can be a good thing in academia, but it’s positive for a while. As soon as you make a mistake or something goes wrong, the flipside of hyper-visibility comes to the fore.”

She believes that this applies to the person themselves, but that you can also experience becoming a representative of others, known as the “burden of representation”. In other words, what you do or how you behave is automatically attributed to others in the same minority group.

“It’s the kind of burden you carry with you when you’re a visible minority, as many Norwegian-born to immigrant parents will be in academia,” says Nadim.

“Using your minority background as a strength in your research”

Esther Ogundipe Eradajaye is an associate professor at the Department of Social Studies at the University of Stavanger and knows what it is like to stand out in academia – and has used it to her advantage.

She has a master’s degree in clinical psychology from London, and had originally intended to practice psychology.

“It was never my plan to become a researcher, I was going to be a clinical psychologist,” says Ogundipe.

For her, it was two professors in particular, Bengt Karlsson and Marit Borg from the University of South-Eastern Norway (USN), who opened the door to a research position in academia.

“At USN, I worked at the Centre for Mental Health and Substance Abuse, and was introduced to recovery as a field of research.”

“Recovery can be understood as a personal and social process. In short, it’s about identifying and dealing with the various social consequences of mental health problems and how they affect people’s quality of life,” she says.

“Here I was able to use my ethnic minority background as a resource. The focus on the collective in this method corresponds well with my African ethnic background, where community and relationships play a central role.”

“I have visible features that mark my ethnicity, which makes me stand out, both in academia and in society in general.”

“Being in a minority position has given me a deeper understanding of how standing out can affect identity, belonging and the ability to participate fully in society,” says Ogundipe.

“These experiences have given me insight into what it’s like to feel different or excluded. I can use this to understand how people in different minority groups can experience outsiderness and stigmatisation, whether based on ethnicity, religion, sexuality, or due to mental health challenges.”

Ogundipe was born in Norway to immigrant parents and was one of very few researchers with an ethnic background other than Norwegian when she started at the Centre for Mental Health and Substance Abuse. However, there are many international partners in the field of mental health and substance abuse, she explains.

“Many people don’t envisage people like me as a researcher”

When asked what Ogundipe thinks it would take for more Norwegian-born people with immigrant parents to choose a research career, she emphasises two things: a lack of representation in academia and what parents encourage their children to do.

“When I told my family that I wanted to become a psychologist and then a researcher, my parents’ response was: ‘What’s that?’.”

“According to our parents, we should become a lawyer or a doctor,” she adds.

Previous research shows that Norwegian-born people with an immigrant background are more likely than the rest of the population to choose programmes of professional study that are associated with high status. This is known as “immigrant drive” (innvandrerdriv) – the fact that many (immigrants and) Norwegian-born to immigrant parents come from a family with a low level of education, but often choose prestigious studies themselves.

Ogundipe is unsure about whether the immigrant drive phenomenon is specific to Norwegian-born to immigrant parents, but says that her parents wanted her to become a doctor because they wanted a good and secure future for her.

“Another important point for them was that they wanted me to contribute to society. I don’t think they initially fully understood the value of research, but they do now,” she says.

“Perhaps it’s also because many Norwegian-born to immigrant parents and the parent generation may not have seen people like me – a young, brown woman – in a research role, and who also does well in that role.”

Advantages and challenges in an international workplace

Like Ogundipe, research fellow Khadra Yasien Ahmed was also encouraged by a project manager during her studies to pursue a research career.

Ahmed describes the workplace as an international work environment, which is also confirmed by the diversity figures for 2023: the majority of Norwegian-born researchers with immigrant parents are employed in medicine and health sciences. As many as 54 per cent of Norwegian-born women and 42 per cent of Norwegian-born men with immigrant parents, who are researchers in Norway, are employed in medicine and health sciences.

Ahmed explains that everyone at the Department of Global Health and Primary Care at the University of Bergen has to interact with different cultures and international researchers who are often only in Norway for short periods.

“How would you describe the working environment at your organisation?”

“I’ve had good experiences, but also some less positive ones.”

“But it’s a bit about meeting challenges in a way that can lead to something positive for both yourself and the organisation. This could be talking about taboo topics or something you’ve experienced by going through the right whistleblowing channels.”

“Can you mention any of the less positive experiences that you or other employees have had?”

“Some people lack a systemic understanding of how the institutions work in Norway and knowledge about where to report matters and to whom. Many people don’t know about the right channels for reporting racism and discrimination, for example, and many fear for their livelihood.”

Started a group to combat racism and discrimination

Research fellows at UiT The Arctic University of Norway are also committed to combatting racism. Kiwumulo Nakandi is a former research fellow at the National Research Centre for Complementary and Alternative Medicine at UiT. She is deeply committed to combatting racism in academia and was one of the initiators of the working group that was started in 2021.

“The idea to start the group emerged during a student event at UiT that was supposed to be about diversity, ‘Norwegianness’ and identity,” says Nakandi, who now works as a municipal doctor in Moss.

“Only white Norwegians were invited to talk about these topics. I was wondering why they were going to talk about that without including other people with different experiences.”

“Another research fellow asked the organisers why it was only ethnic and white Norwegians who were going to discuss that topic. And I supported her,” she says.

“It seems a bit strange that we only listen to the majority perspective. And it’s somewhat ironic that the one person who came from Oslo, a white, heterosexual man, should single-handedly define what it means to be Norwegian today.”

“That’s when we decided to talk about these topics from an anti-racist perspective, especially in academia, and started the working group.”

Today, the group has grown to include seven members from UiT. Two of the members are Norwegians with an immigrant background, while one has a Sami background. The other members are from minority backgrounds, while one is involved because of a professional commitment to how language barriers can contribute to exclusion.

Bad experiences with the “Speak up!” system

The first thing the anti-racism group at UiT did was to provide input to the action plan. They proposed a three-part action plan: one for diversity, one for inclusion and one for (gender) equality, Nakandi explains. UiT’s new action plan reflects this.

Nakandi and the working group now want to improve UiT’s whistleblowing system “Speak up!”.

All employers are obliged to have a system comprising a code of conduct or whistleblowing procedures describing how to react when someone reports harassment.

 “When you call the whistleblowing helpline, you may reach someone who doesn’t understand the depth of racism. Although there are systems in place, they don’t work well enough. Many students and employees, both international and Norwegian-born, have had bad experiences with it.”

“What kind of experiences are they reporting?”

“When the people you meet don’t take you seriously, it means it won’t be reported. As such, racism and discrimination are understood to be a minor problem.”

In addition, many people say that they find it difficult to report matters because they do not have a permanent position, according to Nakandi.

“I’ve experienced discrimination repeatedly myself, and it’s uncomfortable to speak up about it. You’re given a form to fill in, but if you haven’t been hit or called a ‘nigger’, it’s unlikely to go any further and you give up,” she says.

“We must dare to talk about racism and discrimination as a society. The challenge now, as before, is that we don’t talk about it until something has happened.”

Translated by Totaltekst.