Who Gets to be International?

Sciences Po applicants researching the campus of Menton may come across a 2-year-old video titled “73 Questions with a Sciences Po Paris Campus de Menton Student,” by former Columbia Dual BA student Ana Valeria Vázquez Navas. In a Menton-based Q&A titled “73 Questions with a Sciences Po Paris Campus de Menton Student,” then-2A Aziza Ben Abdallah is asked: “What do you think is a stereotype of a Sciences Po Menton student?”

In response, Ben Abdallah responds, “Super international, a little snobby, and elitist.” Let alone the connotations of “snobby” and “elitist,” a future Menton student may be a little confused by the ambiguous stereotype of “international.” What does international mean?

By definition, “international” is quite a simple word. Formed by Latin roots, it was originally used by philosopher Jeremy Bentham to refer to affairs between different countries, specifically legal relations. The term has developed since then. 

Sciences Pistes may be most familiar with the phrases “international relations,” and “international students,” both with familiar meanings. However, when a person is described as “international,” it isn’t necessarily as objective. What qualifies a person as international? Is it the number of languages they speak? The countries they’ve visited or lived in? When the Menton campus is filled with international school graduates, multinationals and the occasional well-traveled American, it’s especially interesting to know what exactly the campus of Menton defines as “international.”

Over the past week, I conducted interviews with students on campus to get a grasp of the campus’ definition of international, and to perhaps find my own meaning in that process. I began with 1A Su Görgel, who said the term international is all about one’s origins, notably nationality and education. Görgel owes her feelings of internationality both to the international school she attended from a young age and to Türkiye’s multiculturalism. She notes that many Turkish people “feel very connected to the Middle East, to the Balkans, to Eastern Europe, [and] to some parts of the West,” emphasizing this as an origin of her international self-identification. Furthermore, she notes that French Sciences Pistes could also be considered international if they attended international schools prior, highlighting the importance of educational background in defining an “international” person on the Menton campus.

Our conversation, however, shifted when we began to discuss the intersection of national and international identities. Considering her pride and connection to her Turkish identity, Görgel described the adjective with a more abstract qualification: mindset. Alongside education and nationality, Görgel said being international involves one’s “world gaze.”

“International, is at the end of the day, it's a self-determination [sic]. It's what you identify as.” This self-identification, Görgel believes, is rooted in a student’s ability to accept and explore other cultures, especially when they live in a new nation or environment such as Menton.

My next interview with 1A Emilija Gedvilaite seemed to reflect this emphasis on mindset and openness. For Gedvilaite, born and raised in Lithuania, multinationality isn’t necessarily a parameter for considering a Sciences Piste as international. Instead, it is the choice to immerse oneself in a deeply multicultural environment. 

“If [a well-traveled student] always stayed in their own bubble” and “they were not interested in the place they were,” Gedvilaite explained, “I think that can make them non-international, even though technically they've been in many places.” 

Additionally, for Gedvilaite, the international identity is about a student’s environment as much as it is their character. She believes another root of the international identity is the unity between students here. Since most of us are foreigners, representing 70+ non-French nationalities, we unite in a sort of franken-culture, sharing our cultures between one another. In this way, our international identity is strengthened through our solidarity.

While Gedvilaite and Görgel highlight mindset, fellow 1A Shakira Ilmansyah follows a more class-conscious definition. Ilmansyah, who grew up at an international school with a majority of fellow Indonesian students, explains that in her hometown, “international” is an adjective reserved for Indonesian students of international schools, westernized by their education and culture. 

In Indonesia, describing a student as international is “kind of like she's whitewashed, or she

has an Owala. She has a Stanley,” explained Ilmansyah.

Ilmansyah does however follow the common trend of imagining a well-traveled student who has absorbed and adopted several cultures and traditions: “They've seen all different kinds of cultures.” Essentially, it is mostly based on exposure, mobility and cultural consumption both at home and abroad.

Finally, I interviewed 2A Antonio Jose Navarro Lim, who offered me the most interesting interpretation of the word. In our interview, Navarro Lim expanded upon the idea of a fluid definition, noting the dependence of the definition of “international” on the environment and people. For example, in his hometown he would consider himself international for his unique Korean-Spanish heritage. However, in a campus full of multinational and multiethnic students, he doesn’t give himself that same classification. 

Furthermore, Navarro Lim agrees with Ilmansyah in that it is inherently associated with class. Like the historical upper class, the term carries a unique exclusivity and its definition becomes narrower and broader in different environments, maintaining its rarity. In fact, he believes that Menton’s use of the word “international” most often describes aristocrats “from very wealthy backgrounds, who have traveled all over the world” and who “had the time to learn [various languages].” 

Navarro Lim also warns against the use of the word “international.” Aside from its connotations of aristocracy and cosmopolitanism, he also believes it can easily be associated with Orientalism, colonization and globalization. The international identity is rooted in an attraction to exotic cultures. Take, for example, Europe’s colonizing aristocracy who spoke several languages from their trade and travels. He notes that considering himself international would embrace “a culture which is actively destroying [his local] culture,” threatening the integrity and survival of small Spanish and Korean communities’ cultures. For Navarro Lim, it’s a word that carries historical weight and privilege, benefitting the well-resourced Sciences Pistes and the exclusivity of their class.

Ultimately, even in just four interviews, the definition of international was fluid, varied, and personal. For students like Görgel and Gedvilaite, it is perhaps an openness to cultures beyond one’s own. A student aligning with Ilmansyah may tie it closer to the definition used in their home, involving class and privilege. And without a doubt there exists students like Navarro Lim, who understand and remain wary of the privilege and power that exists within the elitist term of “international.” 

As I reflect upon my conversations with these students, I consider internationality, above all, to be exclusive at its core. Between my interviews, I see a common trend: students utilizing their personal experiences to define an upper class. Whether in Indonesian high schools or in our diverse Sciences Po campus, being international is inherently dependent on those who aren’t. To be international is to admit superiority to others, creating and reinforcing a social hierarchy ingrained in our minds. For Sciences Pistes, perhaps saying international says as much about the people doing the labeling as it does about those being labeled.

Photo Source: vapourtrails, licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0, Flickr