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International students don’t need ‘fixing’

To internationalise education, and not just enrolments, educators need to move feedback on academic language from correction to collaboration. Here Nashid Nigar offers a framework for rethinking inclusion through literacy diversity

Nashid Nigar's avatar
University of Melbourne
2 Jun 2025
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In the corridors of Western academia, international students are everywhere – and yet their voices often remain unheard. Not because they are silent, but because our systems are not really listening. We invite them in, but only if they learn to speak in ways that sound like us. The cost? Confidence, cultural richness and, in many cases, a meaningful sense of belonging.

As someone who has spent years teaching, mentoring and researching alongside international students – particularly those from the Global South – I have seen this dynamic unfold countless times. While higher education institutions in Australia and beyond champion “inclusivity”, the day-to-day educational landscape tells a different story; students’ complex language practices and cultural as well as other diverse knowledge is often misunderstood or erased under the guise of academic standards.

In a recent doctoral study and peer-reviewed publication, I introduced the framework of hybrid professional becoming, which offers a lens to understand how students and educators’ identities evolve in the face of academic monoculture. It emerges not from so-called abstract theorising, but from lived tensions of how multilingual students and educators navigate systems that reward conformity over creativity.

Let me share a few stories.

Stories of misrecognition and misalignment

Xiu*, an international master’s student, came to my office in tears. Despite completing every weekly reading and integrating feedback diligently, her grades stayed low. Her crime? Writing “too reflectively” or “not critically enough”. But her reflections – rich with insight and grounded in real-world teaching experience – were anything but superficial. Her thinking was deeply rooted in her transcultural learning traditions that favour circularity and contemplation over confrontation and directness. Her “failure” was not for lack of effort, but misalignment with dominant academic expectations.

Then there was Biyu*, who tried to write herself into a research paper using inductive logic, integrating her philosophical knowledge from Confucian traditions. Her work was nuanced, interweaving epistemology and ontology. Yet she was told: “This isn’t how we do academic writing.” What was missing was not academic depth but an institutional imagination wide enough to see it.

These students were not deficient. The system was.

Much of this can be traced to how academic literacy support is structured. Across Australia and elsewhere, academic language and learning programmes often function as “correction clinics”. Instead of recognising literacy as culturally situated and plural, these programmes aim to “fix” the students – often without questioning the norms they’re meant to assimilate into. In one of my own teaching experiences, a student was barred from writing in her first language – even in early brainstorming stages. In another instance, curriculum content was so deeply anchored in Anglocentric policy examples that students from China, Vietnam, India or Iran had no intellectual foothold to make meaningful connections.

Shifting from correction to collaboration

We can start by valuing translanguaging as a legitimate practice. I encourage students to annotate in their home languages, reflect in multiple tongues and then translate or renarrate for English assessment. In one powerful classroom moment, a student explained a Vietnamese concept that had no direct English translation, sparking a lively debate among peers about the limits of the English language in expressing cultural ideas.

We can also diversify our case studies and readings. I invite students to bring in education policies from their home countries and juxtapose them with Australian frameworks. A Chinese student analysed the double reduction policy through a critical lens, while an Indian student explored the tensions between multilingual schooling and state assessment rubrics. These aren’t digressions; they’re comparative literacy in action.

Feedback practices, too, can evolve. Rather than saying: “Awkward phrasing”, what if we asked: “What are you trying to say here, and how might we clarify it together?” Dialogic feedback – delivered via voice notes or guided questions – creates room for revision as an act of ownership, not submission.

Academic conventions matter. Clarity, rigour and structure are essential. But these should not come at the cost of epistemic diversity. We must stop equating Western forms of argumentation with intellectual legitimacy. That logic leads to the painful irony where multilingual students are fluent in multiple conceptual worlds but are assessed as lacking, simply because they do not write like we do.

Reimagining curriculum and pedagogy for inclusion

Educators, too, need support. Many colleagues want to do better, but lack models for how. That’s why I advocate for intercultural curriculum development, where educators co-design tasks that reflect diverse learning preferences – visual, dialogic, reflective, narrative – and allow students to showcase learning in more than one mode. In one of the courses I taught and developed, a student designed a French curriculum that spotlighted dialects from Martinique and Quebec, not just Paris. The result? A classroom that felt global, textured and relevant.

Let’s be honest: changing these practices requires time, generosity and unlearning. But the rewards are worth it. When students feel seen, their learning deepens. When they see their stories and knowledge reflected, they show up with agency, not just compliance.

This is not about charity, saving the weak or ticking the diversity box.

This is about rethinking who gets to count as “critical”, who gets to be “academic” and what counts as “good writing”.  It is about dismantling the hidden curriculum that punishes difference. It is about co-creating an academic culture that sees international students not as outsiders to be accommodated, but as co-creators of knowledge.

In a globalised university system, it’s time we asked ourselves: are we truly internationalising education – or just internationalising enrolments?

If we want a higher education sector that is intellectually vibrant and ethically grounded, recognising the literacy lives of international students is not optional. It’s essential.

* Names have been changed.

Nashid Nigar is a lecturer at the University of Melbourne.

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