DOI: 10.3726/9781916985285.003.0006
Educational pathways can change lives; William’s story is a testament to this. Education for people experiencing forced migration and (protracted) displacement offers hope: for independence, for self-determination, for capacity building, for helping others, and – for a few – a chance of resettlement (Dryden-Peterson, 2010, 2017; Pherali and Moghli, 2021). As part of a suite of pathways that are complementary to government resettlement programs, skill-based pathways, including education, offer the opportunity for displaced peoples to leverage their skills and capability so that they can follow their interests and realise migration opportunities open to other people. Furthermore, like other complementary pathways, student programs share the benefits and responsibilities with civil society, and institutions like universities, increasing a country’s ability to respond to humanitarian needs. Moreover, education pathways can also open resettlement opportunities that are additional to a country’s humanitarian program.
However, there is lack of studies about how students who access programs like the WUSC SRP, cope with their studies, integrate in their universities, settle in their host communities, and transition out as graduates and future professionals. William’s narrative, therefore, offers a compelling account of the challenges of forced migration and the struggle to survive, of the hope-full possibilities of education as a means of resettlement, and of his professional and academic journey towards becoming a public health expert. Because he was able to access the SRP, William is now not only helping others to leverage the power of education, but he is also part of the research community, and an important contributor to Australia’s healthcare system. The WUSC’s SRP initiative, and support by the University of Toronto local committee, have paid dividends, and Australia is now the lucky beneficiary of that investment in William.
In this final chapter, we examine what William’s narrative can tell us about the need for education in displacement contexts, about the value of education pathways, and about the role of community (campus) sponsorship. We also explore the challenges that William describes, and consider the implications of his experience for developing better supports for students accessing programs like the SRP nowadays. Finally, we explore the advocacy and activities that are striving to create more programs like the SRP around the world.
Access to quality education is a basic human right (Article 26, The Universal Declaration of Human Rights). While few people dispute this, the practical reality of providing equitable, universal, and quality education to people who are displaced and seeking asylum is growing in complexity and scale. While there have been significant gains in access to schooling for refugees in many countries of asylum (UNHCR, 2024d), there is significantly lower parity in tertiary education access.
Higher education plays a vital role in empowering refugee students in displacement contexts. By equipping them with essential knowledge and skills, higher education fosters self-reliance, hope, and can facilitate better employment opportunities. Higher education is, according to Sarah Dryden-Peterson (2010), “an instrument of protection in refugee contexts, a protective role for youth engagement, peace building, and counter terrorism, provides opportunities for employment and self-sufficiency” (p. 14). Such empowerment allows refugees to support themselves and their families while also contributing positively to the economies of their host communities. This is the clear and consistent narrative that the UNHCR, and many others, have been promoting for years in an effort to get more governments to provide access to schooling and tertiary education for the refugees they are hosting (UNHCR, 2024d). However, it is important to note, that in, many countries of asylum, tertiary education access for citizens is lower than in settlement countries like Australia and Canada. This makes the challenge of providing access to higher education in displacement contexts even harder; as Pherali and Moghi (2021) note, “[higher education] is still considered a luxury rather than a part of the educational continuum and as a means to transform conditions in which refugees and conflict-affected populations live” (p. 2160; see also Kamyab, 2017).
As we outlined in Chapter 1, the gains in educational access for refugees cannot match the growing numbers of people who are living in protracted displacement contexts, whether in camps or in urban settings. The literature offers many lessons about providing higher education, particularly from the case of Syrians who fled the conflict in the mid-2010s and sought asylum in neighbouring countries such as Lebanon, Türkiye, and Jordan (e.g., see Avery and Said, 2017; Kamyab, 2017; Pherali and Moghli, 2021) as well as in other countries such as Germany (Berg, 2023). This literature highlights the challenges of providing higher education to newly arrived refugees, not least because higher education is not considered an urgent or basic need (Dryden-Peterson, 2017) and therefore does not feature prominently (if at all) in refugee response programming. The case of Syrian arrivals in neighbouring countries highlights how providing higher education is complicated in countries that are themselves unstable (such as Lebanon) and generally hostile to refugees. As Avery and Said (2017) report, where there are gains in educational access, these can come with the cost of segregation, as was the case for Syrians in Lebanon who were prevented from attending classes with local students, and instead had to attend classes in the evening. Without the hope of accessing further education (whether vocational or academic), there are limited motivators for refugees to remain in school. This in turn creates a toxic hopelessness, which is “often rooted in a lack of viable alternatives for the future in a context of political repression and rising socio-economic injustice”, which can fuel radicalisation and resentment (Avery and Said, 2017, p. 106).
Without long-term higher education planning for refugees, educational aid initiatives have stepped in to provide higher education access to displaced people. According to Pherali and Moghli’s (2021) review of literature that focuses on lessons from supporting Syrians in Lebanon with higher education, there are benefits to providing digital access to higher education, through leveraging the resources of multidimensional partnerships, and through considered information-sharing practices. However, these are not without their challenges. These authors note how online provision can conceal the needs and scale of the access issue, and how the widespread provision of digital access without careful evaluation and monitoring can squander goodwill and opportunity. Moreover, Pherali and Moghli (2021, p. 2166) warn that
the involvement of external/non-state actors in educational delivery may fuel a reactive process of subcontracting educational responsibility to external/non-state actors without necessarily ensuring sustainability or accountability of the provision or even the quality of that provision.
Further, without opportunities like work placements, educational aid is restricted in the livelihoods opportunities for displaced peoples. Therefore, while educational aid is important for developing pipelines of tertiary-ready students and providing a “pull factor” for students to complete schooling, the need for skills-based pathways that lead to durable resettlement solutions, such as the WUSC SRP, which William was accepted into, remain an important and growing part of the story.
As William’s story shows, accessing higher education was a pathway to independence, breaking the cycle of aid dependence, and offering a brighter future – not only for him but also for his family. Moreover, his higher education qualification significantly enhanced his economic stability. As William’s story shows, with advanced qualifications refugee students are better able to attain well-paying jobs, which can lead to an improved standard of living. For William, training to become a pharmaceutical scientist, epidemiologist, public health worker, and later an academic and researcher was just not an option in any of the refugee camps he lived in as a boy and then young man. Such professional opportunities require years of dedicated study, certification, professional practice, and support; these are almost impossible in situations of mass displacement. Even for those refugees who are professionally qualified/highly skilled, the likelihood of being able to use those skills and experiences is also minimal (Kaushik and Walsh, 2018; Ganassin and Young, 2020; Sandoz, 2020; Baker et al., 2022). This reminds us of the socioeconomic injustice that Avery and Said (2017) wrote about in connection with the hopelessness that limited higher education access offers.
The economic uplift that higher education, especially higher education resettlement pathways, provides not only helps individuals escape the grip of poverty but also strengthens the economic fabric of the host community, demonstrating the broad impact of educating refugees. William’s contributions to Canada and Australia have far outweighed the investments made in his resettlement journey and the WUSC SRP contributions. Sadly, while William is one of thousands of WUSC students, there is little long-term tracking and economic analysis of the impact that the SRP has on Canada (and other) economies and societies. We can thus only speculate the cost-benefit analysis, but we can surmise that the WUSC SRP has yielded profound economic benefits for Canada and elsewhere, including South Sudan.
In addition to economic payback, investment in higher education opportunities facilitates social integration for refugee students and enhances the social inclusion of host communities and societies (Abamosa, 2023). Educational institutions provide an environment where refugees can build networks and foster relationships with local students (Anderson et al., 2021). Interaction on and off campus promotes understanding and tolerance, creating a sense of belonging while mitigating social isolation that many refugees face whether in a displacement context (e.g., Crea, 2016) or a resettlement context (Berg, 2023). Through higher education, refugees can bridge cultural divides, enriching both their own experiences and those of their host communities.
Furthermore, pursuing higher education can profoundly affect the psychosocial well-being of refugee students (Crea, 2016; Jack, Chase and Warwick, 2018), although we note Steinhilber’s (2019) argument that gender and nationality can impact significantly on the effectiveness of psychosocial supports while studying in displacement contexts. The pursuit of academic goals gives individuals a sense of purpose and achievement, which is crucial for mental health, especially after the trauma associated with displacement. Conversely, limited or no access to the possibility of higher education can significantly impede a person’s mental health (Bajwa et al., 2017; Jack, Chase and Warwick, 2018). Engaging in a learning environment can serve as a therapeutic outlet, helping students cope with their past experiences while fostering resilience for the future. William’s story has attests to these therapeutic mental health outcomes as he described the nightmares experienced and how it dissipated when he got to Canada.
Lastly, another benefit is the opportunity for leadership development. Crea and Sampson (2017) observed this in their observations of developing the Jesuit Commons: Higher Education at the Margins (JC:HEM) program in refugee camps in Kenya, Malawi, and Jordan. Educated refugees can be positioned to take on roles as leaders and advocates within their communities (Nwosu and Barnes, 2014; Whelan et al., 2023). With an enriched understanding of social issues and critical thinking, these individuals can raise awareness about the challenges faced by refugees (Abdo and Craven, 2018; Abamosa, 2023), influence policy changes, and drive initiatives for positive development, both locally and globally. By harnessing their education, they can challenge narratives surrounding refugees and push for reforms that ensure their rights and needs are addressed (Dryden-Peterson, Dahya and Adelman, 2017). William has more than demonstrated his leadership, both professionally (as Northern Queensland’s chief epidemiologist during COVID), and in his advocating for more refugee access to higher education. This book is a clear example of that strong commitment.
Refugees are not the only beneficiaries of higher education pathways. As William’s experiences with the WUSC SRP show, the benefits are shared between refugee students and the local communities that support them. Receiving a year of personalised support is a key feature of the WUSC SRP, and this has been replicated in the US’ Welcome Corps on Campus program (Welcome Corps, 2023) and in the Australian Refugee Student Settlement Pathway (Refugee Education Australia, 2024). Campus sponsors provide tailored assistance, which can include helping students enrol in their courses, offering academic support, and navigating the education system. This individualised support plays a crucial role in enhancing refugee students’ academic success and facilitating their integration into the community. The evidence from the literature attests to the value of such community support. Ferede’s (2014) study of 25 SRP students at one Canadian university suggests that SRP students found their LC’s help invaluable, especially after many expressed surprise at how “hands off” their lecturers were (p. 231). Furthermore, SRP students receive access to essential resources such as school supplies, accommodation, and opportunities to participate in extracurricular activities in their first year of support from community sponsors. These resources help to remove barriers to education, allowing students to engage fully in their university experience (McKee et al., 2019).
The emotional and social support that a targeted community of supporters can offer is vital for refugee students’ success, helping refugee students like William feel valued and included. This network of support is especially important for refugee students’ mental health and well-being; as William’s narration demonstrates, many refugees have experienced traumatic events, persecution, and hardship. While resettlement brings a sense of relief, the consequences of trauma can last for many years (Jack, Chase and Warwick, 2018), and this can negatively impact on a student’s capacity to focus and learn (Avery and Said, 2017), with universities found to actively trigger trauma through unsupportive systems and structures (Maringe et al., 2017). Receiving the support of a group of committed volunteers can provide a sense of security that is vital for being able to process trauma and engage with studies; however, this requires specific responses that are trauma-informed (Bajwa et al., 2017; Baker and Naidoo, 2024), thus necessitating the kinds of careful training and consistent support for campus supporters that WUSC has designed and provides.
For the campus supporters, the benefits extend beyond the individual to the wider student, university, and local communities. Peterson (2010) describes WUSC SRP as providing a transformational personal experience that connects refugees to the civic and citizenship model of Canada. Long-term volunteerism is a difficult commitment, especially for students, many of whom are themselves living in situational precarity as they balance work, study, and personal commitments (Forner et al., 2022). As Reyes-Soto’s (2023) account of volunteers participating in the UK Community Sponsorship Scheme (CSS) illustrates, volunteers reported motivating factors to remain in a CSS group as including personal gratification and friendship, as well as a sense of empowerment and agency. Beyond the individual benefits, Reyes-Soto reports that CSS volunteers are spreading values of inclusion and educating their own communities on acceptance of diversity. Likewise for higher education pathways, the activities of campus supporters, and learning with and from refugee students, provides institutional knowledge, and understandings that can uplift the whole university community. Campus sponsorship has the potential to facilitate the kind of whole-of-university approach that Jack, Chase and Warwick, (2018) propose, involving “a system-level analysis of the needs of its students and thinking about a whole-system approach to its response to such needs”, through embedding support into course spaces, so as to “raise the profile of the service within the modules throughout the university, thus helping to break down those barriers that students perceive (trust, stigma and so on)” (p. 62).
Furthermore, having local contacts through a campus supporter group aids short-term and longer-term employment prospects, offering an immediate social network – the lack of which prevents many other refugees (such as those who arrive through government resettlement programs; see Agrawal, 2019) from gaining meaningful employment for many years after arrival (Hugo, 2011; Sandoz, 2020). McKee and colleagues (2019) describe this from their impact study of WUSC alumni:
A common theme among the SRP beneficiary interviews is the importance of networking and social and professional connections for their integration. Local committees connecting SRP beneficiaries with jobs on campus, helpful references from professors when applying to postgraduate education programs, and the sponsoring community’s role in contributing to a strong sense of belonging were some of the examples provided by interview respondents.
Through building networks of support and cooperation, campus supporter networks can be for universities, creating important connections between and in their local communities, importantly including alumni and diaspora networks. Moreover, in times of conflict – as has been the case with campus protests about the conflict in Gaza in 2024 as we have written this book – refugee student sponsorship can be advantageous for addressing political and reputational challenges faced by universities. Lastly, there is a positive economic impact associated with integrating refugee students into the education systems and encouraging student volunteerism. Socially aware students are more likely to contribute positively to the local economy and society, be more socially and politically aware (and vote accordingly), leading to long-term benefits for the community as a whole (McKee et al., 2019).
However, CS is not without its challenges. As Korteweg et al. (2023) outline from their study of community (non-university) sponsors, volunteers evaluate sponsorship by reference to a set of expectations and judgements about sponsored refugees, their fellow sponsors, and the state. Although there may be few conscious expectations about the behaviours or attitudes of others (sponsees, other volunteers), over time Korteweg et al. ’s participants undertook a cost-benefit analysis of their investment in CS and realised that humanitarianism is neither benign nor easy to maintain, although this would not necessarily stop volunteers from persisting with or repeating sponsorship. Likewise, Agrawal’s (2019) comparison of government sponsorship and CS in Canada identified an initial investment of goodwill, which was eroded over time by a lack of information about refugees or real knowledge of what they were committing to was a noted challenge (what one participant described as a “crap-shoot”, p. 955). The commitment was generally more than volunteers expected, which was reflected in the accounts of sponsored refugees:
Interviewees also suggested that sponsors must be better informed and prepared about the people they are sponsoring, which go beyond learning about their historical, cultural, and societal contexts. The refugees found that sponsors’ information was flawed, with many holding the impression that Syria was a backward and undeveloped country. This was reflected in how they viewed and treated the people they sponsored, doubting their capability and skills—with the result that they did not offer them sufficient opportunities to become independent.
The quote here offers an important reminder that while sponsorship offers undoubtable benefits, it requires more than goodwill; community sponsors need information, curiosity, reflexivity, and training and resources.
William’s story of migrating to Canada via the WUSC SRP has many positive elements, leading to his “happy right now” even though this is not an ending. However, despite the unquestionable opportunity, William’s recount of his experience of the WUSC SRP highlights areas that require careful evaluation and potential amendments to the program (although we note as William described in Chapter 4, he experienced many challenges with adapting to, transitioning into and through, and navigating both higher education (academic expectations and practices), and resettlement in Canada (cultural knowledge and familiarity). In what follows, we explore both sets of challenges, pointing to where more resources might need to be developed for new educational pathways, like the RSSP in Australia. However, we would also like to note that William settled in Canada 25 years ago and things have evolved over those years.
Host language proficiency and academic readiness are undoubtedly crucial for success in higher education; indeed, this is rightly built into the recruitment, selection, and matching criteria employed by educational pathway providers like WUSC. William easily met the English language threshold; as a bright student, he completed his exams with high grades, and he was easily able to master the format for exams and demonstrate his proficiency through the narrow criteria of a language test. However, academic readiness cannot be measured alone by exams and tests; the practices and conventions of demonstrating learning at university level in a Western higher education institution. William’s experience of struggling to catch up on missed “core knowledge”, to get through the reading, and to pass his assignments illustrate the challenges of designing programs for students who have had fragmented education prior to arriving in a resettlement context.
What counts as “academic readiness” is a highly contested debate, meaning questions of what counts as “readiness” for students who have experienced forced migration and disruption to their education are difficult to define. While William experienced some pre-arrival academic preparation from local learning partners who do incredible work in difficult conditions, via organisations like the International Rescue Committee (IRC) and the Windle Charitable Trust, if the content is not created in dialogue with the level of study and discipline of study, students will arrive at an educational disadvantage. In this case, students like William can take a bridging course – although you will note from William’s narrative that he was initially not happy about that decision, because he felt like he was wasting his time. This notion of wasting time is common with refugee students (Baker et al., 2020), especially if they have spent time in protracted displacement as William had. However, receiving a “soft landing” in a bridging course is arguably better than starting undergraduate studies too quickly and failing modules. Even with the wraparound support of a LC, failing coursework is a powerful demotivator, and can lead to students withdrawing from their studies. For WUSC SRP students like William, this is not the end of the world, as they arrive with permanent protection; however, for students who receive a scholarship to study (such as the France and Italy education pathways), failing is a significant issue.
Developing academic language and literacies is also a significant hurdle, although this is not unique to refugees and many students switching to the western education system struggle with this challenge as well. As William describes it in Chapter 4, “the art of writing essays”, and the underpinning critical thinking that facilitates the development of a position or an argument, was difficult to pick up. And the Uganda and Kenyan education systems are very different – no wonder, when we remember that William first learnt to write in the dust with a stick. While the heart was unquestionably there in the teaching he received in the Ugandan curriculum, the educational experience and technologies were totally different from what he was expected to know (how to take a stance, make an argument), do (read and use evidence to support his argument, written in academic English), and use (libraries, computers). Such gulfs between one context and another require careful training and preparation. This should be a core part of any student’s learning options (because not every student will have the same needs, of course) when taking an educational pathway. But we also acknowledge that students from camps in Kenya and Uganda tend to excel in mathematics. It is important to consider that the education systems in these countries may have evolved over time, especially given William’s experiences from 25 years ago.
Another barrier to William’s learning was his trauma. Recognising and responding to the psychological and emotional challenges that many refugee students face is an important part of academic readiness. While support services such as counselling services can play a vital role in addressing needs of especially people who are resettled due to high needs, SRP students often report challenges, with expectations not meeting reality. The culture shock can exacerbate existing mental health issues, which can be compounded by cultural attitudes towards help-seeking. Counselling carries stigma and must be culturally appropriate. WUSC students often prefer religious counsellors, family or elders, as William did. Moreover, formal counselling requires staff to be trauma-informed and knowledgeable about the kinds of experiences that students might bring with them to their studies. Indeed, this should be a whole-of-institution concern (Baker and Naidoo, 2024). Mentoring can also be a powerful support for developing readiness and preparing for study (Whelan et al., 2023). By pairing local students or faculty members with refugee students, mentorship programs can help them navigate both the academic landscape and the social aspects of university life, fostering a sense of belonging and support. Moreover, much like CS, mentoring can have significant benefits for local students who provide the mentorship (Vickers et al., 2017). A mix of local mentors and those from their diaspora is important as in William’s examples of seeking advice from fellow Sudanese students.
Lastly, policy advocacy and institutional support are critical components in ensuring equitable access to higher education for refugee students (Molla, 2023). Efforts to remove legal barriers, provide comprehensive financial aid, and create inclusive campus environments are essential for enabling these students to thrive. Collaborating with NGOs and international organisations can further enhance the development of comprehensive support programs, ensuring that refugee students receive the assistance they need to succeed academically.
William’s challenges were not restricted to his academic engagement; he also found life in Canada confusing and confronting at times, although positive overall. His experience of hailing a bus or navigating the social expectations of campus life are likely shared by many WUSC SRP alumni, and while none of these experiences prevented William from progressing, they were bumps in the road for his resettlement. There are, of course, limits to what you can learn from reading books or watching videos or form cultural orientations now provided by many educational pathway program about life elsewhere (and remembering that William’s story was pre-web 2.0); it is not until you are living an experience that you find out where the sharp edges are. Luckily for William, his LC and friends were able to provide cultural translation and support for the many micro adaptations (and occasional aggression) that he faced. However, William’s story does point to the need for more cultural orientation, both pre- and post-arrival, and more awareness for pathway organisations like WUSC of the minor, tacit, or assumed knowledge that they could include in their training materials, such as how to hail a bus, although much more guidance is now incorporated into these training materials.
The financial challenges that William experienced are arguably more significant and insidious than the cultural adaptations. While no student should have to work, it is a reasonable expectation that SRP recipients will find light work on campus. William’s story tells a harder tale, sleeping only a couple of hours a night so he could work hard to pay his bills while managing his study. It’s a wonder that William didn’t make himself seriously ill with that schedule, and this is not something that any university would endorse. There need to be financing systems that allow students to manage their responsibilities without having to work so punishingly hard. At this current time of a global cost-of-living crisis, this is even more necessary to think through.
Expanding higher educational pathways that bring protection and opportunity into dialogue is not merely an educational challenge, it is a humanitarian imperative that requires a multi-faceted approach. As the work of the Global Taskforce on Third Country Education Pathways can attest, expansion starts with political and policy advocacy, involving championing existing programs like the WUSC SRP, and encouraging governments, universities, and communities to implement inclusive policies that dismantle barriers to educational access. Complementary education pathways, whether through scholarship, connected learning, resettlement pathways, or a combination of options, can only grow if there is a common goal for increasing higher education for refugee students. In the 2023 Global Refugee Forum, there were 107 pledges on expanding higher education access through a range of options, including new educational resettlement programs modelled on the WUSC SRP.
The major sticking point, however, for expanding the number of student pathway programs is funding. When scholarships are used as the mechanism, this often comes with an imagined cost to universities, unless a costs-foregone argument can be made. While philanthropy has a part to play, it is risky to rest on charitable work and donations to fund such programs and ensure that they remain a durable component of a country’s migration program. Questions need to be asked of who the major beneficiaries are of resettling academically able refugees, who will likely proceed to work in highly skilled professions and therefore pay higher taxes, and to what extent these beneficiaries should fund the costs of administering such programs, as well as paying for the academic and resettlement support that students receive. One set of beneficiaries are future employers who will receive employees, especially those experiencing key skills gaps, such as green energy, nursing, and construction trades. Another set of beneficiaries is universities, as they receive reputational currency from their participation in education pathways. Governments are another beneficiary; community-sponsored refugees have better integration outcomes, including employment and independence (Agrawal, 2019). Finally, the refugee students themselves, and to a lesser extent their family members and communities, are key beneficiaries. All of these parties could contribute to the costs if a clear memorandum of understanding is negotiated.
Local students also have a role to play in funding educational pathways. The WUSC SRP has been maintained for nearly 50 years by the democratic participation of students and student unions in setting a student levy (the amount differs, depending on the university) that covers the personal allowance and other costs, while the university covers the first year of tuition and a year of accommodation. Implementing a student levy typically requires a referendum of the voting student body, which is no small task, but this is key to the ongoing sustainability of the WUSC SRP and ensures that this program remains a youth-to-youth model. Other CS models require/encourage community members to fundraise (e.g., the Community Refugee Integration Settlement Pilot in Australia) on the basis that fundraising increases the buy-in of sponsor groups.
Pushing the thorny issue of funding to one side, complementary pathways – whether community, training, employment, or education – rely on connections, relationships, and collaboration. For education pathways, creating partnerships among universities is an essential strategy to enhance support for refugee students. Initiatives like the Australian Refugee Welcome University Sponsorship Consortium (ARWUSC) exemplify how universities can collaborate to co-design educational pathways and support systems that are tailored to the needs of refugees. Such partnerships allow for the sharing of resources and expertise, as well as sharing the resolving challenges and barriers, which can result in comprehensive support programs. Moreover, joint degree offerings or credit transfer systems can provide flexible learning options that accommodate the unique situations of refugee students, allowing them to navigate their educational journeys more effectively.
Finally, raising awareness about the opportunities available for refugee students is paramount. Conducting outreach campaigns can inform potential students of their educational options while establishing support networks that include educational institutions, NGOs, and community organisations, which can create a robust system of assistance. By implementing these strategies, other countries can rise to the challenge of expanding higher educational pathways for refugees, helping them achieve their full potential and positively contribute to their new communities as productive members of society.
Possibilities of Educational Pathways to Refugee Resettlement
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