Coping with social and cultural stress of studying overseas

I attended a mental health forum in Melbourne recently. What struck me was the high visibility of overseas students in the city, each slinging a shoulder bag, ears plugged to their mobile phones.

Overseas students today represent the bulk of “ethnics” tribalising in Australian university cities, grazing in the food courts, commuting in the trams and trains.

The influx has reportedly strained the city’s infrastructure, increased demands for affordable rental accommodation and better mental health care services for overseas students who pay an average of AUD30,000 (about RM85,300) per year in fees for a three-year engineering or business degree.

While the course fees are a self-transformative investment of some sort, vulnerable students do fall through the cracks from relentlessly trying to catch up with their studies, while working part-time to stay above water in Australia’s costliest cities, Sydney and Melbourne, which according the Quacquarelli Symonds (QS) university rankings, are in the top 10 destinations for students worldwide.

Studies have shown that overseas students lacking fluency in spoken English, hence feeling socially isolated, are more likely to be least satisfied with their learning experience in Australia. Straining to understand the different accents in class – from local as well as foreign lecturers – and struggling to fit in with group work assignments dominated by native speakers further stretches the mental stress.

Add to this, parental expectations to succeed, while adapting to a more non-structured learning environment that emphasises independent learning and critical participation in tutorials – these can push less prepared students to the edge.

Suicidal ideation among overseas students does happen - tragically in some cases. In Victoria alone, 27 students had committed suicide over the last six years. This has led to calls for reforms in counselling services.

As one of the forum panellists noted, wellbeing is fairly easy to grasp, but add “emotional” to the word and the concept and rollercoaster ride becomes more complex and delicate for overseas students coming from “high context cultures” where interpersonal relationships are deeply valued, and understanding of another person’s demeanour relies largely on non-verbal cues.

This is where students who arrive in Australia with “heritable trait tendency to experience a broad range of negative feelings, including loneliness, stress and anxiety” are most vulnerable. If left hidden, unexpressed and untreated, it leads to sleep disorder, depression and, likely, suicidal ideation.

A recent world survey of 12,204 students’ mental health from 175 countries by an Australian agency noted that “one in five prospective international students reported very low life satisfaction, which is indicative of depression” and “one in four … reported feeling an extreme level of pressure to succeed in their future studies” even before they left for Australia.

Overseas students are essential ‘cash cows’ in Australian universities. This media portrayal has reportedly led to more culturally literate, and sympathetic, lecturers initially assessing overseas students’ assignments with more emphasis on content and concrete evidence of research rather than English grammar and syntax.

It is no surprise that overseas students struggle in their first year with concepts and theories in a new academic environment. Based on my years of teaching journalism in Australia and a short stint in the US, native speakers face problems too, in grappling with abstractions besides their less than adequate grasp of grammar, syntax, structure and spelling.

Participating in class discussions and group work can be ‘torturous’ for some. And overseas students, often hesitant in asking lecturers to repeat explanation of concepts and theories, make it hard on themselves in this downward spiral of silence.

Resilient overseas students, however, do work out their own coping mechanisms. A study of overseas medical students at the University of Tasmania notes that by setting their personal goals, and as a group, they were able to “overcome barriers to academic success” and progress through their studies.

The students “demonstrated their persistence to carry on with the course rather than choosing to opt out. This is largely due to their high sense of responsibility towards their family, their unflinching focus on the goal of graduating as medical doctors and support networks from senior international medical students and international peers”.

This comes down to how prospective Malaysian students can better prepare themselves for a new learning experience in the Australian university setting. Sean Ryan, a Malaysian communication and political science graduate from Victoria University, says initial culture shocks are common.

Hence, making friends with the locals, volunteering in the local communities and on-campus, helps in adapting to the Aussie culture – at least for the next three years. To an extent, what you can take away from studying overseas depends on what you able to put in.

Sean has experienced “a lot of things and possibilities” during his university studies. “I'm more critical about things like politics, advocacy, gendered violence, mental health and international students’ wellbeing. My leadership skills have grown. I participated in two leadership programmes … and have an accredited Mental Health First Aid certified by Mental Health First Aid Australia.”

Currently on a Temporary Graduate visa, Sean advises prospective Malaysian students to research broadly before they leave for Australia.

“One thing big in Australia is practising self-care … from mental health to your body. It's about taking care of yourself, and talking to your friends and family about what you're feeling or going through is important.”

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ERIC LOO is a Senior Fellow (Journalism) at the School of the Arts, English & Media, Faculty of Law, Humanities & Arts, University of Wollongong. He is also the founding editor of Asia Pacific Media Educator. - Mkini