Your degree is not enough
In the wake of the rising incidents of anti-Asian racism, it seems fitting to write this. I was doubting if I need to share my experience at all, but Cathy Park Hong’s book Minor Feelings: An Asian American Reckoning hits close to home when she underlined that the thing about silence is, it is silent on why it’s silent. It will disguise and disappear into nothing. I decided that I want my experience to have a digital footprint, however small the number of people who will read it. I do not know if I can call my experience a form of racism at all, but I know that I was feeling discriminated.
I moved to a developed European country in November 2020 in the middle of a global pandemic, leaving my well-paying and comfortable job in a Southeast Asian capital city of a developing country with a view to reuniting with my fiancé and pursuing personal and professional growth. I had worked at my previous organisation for over five years and decided that I wanted to challenge myself to build a career in this European country. I studied here for my master which granted me a one-year visa to look for a job as a highly-skilled migrant.
Realising how tough the job market is plus my rather-niche background, securing an interview was huge for me (my educational background is international relations with a focus on Asia and I have spent all my professional career in an Asia-focused environment). I was extremely excited to get a call from a company I applied to, less than a month after I moved. After the first call, which was similar to a screening interview, I was invited for an interview with the team leader whom I would report to should I got the job. The interview went well (at least I thought so) and they invited me for another interview about two weeks later, which was 1,5 hours talk with the partners of the consultancy. I was able to answer all questions and the atmosphere of the interview was good — suffice to say that I was rather confident, and know that even if I did not get the job, I had already given my best.
They then invited me for yet another interview, which would be the fourth. They mentioned that they wanted to discuss my work permit. Given the visa that I am in, I have already told them in advance that there are 2 ways I would be able to work in the country: (1) a company being my sponsor, or (2) getting a partnership visa with my fiancé. I have told them that I understand not all companies can sponsor a migrant worker, and I am perfectly comfortable taking care of my work permit on my own by applying for a partnership visa with my fiancé. After all, my fiancé and I have decided to settle down in the country and we aim to apply for that visa regardless.
Still very much excited about the opportunity, I said yes. I went to their office (yes, I agreed to a physical meeting even in the middle of a pandemic — that’s how much I wanted the job) to meet one of the partners that already interviewed me before. He started right away by stating that the company would not be able to sponsor me. I assured him that this is not a problem as I have repeatedly mentioned that I would be perfectly fine taking care of it on my own. I thought that would do but little did I know, it evolved into a whole series of questioning my being in the country.
He started questioning about my relationship with my fiancé: when and how did we meet, how long we have been together, what does he do for a living. He then implied that anything could happen with our relationship, which would jeopardise my ability to stay in the country. I was particularly shocked when he asked me if my fiancé pay for my life here and if not, how do I finance myself? Mind you, these were not because he was warm and curious about my love life — these were questions to see if your relationship is “real”. If you are familiar with TLC Show 90 Day Fiancé, you would understand that there are many who think that people from less-developed countries who dated people from more-developed countries do it for the sole purpose of a residence permit.
After exhausting all relationship-related questions, he moved on to questioning the immigration process I aim to undertake and demanded to see proof for my partnership visa application, which I had not even started because I still have about 10 months of work permit in the country. Not satisfied with my answer, he asked for the contact of the immigration officer I liaised with for the visa I am currently in and finally, he copied my ID as the last means of validating my ability to live in the country.
After more or less an uncomfortable one hour of convincing him that I have every right to be in the country, he finally said that it is clear that there is no “hidden agenda” from my end. I am not sure what it implied, but I have my suspicion. And it is not a good one. As if my status in the country is not enough of a topic for him to scrutiny, he raised a question of my intention of building a family here, pointing to the fact that I have a uterus and reproductive organs. Even in my home country, that question is frowned upon.
When I hopped on the train on my way home, I already knew I would not get the job. That’s when it hit me: my degree is not enough.
I do not know whether it’s being a female or an immigrant, or both, or even something else that put me in that situation. What I know is that I have an academic degree, professional experience and every right to be in the country, but that is not enough. I knew that getting a job in this country is hard — getting a job anywhere during a global pandemic is hard — but I never thought that my status would spiral into a place where I second guess and doubt myself about my own self-worth. And so did I wonder if my disappointment is valid; am I being sensitive, dramatic or just not understanding the world of work in the western world?
Some of my friends responded to my story by saying that perhaps the company was just being “careful”. I am not sure how I feel about it. I think allowing ourselves to not thinking critically about such a situation means we have failed to recognise institutionalised racism as we provide a justification to people who treat us as less, even if they did not intend to do it. I recently talked to my friend, an Asian who also lives in this country, about her views on casual racism and micro aggressions that Asians experience on daily basis. She saw that there is a sense of responsibility for us as expat to help educate people who lack sensitivity about racial diversity because she did not necessarily think that people are being racist when they randomly greeted her ni hao on the street. I watched a recent BBC’s video about what it is like to be an Asian woman in the US in which one of the women said something that helped me understand more where my friend was coming from: “There is a sense that we always owe something more, that we should accommodate to what other people need…” My friend is a saint, but as much as I want to share her view, I can’t. Even if my entire interview experience was an unintentional “othering”, there was a reason behind it and I would not take “hidden agenda” as a reason. I regret not doing anything about my entire experience.
Racial treatment aside, I wonder if there is a mismatch between the government’s policy of providing visa for highly-skilled migrants to look for a job and the readiness of companies and organisations to meet these foreign talents. Most, if not all, the vacancies I encountered state “only those with work permit are eligible”. I used to think that the visa I am in would put me in that category, but obviously, I was wrong. While I blamed myself for not researching further before I moved country, I think this situation would worth further observation; it has the risk of snowballing into a flood of wasted, foreign talents, if not happening already.
