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The Global Imaginary of International School Communities
 3030727432, 9783030727437

Table of contents :
Preface
The Announcement
The Move
Trying to Become ‘German’
The International School
Becoming ‘International’
Repatriation
Moving into Education
Researching International Schools
Acknowledgements
Contents
1: Introduction
The Symbol of the ‘Global’
Social Imaginaries
‘Global’ and ‘Local’ Social Imaginaries
The Development of the Global Imaginary in International Schools
The First International School
The Expansion of International Schools
Reorientation
The Boundaries of International Schools
Boundaries and Terminology
Migrant vs. Expat
International School of Germany (ISG)
My Own Positioning
The Structure of This Book
References
2: Constructing the Global Imaginary
Global-mindedness at ISG
Creating a Globally-minded Community
“I’m an inquirer”: Global-Mindedness and the IB
Teaching and Learning Strategies
Conceptualising ‘Global-mindedness’
‘Global-mindedness’ and the Role of ‘Internationality’
A ‘Global’ Imagined Community
A Brand Community
Some Concluding Remarks
References
3: Boundaries and the Exclusion of the ‘Local’
An International School Is Not a ‘Local School’
Physical, Social and Mental Boundaries at ISG
Labels as Boundaries
The Boundaries of Curriculum
Boundaries and the Role of Language
Learning German at ISG
Curricular Field Trips
Creativity, Activity, Service (CAS)
Some Concluding Remarks
References
4: Mapping the Culture of International Schools
Being an Expat Is a Form of Cultural Capital
Group-Making at ISG
“There Are Just Cultural Differences”
Feste
American Cultural Capital
American Consumption Patterns
Different ‘Rules of the Game’: Host Nationals and the Negotiation of Economic Capital
Some Concluding Remarks
References
5: A Global Network
Global Organisations
Council of International Schools (CIS)
International Schools Services (ISS)
Other Organisations
Universities
Regional Networks
Services for Third Culture Kids
The International School Network and the ISG Community
Following ISG Students Through the Network
After School Activities at ISG
International Schools Sports Tournament (ISST)
After School Activities and Elitism
Some Concluding Remarks
References
6: Transitioning Through the International School System
Expat Transitions into International Schools
Stereotyping the ‘local’
Trying to ‘integrate’
Activities for Expats
German Families at ISG
Expectations and Challenges: Exiting the International School System
Some Concluding Remarks
References
7: Moving Forward: Reconstructing the Global Imaginary
The Local Must Become a Part of the Global
It’s Time to Reconsider the Role of ‘National’
We Must Examine the Networks Involved in Reconstructing the Global Imaginary
Final Remarks
References
Index

Citation preview

The Global Imaginary of International School Communities Heather A. Meyer

The Global Imaginary of International School Communities

Heather A. Meyer

The Global Imaginary of International School Communities

Heather A. Meyer Institute for Advanced Teaching and Learning (IATL) University of Warwick Coventry, UK

ISBN 978-3-030-72743-7    ISBN 978-3-030-72744-4 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-72744-4 © The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive licence to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and ­transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations. Cover illustration: © Alex Linch shutterstock.com This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG. The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland

To my Pal.

Preface

This book begins with an illustration of my positionality with the international school system. It is very important to me that the ‘lead-­up’ to the research documented in the subsequent chapters is made as transparent as possible. A colleague once told me that every researcher has a personal connection to their subject matter that is worth sharing: a story of how it all began. Here is mine.

The Announcement One evening in 1995, when I was ten years old, my parents announced at the dinner table that we were going to move from our home in the U.S. to Germany. My Dad explained he had taken on a new job there, and that we were going to move two months later. ‘Germany’ was extremely abstract for me—it seemed so far away, and so hard to imagine, to the point that I remember processing the announcement very easily. I felt excited and very curious about it. Up until that point, I had grown up in a typical white suburban neighbourhood outside of Seattle, Washington. Most of my extended family lived in that area—aunts, uncles, cousins, and both sets of grandparents. As a young child, I had never really been exposed to children from different backgrounds and cultures. In fact, from what I can remember, I had vii

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only seen one other kid in my entire life speaking a language different to my own—a boy in my 4th grade class talking in Spanish to his mother on the school telephone. That being said, I did have some faint idea that my Dad was German. I knew he had a German name that he never used, and that he had not been born in the U.S. I had heard him speaking German with my grandparents every once in a while, but more often than that, he would speak in English to them. I did not grow up bilingually and had quite minimal exposure to this ‘Germanness’ that crept into my family every so often. He taught me and my three younger siblings how to count to 10  in German as a kid, and had also taught us how to recite a short bedtime prayer in the language, though I didn’t actually know what I was saying. All of it was a bit abstract for me. My parents had very different upbringings: My Dad had a German passport, but had grown up internationally. He was born in the Philippines, and grew up speaking German at home. His family moved to Brazil for a few years, and later to Peru where he learned Spanish as his second language. After Peru, they moved to Scotland, where he was sent to the local school, though he spoke no English. This later influenced his stance on ‘integrating’—he learnt English quickly, though found school very challenging. His family returned to the Philippines for a few years while awaiting an American visa. He was able to improve his English by attending an international school there. By the time he ended up in southern California as a teenager, he did what he had grown accustomed to: assimilating as much as possible. He learnt to speak with an American accent, and even went so far as to change his German name to a more ‘American’ one. My Mom is American—born and raised in southern California. She grew up in a white, suburban neighbourhood, and had lived on the West Coast of the United States until leaving for Germany.

The Move We landed in Germany on a cold December afternoon. While my parents had spoken about it to us, it was not until we landed that day that I experienced for the very first time what it was like to actually not

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understand anything. We walked with our bags from the airport terminal to the train station, and I remember being shocked at how ‘German’ my Dad suddenly was. He could navigate the environment—he understood the signs and the voices on the intercom, and knew what train to take to our destination. All of us quickly became completely dependent on him, even for the simplest things. We moved to a small village on the outskirts of a city, and spent about a month adjusting to our new environment. I remember growing almost instantaneously attached to items—silly little objects that would allow me to hold on to memories of my friends and family back in Seattle. One of them was an egg-­shaped rock, and another was a 50-­cent coin—items which were quite ordinary in Seattle, but gained an enormous sentimental value once we had moved abroad. I remember constantly reaching for these items, perhaps as a means to cope with the homesickness and loss I felt—always holding them, displaying them in different spots about my room, and looking after them carefully. I still have these items with me. My siblings and I had two different, but important, forms of support from our parents. Our Dad understood the ways of our new country; and our Mom was able to empathise with this transition experience of leaving friends and family behind in Seattle for the first time, and moving to an unknown place. We could relate to her experiences, and she with ours. Therefore, while my Dad paved the way of the relocation to Germany, my Mom played a very important social and emotional role for us. One month after our arrival, on a snowy January morning we went to our first day of German school. Pressing a pocket-­sized yellow GermanEnglish dictionary into our hands, my parents dropped me and my siblings off at the village primary school. I will never forget that day. I kept my eyes glued to the floor as I entered my new classroom with my teacher. All the kids were staring, and the classroom was completely silent. I immediately noticed that I was not wearing Hausschuhe (indoor shoes, or slippers) like the other kids, as I trudged what felt like tons of dirt with my outdoor shoes through the classroom up to the front, where my new desk was. Unlike the other students who shared desks, I sat alone at the front with my back to the rest of my classmates. I felt as though there were five thousand eyes staring at me. In hindsight, I recognise I was put there so that the teacher could pay close attention to me as I adjusted,

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however at that moment, I wanted desperately to shrink into a back corner somewhere. I became acutely aware of what people were wearing, what they were eating and what they were bringing to school, as I could no longer rely on the spoken word to understand how to blend in. I had to figure out how to change myself to visually match and imitate the other students. There were so many occasions in those first months where I would beg my Mom to get me the same type of shirt or the same type of fountain pen that the other kids had—anything to make me blend in and be ‘normal’ again. In those first several months, school kind of ‘happened’ in front of me—as though I was watching it, but not necessarily participating. Sometimes I would be sitting at my desk, and in the next minute realise that everyone was getting up and leaving. I would not know where they were going, but would aimlessly follow and have to figure out on the spot that it was gym class or an art class. Sometimes it would be a trip to the local church, or an excursion through the forest. One time, I showed up at school only to realise that it was a fieldtrip day into the mountains. I did not have the right shoes, or coat, or food for the excursion and ended up hiking around wondering how far we were going, and what the rest of the day was going to look like. Another time, I showed up for school and everyone in my class had their bicycles with them. I discovered later that it was a day where students would do their bicycle test—an obstacle course to ensure pupils know the rules of the road. I had to borrow someone’s bicycle and do the obstacle course, and remember the policemen running after me on the course, waving their hands and shouting, trying to tell me I was going the wrong way. Each of my siblings have their own (very similar) accounts of their first experiences navigating the village school.

Trying to Become ‘German’ We managed to pick up a foundation of German relatively quickly— likely because it was a very typical ‘sink or swim’ scenario. We were pressured to integrate as quickly as possible, and given the circumstances, we

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did pretty well. We started to understand and also speak small sentences, and I remember feeling a huge surge of accomplishment when the other kids could understand me. I remember the first time I raised my hand in class, to answer a question. I felt so proud of myself afterwards—nearly skipping home from school to tell my parents about it. There were also some personal incentives towards learning German as quickly as possible: me and my sisters made a deal with our parents that if we could prove a decent level of German to them, they would allow us to get our ears pierced. The German public school system was a tricky one to navigate. All four of us siblings attended a village school during the first six months. At that time, kids in the area were divided according to perceived ‘ability’ by their teachers in 4th grade (9-­10 years old). The ones that received the best marks and a teacher recommendation would enter the Gymnasium route, which, upon successful completion of this, would lead to an opportunity to study at university. The alternative route was the Hauptschule—for everyone else. This form of schooling led typically to a vocation. The grades I had received during the first six months, and the German I had picked up were not good enough for the Gymnasium. However, my Dad managed to negotiate a place at a Gymnasium for me— something that is not ordinary (particularly for foreigners). However, the fact that he was German helped, and he was able to persuade them that I would pick up the language and my grades at the school. The following autumn I started at the Gymnasium—taking public transport each morning to the neighbouring town, just like the German kids did. I found the school very challenging, particularly on a social and cultural level. I was the only foreign student in my class and in my year group. Teachers regularly interpreted my poor language skills as lack of intellect, and became very harsh with me. This tactic, looking back, seemed to be geared towards using fear to motivate me to perform better, however, given the barriers to learning I was facing at the time, it was arguably not an effective method. It was extremely demoralising and I found the process very challenging. Nevertheless, despite the difficulties at school, my German improved daily, and I started adapting very quickly to my environment. My siblings and I made a lot of friends in the village, and over a few years, I started to

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feel increasingly more connected to my German ‘roots’ inherited from my Dad. I started communicating with my paternal grandparents in German; would code-­switch between English and German when speaking with my siblings; and began growing increasingly disconnected from the American life I had missed so immensely when we had first arrived. I gradually lost touch with my old friends in the U.S., and I felt frustrated when trying to re-­connect with them on visits back to Seattle. I did not know what to talk to them about anymore. Life in my U.S. hometown had gone on while we were away, and we had adopted a social, linguistic and cultural dimension that that was different to theirs. My Mom also was trying to integrate as much as possible while my Dad was at work and we were at school. She was able to make some friends in the village—particularly after joining the local tennis club. However, her German did not improve at the same rate as us kids—she just was not exposed to the language in the ways we were. Knowing this, we would use our newly acquired language abilities to our advantage, and speak in front of her in German when we did not want her to understand. Gradually, the power dynamics in the family began to shift, as my Mom would often become reliant on us to navigate the local community. We had new, ‘adult’ responsibilities in these moments. We would interpret, translate, and speak for her when going to the bank, asking for directions, going grocery shopping, or sending mail at the post office— tasks we would never have even dreamt of doing in the U.S. Now looking back, this is a very typical situation amongst migrant families, as recorded in the literature, whereby the family structure changes based on the acquisition of local cultural currency.

The International School My family had known about the international school from the beginning of our move to Germany. However, attending an international school was immediately struck off the list of options due to the very high fees—my parents had been in no position to pay the tuition for four children. However, a few years later, my Dad’s company offered to pay the fees in

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his contract renewal negotiations. I remember being elated upon hearing the news. Our first day at the international school was also in January, but I have a very different recollection of it than the other ‘first-­days’ of German school. This one was amazing. I remember my parents bringing us onto the campus, and looking around, I could not help but notice all of the similarities between the international school and my old American elementary school in Seattle. Instantaneously, I received a surge of energy and excitement that I could finally contribute to classroom discussions without pre-­planning my sentences, making sure my language was grammatically accurate, or being worried that I may have missed the context before speaking. Being a foreigner in this space was perfectly acceptable. My homeroom teacher was an American woman who taught us social studies. She introduced me to another American girl in the class who was given the responsibility to show me around the school during my first week. I remember during our break between classes, my newly made friend brought me to the locker area. She told me that all the students decorate their lockers on the inside. She opened her locker to show me what this looked like, as an example. Hanging on her locker door was a magnetic mirror, which she used to apply some wonderfully pink, glittery lip gloss. It was the very first time that I had ever seen lip gloss, and recall asking her what it was. She stared at me in complete dismay and said, “It’s Lip Smacker! You’re American, you’re supposed to know this!” This was my first encounter with a kind of ‘reverse’ culture shock. I felt a sense of inadequacy as an ‘American’ and began noticing the cultural ‘gaps’ I had missed during the years being so focused on integrating into German society. At the international school, I was labelled as an American, though the lapses in cultural knowledge came to the fore very often. I acquired a very strong desire to quickly display quintessentially ‘American’ characteristics and material items in order to navigate the social scene at my new school. I found myself consistently trying to downplay the German influence I had been attempting to acquire in the years prior. Interestingly, during this time, we did not move house, though in my view, we experienced very drastic cultural transitions each day. In the first year at the international school, we would return home to the village and immediately assume our ‘old’ identity of attempting to fit in  locally. I

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attended my ballet classes in the village, and hung out with my friends in a very ‘German’ world. The next morning, I would get up and go to school, where I dropped these attempts and became an ‘expat’—trying to assume an identity of what I had considered to be a ‘typical’ American. My main goal in both environments was to blend in as much as possible.

Becoming ‘International’ Overall, the international school made life in Germany a lot easier for my entire family. It re-­framed the experience of being a ‘foreigner’ in Germany into something very positive, and the school just had so much to offer. We had become part of a community of fellow expatriates who could understand, and to some extent validate our experiences finding it challenging to learn German and integrate into German society. This was especially important for my Mom, who now had a brand new and engaging social environment in which she could thrive again. The school importantly provided a colourful, accessible education programme that we could all understand and through which we could do well and gain confidence. All of our grades bounced back up again, almost immediately, which in itself helped justify the significant impact language and cultural dissonance had had on our academic development and progress in the local schools. My siblings and I became involved in an array of fun extra-­curricular activities in English that would take us abroad (e.g. sporting events at other international schools based in other countries). The international school drastically changed our lives in Germany, for the better. As we became increasingly involved with the international school community, we began losing ties with the village. In some ways, our involvement with the international school made our local life in the village insignificant—even irrelevant. During our last year in Germany, we were entirely removed from the ‘local’—connectivity to friends, activities and events in the village had been completely lost. Therefore, when we speak of our ‘Germany’ experience in my family today, we reference it according to two ‘chapters’: The first ‘chapter’ is our village life—integrating into local society, going to German school, living

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in German, having German friends, and taking part in local events, festivals and activities. The second ‘chapter’ is our experience of being a part of the vibrant international school community—gaining new friendships with ‘fellow expats’, living in English again, travelling internationally for extracurricular activities with the school, and becoming a member of an elite, affluent, globally-­connected society.

Repatriation Our time in Germany eventually came to an end after 7  years living there. Repatriation hit my family quite hard. We had returned to Seattle with the expectation of easily integrating back into our old lives, but we very quickly realised that it was more challenging than we had anticipated. Despite feeling very ‘American’ in Germany, in the U.S. public school system, we felt entirely out of touch on a cultural level. We had very large gaps in my understanding of popular culture—including what other American kids our age valued, admired and found important. It was a shock for us to have to essentially re-­learn how to ‘talk’, ‘act’ and ‘think’ like a ‘real American’. My siblings went through similar experiences, in fact, I remember my brother frantically watching American football games on TV, hoping to learn the rules of the game after being made fun of at school for not knowing what a quarterback is. Generally, the return to the U.S. took us all by surprise—we missed the international school environment, in which feelings of ‘foreignness’ were anticipated, facilitated with tolerance, and entirely understood by the community.

Moving into Education During university, I had my heart set on moving abroad again, and after finally graduating, I took on a teaching assistantship in Austria. There, I worked in range of different schools—some private, some public. Some of them were white majority schools, others very diverse. My experience working in these different contexts showed me the substantial

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discrepancies between the ways in which different schools assumed particular futures for their students, and reminded me very much of my own experiences being pressured to integrate in the German school system and trying to be as ‘German’ as possible, while later, at the international school, my world had been framed very differently: there, I was a ‘Third Culture Kid’, and my ‘foreignness’ was normalised and even celebrated. Over the past decade, I have had similar experiences teaching in both globally-­oriented universities and locally-­oriented, vocation-­focused universities. Each institution establishes its own vision of its students, their presumed requirements, and assumed future mobilities.

Researching International Schools I started researching these themes in 2011, when I reached out to my old international school in Germany, requesting to carry out ethnographic research across all areas of the school community. I was welcomed with open arms by the Head of School and three Principals, who were all very supportive of the research I had proposed, and throughout my time spent there. They played a key role in building relationships around the school that were vital in this research. Returning back to my old school as a researcher was an interesting experience. The school had changed quite a lot since I had attended in the late 1990s as a student. It had grown significantly—nearly all the staff had changed (except for a handful), and the campus had developed quite significantly. There were many times where I found myself getting lost in the buildings in the first couple weeks, which was very surprising to me. However at the same time, there were bouts of nostalgia, for example, my old locker was still there. Therefore, there were moments in which I had surges of memories, and others where I felt the school had changed to an unrecognisable state. This is important, as it also led to some of the choices I had to make regarding the tense used to write the observations. Because the school had changed so much, in a relatively little amount of time, I see my fieldwork as situated in a very particular time and space. For this reason, all ethnographic details associated with my research in this book have been written in the past tense. International school

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leadership changes notoriously quickly, teachers come and go, and their communities are particularly transient. The school community may look very different now. Therefore, this book should be read with that in mind. My fieldwork took place periodically over the course of three years: between 2012 and 2015. I did participant observations across all facets of school life, including in classrooms, hallways, break out spaces, after school activities, school events on and off campus, Parent Teacher Organisation (PTO) meetings, and social activities outside of school. To supplement these observations, I conducted interviews with administrators, members of the board, teachers, members of staff, students, parents and alumni. I also held focus groups with 11th and 12th grade high school students. In order to fully protect my participants’ and the school’s anonymity, I have withheld information in this book that would have risked their identification. I have used the pseudonym, ‘International School of Germany’ (ISG) for the school. All of my participants have also been given pseudonyms and some professional titles have been slightly changed to ensure anonymity. I am very grateful for the community’s openness and willingness to share their stories with me. These stories shaped my research, and brought to light some very important themes which I have addressed in this book. I hope my observations, discussions and experiences within the ISG community generate discussions within the wider international school network, to further the sector and to build the best possible futures for host national and expatriate community members. Oxford, UK 2021

Heather A. Meyer

Acknowledgements

It goes without saying that this book would not have been possible without the enormous support from the ISG community, for giving me the opportunity to explore, observe and get to know the school. The name of the school and all community members have been given pseudonyms for anonymity purposes, however I wish to thank every single person from this community—particularly the Head of School and those who were in other leadership positions at the time—who shared their stories with me, provided invaluable insight, and were committed to the development of the sector. A special thank you to members of the PTO for inviting me into the adult social spaces of the community; to the teachers who offered to open their classrooms for me to conduct my observations; to the members of staff around the school who graciously sat down with me to discuss their roles; to the students who let me tag along, hear their stories, and observe their activity on campus; and to the parents who shared their experiences, insights and perspectives on their lives in Germany. I am very grateful for the community’s generosity and interest in the themes outlined in this book. I would like to acknowledge the innumerable forms of inspiration I have taken from academic, professional and personal spheres of influence. I am absolutely indebted to the support I have received over the past decade from Heidi Armbruster and Gabriele Budach, for their unspeakable amount of advice, guidance and positivity. xix

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I must thank my former colleagues and mentors at the University of Southampton for the support and inspiration at various times during the development of this project. In particular, I am very grateful to Patrick Stevenson and Ulrike Meinhof for their guidance. Many thanks also to Anne-­Meike Fechter for providing invaluable advice. Esteban, I am inspired by your resilience, patience, and unwavering determination every single day. This book is a product of the inspiration you give me. Thank you for your belief in my ideas, your resolute support and untiring enthusiasm towards the development of this entire project. I am eternally grateful for your encouragement. The perspectives outlined in this book have been inspired by my experiences with my family growing up. Thank you, to my Mom and Dad, for taking me on this journey, opening the doors to seeing the world in different ways, and instilling a heightened sense of curiosity to keep exploring. I am so grateful for your support and love throughout the last decade as this work developed. Thank you to my siblings, whose individual and unique intercultural experiences and insights have inspired me so much. I am grateful to my colleague and business partner H. Ingrid for all of the incredible knowledge, perspective and insight you have provided to me—thank you for reading some of the content of this book and giving me such valued feedback. A special acknowledgement to my Oma for the inspiration, positive vibes and motivation to always keep going no matter what. Thank you to Camila, Alejandro and Olga for years of support as this work developed. Many thanks to Palgrave Macmillan, in particular Rebecca Wyde and Eleanor Christie. I am very appreciative for all of the understanding and support you provided throughout the entire process. A special thank you to the anonymous Peer Reviewers who provided very rich and insightful feedback towards the development of this book—I am very grateful.

Contents

1 Introduction  1 2 Constructing the Global Imaginary 41 3 Boundaries and the Exclusion of the ‘Local’ 75 4 Mapping the Culture of International Schools115 5 A Global Network155 6 Transitioning Through the International School System187 7 Moving Forward: Reconstructing the Global Imaginary217 Index239

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1 Introduction

A few years ago, Maria, the mother of an international school alumnus described to me how her son Matthew had applied for admission onto an MBA programme at a highly regarded university in the United States by submitting, along with his application, a personal statement answering the question, ‘To what extent do you consider yourself to be ‘global’?’ Around that same time, Matthew also applied for an internship with a multinational company, where he was asked to submit a statement about his ‘intercultural’ experiences. In his responses, he reflected on his international upbringing as an expat, his international school education, and his journey in developing intercultural competencies as a ‘global citizen’. Matthew’s applications were very successful: he ended up receiving an offer from the company, and a place on the MBA programme. The statement questions asked by two decisively different parties not only illustrate the popularity, versatility and interpretability of the terms, but also highlight them as significant qualities worth writing (and reading) about. This example shows how both educational and professional environments place value on these terms as prized qualities worth having, and how important it is to be able to evidence and demonstrate ownership of them. International schools play an important role in preparing © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 H. A. Meyer, The Global Imaginary of International School Communities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-72744-4_1

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H. A. Meyer

their students for these opportunities. They provide institutional capital (typically in the form of an international education diploma), shape students’ perceptions about global citizenship, and crucially, make them aware of their own position within this globality. The beauty of concepts like ‘global citizen’ is that we can interpret them in any way we like. While there are definitions for these terms which are largely agreed upon within academic and expert circles, within popular culture, these terms fly around, quite open to interpretation. In fact, we come across the notion of being ‘global’ all the time—whether it is on TV, online, from our friends, family, employers, etc. For example, an online search for ‘global citizenship’ raises a wide range of definitions found in forums, articles, ads, e-books and blogs, which highlights even further the degree to which people around the world are interested in this topic. Our understanding of being ‘global’ might be entirely different to the person sitting next to us. Because of this, terms like ‘global’ can be both inclusive and exclusive—both attainable and out of reach. Under certain definitions, anyone can be ‘global’ and anyone can become ‘global’, while under others, the label becomes inaccessible. At the same time, the flexibility of these terms allows them to be convincingly moulded and interpreted in a variety of ways. Most significantly, the globe symbol can generate a sense of unity, connectedness, or belonging. Throughout history it has been used in various texts and art to symbolise a variety of things—particularly, as Lippincott (2002) argues, it portrays power and knowledge. It is an extremely versatile symbol. We see it being used everywhere—in international organisations, multinational companies and educational institutions. It is visible in an array marketing campaigns as a way to establish a particular ‘global’ orientation and outreach to prospective consumers. The globe symbol is generally revered as something positive—terms like ‘global-mindedness’, ‘globally-relevant’, and ‘globally-oriented’ tend to have constructive connotations. Particularly within educational contexts, having a ‘global’ dimension to coursework, programmes and teaching is received very positively. Some months ago, whilst in a meeting with colleagues discussing a new university degree programme, the topic of ‘the global’ came up as an important concept and quality that should be featured in the programme. This was understandable due to its value as a

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term, but it was particularly striking to hear how each person in the room had their own idea of what ‘the global’ meant, how it would be taught, and how students would ultimately be able to apply it to real-life situations after their studies. Still, regardless of the varying definitions of the term, ‘the global’ had to be a visible feature and significant component of the programme in question. Qualifying bodies, institutional stakeholders and prospective students and their families needed to see it, and the educational establishments are ready to show it. One thing is for sure: the ‘global’ most certainly can be a money-maker. This book focuses on the ways we are interpreting, practicing, qualifying and validating what it means to be ‘global’ within educational contexts. Significantly, it looks into how educational institutions and organisations are able to capitalise on this movement towards the attainment of a ‘global’ identity. As the title of the book suggests, I turn to the international school system as an example of how the ‘global’ successfully becomes a powerful identity—on an institutional, community, and personal level. International schools, in their ‘traditional’ sense, are known to be English-medium institutions, located across the world, that are specifically dedicated to providing an international education for both expatriates and host country nationals. They typically offer an international curriculum, such as the International Baccalaureate (IB) diploma programme—widely revered as one of the leading and transferable forms of education currently offered around the world. An international school education can provide students with a ‘golden ticket’ into the top-­universities in the world; into a network of well-connected individuals of different cultures with access to capital; and into an array of future international job opportunities. They can be a pricey but rewarding investment. These schools have traditionally attracted expatriates from all over the world, seeking a form of education that allows for smooth transitions as the family relocates from country to country. Therefore, international schools are uniquely positioned not only as top educational providers, but also vital for the successful development of expat communities. They provide a globally-oriented education, while also working to facilitate a globallyoriented identity and sense of belonging for internationally mobile families. At the same time, just as the ‘global’ is a powerful identity that guides international schools, it also creates behaviour that can lead to feelings of

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exclusivity and otherness. It can be restrictive: limited to certain people, ideas, and experiences. So, in order to untangle the issue, we need to discuss the idea and symbol that is the ‘global’.

The Symbol of the ‘Global’ When I speak of the ‘global’, I speak of a very particular community symbol that works in a variety of interrelated ways: it unifies, it is aspirational, it is flexible and versatile, and it is culturally valued. At the same time, the symbol is also exclusionary and can promote exceptionalism. First, it works as a unifier, and is therefore an inclusive concept. When we consider ourselves ‘global’ or position ourselves towards a ‘global’ symbol, we are imagining ourselves in a world that (ideologically speaking) can be envisioned as one ‘whole’ and connected. For example, movements such as Extinction Rebellion have resonated worldwide to highlight environmental issues affecting people globally. The movement has demonstrated a degree of global solidarity and those involved can exhibit a global orientation: perceiving themselves as united towards a global cause, globally responsible, and globally positioned. Second, the notion of the ‘global’ can also operate as an aspirational symbol. Following Cohen (1985), some of the best symbolic representations of community are ones that transmit an aspirational quality. A very popular example of labelling someone as ‘global’ relies on the perception that ‘global’ individuals have experienced a degree of transnationality. This may be someone who can simultaneously be classified as a ‘globetrotter’ or ‘jet-setter’, or perhaps someone who grew up or works ‘abroad’. Of course, this immediately leads to other aspirations that are associated with these ideas, including privilege and wealth. The popular perception of ‘being global’ involves a particular type of international travel or transnational mobility. On the one hand, a globally-mobile family attending an international school might be perceived, or may perceive themselves as ‘global’, however on the other hand, a ‘migrant’ from the same country, with the same trajectory of international mobility, but perhaps with less resources, would not be classified, or even classify themselves in the same manner. A ‘global’ orientation, or being ‘global’ is often linked to

1 Introduction 

5

privilege in popular imagination—something that is generally worth striving for1. The desire to ‘be global’ as something positive and aspirational has been written about for many years—highlighting its establishment in a range of sectors, including business, urbanism, health, language and of course, education. For example, Rofe (2003), speaks of this desire or aspiration to become ‘global’ within the context of a ‘gentrifying elite class’ living in major cities; Cabrera and Unruh (2012) see ‘being global’ as an essential quality in successful management leadership, and significantly, they argue it is an imperative aspiration for any strong business leader in today’s world; Cole et al. (2011) relate ‘being global’ to the public health sector—calling for a specific set competencies to be required from global health professionals; and Aneesh (2015) argues that becoming ‘global’ requires a degree of ‘neutralisation’—in particular, he looks into the quest to acquire a ‘neutral accent’ within the context of Indian call centres, as a means to meet the demands of economic globalisation. The process of subverting one’s national or local identity markers in light of attaining one that is less defined by concrete geopolitical spaces is another example of a technique to attain a desirable quality towards becoming ‘global’. The ‘global’ can therefore be practiced, and one’s level of success at becoming ‘global’ can be ranked or measured. Thirdly, the unifying and aspirational qualities or characteristics of ‘the global’ symbol make it a form of cultural currency. People want to be a part of something that is globally-relevant. Therefore ‘the global’ works as a symbol which can carry a significant amount of cultural value in today’s world. Being classified as ‘global’ or demonstrating what are considered to be ‘global’ characteristics (regardless of how they are contextually defined) is generally seen as valuable, worth investing in, and something that will bring positive returns. We can even see it as a type of commodity, which can be bought or learnt through very particular channels—something we see in international schools and in some higher education institutions. The more ‘globally-relevant’ the programme, school,  See, for example a graduation speech at an international school (ElBaradei 2003); and an article by a former international school student (Adriano 2018). Both examples highlight how a global orientation is connected to privilege. 1

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and/or curriculum, the more enticing it becomes for clients seeking an education that is ‘sold’ as relevant to future participation in the global marketplace. Significantly, from a marketing perspective, the ambiguity of the label, ‘global’ is in fact its biggest strength as a product. Each institution can define and fashion the symbol in a very particular way to meet client expectations and requirements. Moreover, each institution can also shape how they portray the qualification that validates the ‘global’ competencies attained by the student. Kamola (2014) addresses the discrepancies within Global Studies programmes, where different members of faculty commonly “[lack] a clear conceptual consistency besides the vague sense that ‘the world is now global’” (2014, p. 518). One possible ramification of this ambiguity is that a student that graduates with a ‘Global Studies’ degree from one university might graduate with a global orientation that vastly differs from a student graduating from another university, even with the same degree title. This global orientation and accompanying set of ‘global’ competencies might have been envisioned entirely differently at each respective institution. In the end, individuals invest in a form of institutional cultural currency that is widely accepted as being valued within the global market—regardless of how it has been defined. The international education sector has capitalised greatly on the increasing desire to acquire globally-relevant knowledge and skills. In the U.K. we have seen a growing number of private language institutes which advertise learning English as a form of cultural value that is packaged as globally relevant. What is particularly interesting about this phenomenon, is that many of these language schools and programmes target more affluent sectors of society by promising a global orientation to learning. In fact, according to the British Council (2017, p. 1), over 500,000 adults and children go the U.K. to learn English each year, with the intention of returning to their home countries with a newly acquired globally relevant skill. It is a very lucrative market geared towards those desiring a very particular orientation. This leads to the fourth characteristic of the ‘global’ symbol, as it is exclusionary: it operates on a mass level as a relational concept to the ‘local’, and its aspirational and culturally valued qualities make it ‘exceptionalist’. In popular culture, the ‘global’ is frequently imagined as

1 Introduction 

7

specifically not ‘local’—creating a dichotomy in the process of constructing and reproducing the concept, regardless of context2. However, as will be shown later in this book, often the process of polarisation works to the benefit of particular organisations, especially international schools, as they are seen as different or exceptional to their local counterparts. The relationship between the ‘local’ and the ‘global’ is very important in their symbolic construction. The rather abstract nature of the terms poses some challenges, as they are very difficult to define concretely without context. For this reason, these ambiguous terms are often pinned up against each other in order to establish a refined, differentiated meaning, often sitting on two ends of a spectrum (Calhoun 2008; Igarashi and Saito 2014). Meaning-making often occurs through relational ideas—we can understand what something is, by looking at specifically what it is not. Thus one of the recurring themes in this book is the notion of ‘othering’ in international school communities—which is the process of categorising and classification based on understandings of ‘sameness’ and ‘difference’. We use this process to understand our own position in relation to ‘other’ people, as Dervin argues, “othering is not just about the other, it is also about the self ” (2012, p. 187). Therefore, ‘the global’ as a symbol is entangled in a contradictory web which signals unity by highlighting our commonalities; idealises itself through its aspirational and culturally valued qualities; promotes divisions through its exceptionalism; and relies on ‘othering’ in order to maintain its privileged status. Nevertheless, the flexibility of ‘the global’, that I have already alluded to, means that this contradictory dichotomy can be resolved, and the interpretation of ‘the global’ can become more inclusive. These aforementioned characteristics of the ‘global’ as a symbol form the basis of the concept of the ‘Global Imaginary’, as featured in the book title.

 For attempts to understand the interplay between the global and the local in a more fluid manner, see for example, the idea of ‘glocal’ (Robertson 1995). This is not a term that is used regularly within international school communities or international school literature. 2

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Social Imaginaries In order to conceptualise the notion of a ‘Global Imaginary’, I first need to turn to the idea of a ‘social imaginary’, as envisioned by Charles Taylor (2002, 2004). He argues that social imaginaries are “the ways in which people imagine their social existence, how they fit together with others, how things go on between them and their fellows, the expectations that are normally met, and the deeper normative notions and images that underlie these expectations” (2002, p. 106).

The social imaginary is how people perceive their world; how they perceive themselves and others; and how they interpret behaviours, symbols, discourses, and emotions, among others. As highlighted by Taylor (2002), the social imaginary shapes what we perceive as ‘normal’ and informs certain expectations. This is significant, as norms, values and assumptions are products of a deeply rooted socialisation process. Social imaginaries are therefore created through socialisation. We learn about our social world through various agents that more or less ‘teach us’ how to interpret and understand our social world. This includes family, friends, teachers, institutions and the media. Our social imaginary is shaped by this input or consumption of ideas, and constantly evolves. It is fluid and malleable. In other words, our social imaginaries can change regularly3. Therefore, generally speaking, I see the ‘Global Imaginary’ as a social orientation towards this ‘global’ symbol. It is very a particular way in which individuals perceive, classify and position themselves (and others) in their social world, as related to this symbol. As seen, developing this orientation is part of a particular socialisation process, and schooling can play a significant role in this. Therefore, in this book I demonstrate how powerful a ‘global’ orientation can be, when cultivated systematically within a particular environment.

 It is also important to note that by ‘imaginary’, I am not referring to something that is not ‘real’. We can look at ‘imaginary’ as not only a perspective on reality, but also as a ‘social practice’ (Appadurai 1996, p. 31). Social imaginaries are shaped through discourse and behaviours. This is where they become visible. 3

1 Introduction 

9

‘Global’ and ‘Local’ Social Imaginaries In 2010, I was working as a teaching assistant at a primary school in Austria, located in an area of town that had a high density of first-­generation ‘migrant’ residents. Due to this, most of the school comprised first and second-generation ‘immigrant’ children, who were learning German through the ‘sink-or-swim4’ style of schooling and integration. While I had been originally hired to teach the students English, the position itself became about teaching them both English and German simultaneously. The children and their parents originated mostly from Turkey, the Middle East, and the Balkans. Most were learning German and English as second and third languages, though there were many students who were on their fourth or fifth language. Each class was particularly diverse on a multitude of levels: ethnic, racial, socio-cultural, religious, linguistic and academic. The school was highly focused on ensuring that these children would be ‘integrated’ into local society and culture. There were very few references to the cultural diversity of the school community on display. Rather, corridors and classrooms were decorated with locally-oriented symbols, including maps of Austria and the local city, references to local events, pictures of students participating in the city’s cultural events, and German language learning posters. The primary aim of the school was made very clear on campus (and on the school website): to provide students the cultural knowledge and skills required to become effective, responsible local citizens. Just across town was an international school, attended by both local and ‘expat’ children. Their parents were generally white professionals working locally. The school was English-medium, and offered the IB programmes. On entering the international school, the focus was almost the opposite of the ‘integration’ agenda of the local school nearby: it was a ‘global’ space, where cultural difference was celebrated in unity. The walls were adorned with symbols recognising the global orientation of the school—flags from different countries hanging from the ceilings, posters representing global humanitarian initiatives, and flyers advertising service  Otherwise known as ‘submersion’ or ‘mainstreaming’ education. For more on this see for example, Baker and Wright (2017). 4

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learning opportunities abroad. Unlike the other school across town, there was no official ‘integration’ agenda. The emphasis was on ensuring students became effective, responsible ‘global’ citizens. The striking difference between the two schools in their approaches towards children who had grown up mobile comes down to their contrasting orientations towards symbols. The first school positioned itself and its students within a ‘local imaginary’—a framework oriented under a local national symbol. A ‘local imaginary’ positions subjects according to criteria it deems as relevant for mobility and success within a ‘local’ environment and each ‘locality’ will have its own set of imagined standards. A ‘local imaginary’ prepares children for a local education, local jobs and local mobility. These are reinforced in schooling through nationally-­oriented curricula and systems which encourage active civic participation in the nation. Therefore, teachers in this school generally approached the children in the role of a mainstream cultural authority figure that would ultimately guide the pupils towards becoming integrated members of local society. The manner in which teachers spoke about their ‘migrant’ students was largely based on socio-economic hardship, difficulties in language acquisition and the response to a new educational culture; and concerns regarding their cultural, linguistic and religious integration into local society. Nearly all of the activities that we did with the students were based on an integration agenda. Conversely, the international school across town positioned itself within a framework that reproduced a ‘global imaginary’. This involves building and cultivating a social orientation towards a ‘global’ symbol, in which students can imagine their position within the world as globallyrelevant. It places subjects according to specific conditions seen within that context as relevant for mobility and success on a ‘global’ scale. For an international school, this might be interpreted as providing an ‘international’ (or ‘non-local’) curriculum, operating in a language that is not the official language of the host country, and encouraging international travel and residency abroad—including preparing students for university and employment outside the host country. The relational characteristic of the ‘global’ as the opposite of the ‘local’, is also visible when used in educational settings.

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 he Development of the Global Imaginary T in International Schools The global imaginary of international school communities has been constructed and reconstructed since their conception in the nineteenth century. The development of this imaginary is best demonstrated through an examination of how these schools have been documented over time. These accounts illustrate how the international school system has successfully maintained its position within the changing educational market, specifically by cultivating a strong global imaginary throughout the past 150 years.

The First International School Some of the earliest publications on international school education emerged in the mid-nineteenth century, in the midst of an initiative to establish a series of schools across Europe that would aim to facilitate intercultural tolerance. An article written for the Journal of the Society of Arts in 1863 highlights the objectives of this emerging system of education: “In these colleges children of all nations could be educated together, and would learn, almost in playing, different languages, and would become acquainted by staying in different countries, with the habits and manners of foreign nations. The time necessary for acquiring the complete ­knowledge of modern languages, which forms so important a branch of education, would be in a great degree saved; national prejudices and antipathies would be modified, a new generation, endowed with more liberal and enlightened views would be formed, the whole tending to the promotion of peace and social progress in the various nations” (Le Neve Foster et al. 1863, p. 336).

The passage shows some of the original ideas on an emerging international school network, whereby a conglomeration of nationality representatives would establish an intercultural learning environment conducive to tolerance and progressive thought. This early ideological

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direction has gone relatively unchanged over the past 150 years. The ideas remain the same today: the notion that ‘national prejudices’ can be broken down through intercultural communication within a progressive system of education. This passage also shows that the original conceptions of the international school system were primarily ideological. Moreover, other writings around that time suggest that there was indeed an early-forming market-driven incentive behind this system. Novelist Charles Dickens took a particular interest in the founding of the International College at Spring Grove (Sylvester 2002) and wrote in 1864 the following passage: “…an educated European ought not to feel himself as a stranger in any country of Europe. That, for many reasons, the intellectual, commercial, economic, and political relation between people and people call for strong recognition in a system of education suited to the day. That such a recognition would be obtained by a system of uniform studies carried on simultaneously in different countries, and in their several languages, so that the pupils in passing from one nation and language to another, would find no notable change in the course of study to retard the progress of their education. That they gather together in each school of boys from all parts of Europe destined to occupy high political, administrative, commercial and industrial positions in their different countries, would itself add greatly to the efficiency of this method of training” (1864, p. 106).

The passage indicates an expectation that such students would then return to “their different countries” (Dickens 1864, p. 106) with intercultural skills that would ultimately serve to acquire and influence their prospective roles as elites within different sectors of a national society. This is evidence of how international schooling, since its inception, was meant to provide the necessary cultural currency to create leaders—ones that will occupy high positions. Such original publications on the rationale towards the establishment of international schools demonstrate the foundations of the global imaginary. In particular, international schools are linked here—right from the beginning—to privilege and elitism5. This  Throughout the 19th and 20th centuries, the conceptualisation and/or development of international schools and their communities are largely white, Anglo-European, heterosexual male domi-

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excerpt also illuminates the objective of ensuring smooth educational transitions for internationally-mobile students. Both passages point towards the value of the host society—that pupils would learn the host language, and gain the cultural knowledge form their host country as a form of cultural knowledge to bring back to the home country, where it would be economically and politically beneficial. This suggests that some of the earliest conceptions of international school education were founded along the spectrum of the local and the global, by perceiving local knowledge and skills as globally relevant. The belief that one could learn skills from other host nations and return as a “citizen of the world” (Dickens 1864, p.  107) to the home country with the knowledge to incite progressive thinking is worth further consideration in today’s international school system. The origin of the first ‘international school’ is a debated issue amongst scholars, and varies according to the definition used. Sylvester (2002) argues that the International College at Spring Grove in London (1866-1889) may have been the first international school, and was founded under the premise that a network of such schools located throughout Europe could benefit particularly nomadic students. Conversely, Hayden and Thompson (2008) point to the European School of Maseru6, which was founded in 1890  in the British Colony of the Basutoland (modern-day Lesotho) where it was established to provide an English-medium education for children of missionaries, traders and officials of the British administration based in the region (Maseru Prep 2020). Hayden and Thompson (2008) also link the origin of what might be considered the ‘traditional’ international school to the International School of Geneva, which was created in 1924 for the children of employees at the newly founded League of Nations. That same year, the Yokohama International school was established similarly to serve expatriate families—children of diplomats and wealthy businessmen. However, with nant. Gendered experiences of internationally-mobile families and the ‘expatriate professional’ were largely linked to the ‘trailing spouse’ narrative up until the early 21st century. Still, there is a large dearth in literature which examines gendered experiences in these ‘global’ spaces in a more dynamic and inclusive manner. While it does not fit within the scope of this particular book, it is a recommended area for further research. 6  The European School of Maseru was renamed later to its current name, Maseru Preparatory School.

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these debates relating to the establishment of the very first international schools emerges another theme that has helped construct the global imaginary of these communities: the former and current debates on the original international schools seem to be largely focused on the demographic of the school’s student body. If all the students in attendance are of one nationality, can it be a ‘legitimate’ international school? Therefore, the establishment of Maseru Prep indeed catered to internationally-­ mobile families, the cultural diversity of the school was not substantial ‘enough’, in comparison to that seen at the International School of Geneva or the Yokohama International School. The question in fact sets the foundation for the establishment of the field, and ultimately influenced the way in which the global imaginary of international schools has been constructed over time. The key features of the first international schools, as defined by international school scholars, appear to have be largely based on international mobility and the conglomeration of national representatives to form a ‘culturally diverse’ student body.

The Expansion of International Schools The international school market continued to grow exponentially, especially during the 1950s and 1960s, when schools began opening for the increasing number of internationally-mobile families from Europe and North America (Ronsheim 1967). The system’s European and American influences are still observed today (see for example, Fitzsimons 2019; Tanu 2018). While scholarship on international schools was generally very limited during the mid-twentieth century, the small body of literature that is available focuses on the expat ‘returnees’: how expatriate children, mainly American, could avoid ‘strangeness’ in their passport country, the U.S., once repatriating (e.g. Ronsheim 1967, 1970). Jonietz (2012) points out that this trend can be connected to the political climate of the post-WWII era and the beginning of the Cold War. The general interest in scholarship became centred on notions of loyalty to the passport country, and the extent to which alienation in one’s ‘homeland’ could be avoided.

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One particularly noteworthy outcome of this time period is John and Ruth Hill Useem’s contribution to the development of the term, ‘Third Culture Kid’ (TCK). They began exploring the notion of a ‘Third Culture’ together in India during the 1960s. Their main target group was overseas American nationals living abroad, and they became interested in understanding the ‘cultural patterns’ created by individuals who were “[mediating] between societies” (Useem and Useem 1967, p. 131). This included both Indian nationals and American nationals who were working together, and thus engaging in these cultural patterns—though the ‘local’ vantage point is overshadowed through the subsequent focus on the American expatriate experience. Tanu (2015) rightfully argues that there are conceptual implications on this that followed. The Useems defined the ‘Third Culture’ during the 1960s as the “cultural patterns created, learned and shared by the members of different societies who are personally involved in relating their societies, or sections thereof, to each other” (Useem and Useem 1967, p. 131). Later however, Ruth H. Useem (1973) developed this further, by exploring the experiences of expatriate American children who were growing up abroad— examining how a ‘third culture’ is created by expatriates through a shared (and privileged) experience of growing up and living internationally. It is here that she uses the term ‘third culture children’. Three years later, Ruth H. Useem and Richard Downie published an article (1976) which coins the now popular term, ‘Third Culture Kid’, in which they focus on American expatriate children growing up and attending overseas schools7. The overall context of John Useem and Ruth H. Useem’s research is significant, as it lays the foundation on which future developments of the concept were later built. The emphasis on the role of national belonging and national citizenship during the Cold War period, when the Useems’ research was conducted and disseminated, reflects the sentiments of the time.

 These ‘overseas schools’ or international schools, seem to have been in various formats including U.S. Department of Defence Schools and ‘camp schools’ established by oil companies, missionary schools, among others (Useem and Baker Cottrell 1996). 7

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These sentiments are also visible in the early work of Robert Leach, who was one of the very first established scholars of international school education8. He argued in 1969 that: “each nation state tends to perpetuate the myth that it is permanent and somehow mystically essential to the identity of its citizenry. In short, in each country, the schools teach national history as a kind of magnet around which to establish common national identity. Outsiders are technically “outlaws” as far as the national laws are concerned and often potential or actual enemies—in the view of certain national education systems” (p. 5).

He follows this argument by stating that international schools depart from the “primacy of nationalism” in that they are forced to construct their position within their host nations, without relying on them to become legitimate educational institutions (1969). This highlights the tensions we continue to see today between local and global imaginaries that are ­constructed within schools in the same country. The market plays an important role in this. While Leach (1969) confidently discusses the international school’s departure from methodological nationalism, the role of nationality and national belonging clearly remains even today an essential ingredient in the identity and legitimacy of the vast ‘inter-­ national ’ school system. The 1960s also saw the founding and first developments of the International Baccalaureate (IB), in which Robert Leach also played an important role. It was devised after calls for more assistance to the growing number of ‘expatriate’ families and international schools around the world. Internationally-mobile families required more support as they encountered cultural displacement, went through multiple international relocations (serial transitioning), and recognised a need for an examination that would ultimately work as a valid university entrance requirement (Fox 1985). The IB has, from its inception, been intrinsically linked to the international school system. Its primary ideological focus was to foster internationality and the appreciation of cultural difference amongst learners.  He is also referred to as the ‘Father of the IB’ (Fox 1985).

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Some of the most notable criticisms of the IB actually mirror those relating to the development of international schools over time. This includes signs of Eurocentrism (Bruce 1987; Gardner-McTaggart 2016); cultural imperialism (Fox 1985; Simandiraki 2006); and the production of various forms of elitism (Hahn, 2003, cited in IBO 2008; Van Oord 2007; Maire 2016). Moreover, it has been argued that while proclaiming itself as ‘international education’, the IB’s historical association with universities located primarily in Europe and North America reinforces critics’ observation of cultural imperialism. The IB’s centrality in the international school system has contributed to the global imaginary of its communities. It shapes what is learnt, how it is learnt, and by whom and therefore, its curricular programmes play a vital role in reconstructing notions of the ‘global’ as Western, Eurocentric and Anglophone. It is therefore important to consider the implications of associated organisations (like the IB) within the international school network that also help shape the global imaginary (see Chap. 5 for more on this).

Reorientation While the IB was originally developed mostly within the international school system, over the past several decades, it has become immensely popular within public state schools and has extended further into local private schools around the world. In the 1990s, the IB shifted even more from “a program for international schools” to “an international program for schools” (Hagoort 1994, p. 11). This led to a significant expansion of the programme globally, which increased competition for international schools. This made the central differentiation between an international school and its competitor private or state schools in the area its historical commitment to facilitating international mobility and its expatriate community. The number of ‘expats’ attending international schools became a popular topic within international school literature at that time, which follows market trends within the sector. Moreover, with an increasing number of international schools around the world that began attracting more host country nationals, discussions emerged about what constitutes

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an ‘ideal’ or ‘legitimate’ international education. International schools could place themselves as uniquely positioned to facilitate both an international education and a diverse ‘inter-national ’ learning community comprising expatriates, representing a wide range of nationalities. For example, Allen, a former Head of School for a number of international schools, published an article in 2000, succinctly stating the tensions experienced within the sector: “Having a school with a large proportion of host-country nationals raises specific problems: expatriates, for instance, could view the school as ‘local’ rather than ‘international’. There are also educational implications. Large proportions of any cultural or linguistic group affect the operation of the school. A school that proclaims itself to be ‘British’ and has a significant proportion of UK citizens may be fine. But for an ‘international’ school to have a bias towards one group is problematic” (2000, p. 129-130).

This excerpt highlights three market-related points: the first, is related to the international school’s concern about attracting expatriates by providing a visible expatriate community. This is one of the international school system’s main attractions—not only are they educational providers, but they are important expatriate hubs that build communities of internationally-­mobile families. The second, is the emphasis on regulating the number of host nationals, in order to be able to proclaim itself institutionally as an ‘international’ school. The third relates to the idea that an international curriculum is best delivered to a student body that is considered to be ‘international’. All three sentiments help position international schools in a unique place within the educational market, and continue to circulate the international school sector (and its imaginary) today.

The Boundaries of International Schools The construction of any form of social imaginary involves a degree of boundary drawing. And this differentiation is linked to the growth and development of international schools. The sector may have been easier to

1 Introduction 

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define in its early decades, however, its growth is now far more complex and fluid with the development of all sorts of schools proclaiming to be ‘international’, to some extent. The race to ‘legitimise’ the industry is a reaction to the gradual weakening and blurring of its boundaries. Very often now, we are labelling international schools according to the extent to which ‘local’ host country nationals are in attendance, to the degree to which the ‘local’ ‘infiltrates’ the curriculum, and to the extent to which the international school can maintain its outward-facing brand of ‘internationality’ while catering simultaneously to host nationals. Terms to differentiate schools based on the extent to which they include a visible expat community have also been created in the past decade to help give meaning to a sector that is becoming more and more ambiguous. For example, labels like ‘Type A’, ‘traditional’9 and ‘ideal’10 international schools have been used to describe a school that can include both an international orientation and an inter-national student body (and thus regulated number of host nationals). Alternatively labels like ‘Type C’11 or ‘non-traditional12’ speak of schools that facilitate some form of ‘international’ orientation, geared primarily for host nationals and an “aspirational middle class” (Hayden and Thompson 2013, p. 7). Some schools, in response to the changing market, have shifted from ‘Type A’ to ‘Type C’ school over time, by admitting an increased number of host nationals into the community, and responding to various other market demands. One major variable in these definitions relates to the perception of a school’s ‘legitimacy’ based on its relationship with the ‘local’. The manner in which these ‘types’ are described highlights a general discourse on the perception of international schools: that ‘type A’ is better than ‘type C’. The hierarchies that are produced based on these models are worth examining, as they speak also to the trend of marginalising host nationals within this system—an aspect I will discuss later in Chap. 3.

 Hayden and Thompson (2013).  Bunnell et al. (2016). 11  Hayden and Thompson (2013) also speak of a ‘Type B‘ international school, which have been established on a purely ideological basis (2013, p. 5). There are not many in number of this type. The example Hayden and Thompson provide is the group of United World Colleges (2013, p. 6). 12  Hayden and Thompson (2013). 9

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Moreover, Bunnell (2019) recently published a book highlighting this growing dynamic and argues that we are currently experiencing a new shift, which he aptly calls the ‘New Era’ of international school development. To tackle the arduous task of attempting to define such a vast field that currently exists of self-proclaimed ‘international schools’, he proposes a new term ‘Globalised English Medium of Instruction Schools’ (GEMIS) (2019, p.  2). These discussions demonstrate that the field is becoming increasingly less identifiable, definable and clear-cut; but still, the idea of the global is very much present in its defining features.

Boundaries and Terminology The global orientation of international school communities is also created through the use of terminology used to define its members. One such term is ‘Third Culture Kid’, mentioned previously, which international schools were able to capitalise on in the late 1990s when David Pollock and Ruth Van Reken wrote, The Third Culture Kid Experience: Growing up Among Worlds (1999). It has now become a very popular book, with many editions following it. It made a significant impact at that time in international school communities. The book documents the characteristics of an internationally-mobile childhood, and presents testimonies to highlight both the positive and negative aspects of ‘growing up among worlds’. In fact, I remember my Dad buying the book for me when we repatriated from Germany back to the United States in 2002. I found the book incredibly useful in understanding my repatriation experience—integrating back into the American public school system with different forms of cultural knowledge from my peers. I used this term for many years to identify myself and understand my sense of belonging. Pollock and Van Reken’s book has since been published in several editions, and is readily available on the shelves of international schools’ libraries around the world. The term ‘TCK’ is still very widely used within international schools and in scholarship, to identify (and differentiate) particular groups of students. The label is regularly used to imagine the social world as globally-­oriented and has enormous promotional benefits. It illuminates

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21

the international school system’s engagement with a diverse, expat community which comprises internationally-mobile, ‘Third Culture Kids’. The Useems’ research (in particular, Ruth H. Useem’s work published in the 1970s) and Pollock and Van Reken’s book in the 1990s set the basis for how the term, ‘Third Culture Kid’ is used currently within popular culture. The definition of ‘Third Culture Kid’ according to Pollock and Van Reken is: “a person who has spent a significant part of his or her developmental years outside the parents’ culture. The TCK frequently builds relationships to all of the cultures, while not having full ownership in any. Although elements from each culture may be assimilated into the TCK’s life experience, the sense of belonging is in relationship to others of similar background” (2009, p. 13).

While this definition could be inclusive to all forms of youth migration, the label is rarely used in reference to ‘migrant’ children. The TCK label instead typically refers to privileged ‘expat’ children—often the ones seen attending international schools. This connection to the international school system comes from its original conception and context introduced by the Useems in the 1960s, and more recently, due to the system’s capitalisation of the term to describe its expatriate youth. Several years ago, I had an exchange at a conference on Third Culture Kids with what I perceived at the time as a ‘fellow’ TCKs. As we casually chatted about our internationally-mobile backgrounds one of them said to me, ‘Wait, your Dad is German and you grew up in Germany? You’re not a TCK!…’ Rightfully so, according to Pollock and Van Reken’s (2009) definition, a TCK technically needs to grow up outside the parents’ culture. Having a German father suddenly cut me out of the TCK group with which I had identified for so many years. The exchange raised a series of questions in my mind not only about who I was and where I belonged, but also how we use labels and how these can include and exclude people. I realised that these labels operate as symbols to which we orientate ourselves, despite the fact that we may have drastically different understandings of what they actually mean. The term ‘TCK’ is therefore

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part of a social imaginary, as it is about how we perceive the world, ourselves and others. Generally speaking, the concept of the ‘third culture’ itself suggests an ‘uprootedness’ or a ‘non-place’, which emphasises the notion that this particular demographic of TCKs is specifically not part of a locally-­ oriented social imaginary. Other terms have since followed to describe privileged youth migration including, ‘Global Nomad’, ‘Cultural Chameleon’, and ‘Trans-cultural Kid’ (also ‘TCK’). Like the label, Third Culture Kid, these additional terms are not tied to a sense of locality. It is precisely the opposite: we think of children who are ‘global’. And significantly, these terms have a very attractive tone: they fit the global orientation of international schools; help create the market niche of providing an international educational experience; and ultimately, make excellent promotional material—appealing to both expatriates and host nationals. Over the past two decades, many scholars have also picked up on the limitations of the term, including their age demographic and lack of inclusivity. First, as the label pertains solely to children it is a terminal concept. To address the issue, scholars have come up with terms like ‘Adult Third Culture Kid’ (ATCK) and ‘Third Culture Individual’ (Lyttle et al. 2011). These terms afford more insight into the world of adults who grew up internationally-mobile (and perhaps continue to do so). Secondly, in order to include groups that are traditionally and conventionally not included in the conceptualisation of the ‘Third Culture Kid’, Pollock and Van Reken (2009) coined the term, ‘Cross-Cultural Kid’, with a number of sub-categories: ‘children of bi/multinational parents’; ‘children of immigrants’; ‘children of refugees’; ‘children of minorities’; ‘international adoptees’; and ‘domestic TCKs’ (Van Reken and Bethel 2005). Similarly, the term ‘Third Culture Indigenous Kid’ (TCIK) has been proposed by Emenike and Plowright (2017) to address the ideological and social pressures experienced by host nationals attending international schools (in this case, in the context of Nigeria)13. These attempts are promising, as they encourage a more diverse understanding of  Over the past two decades, even more terminology has appeared within scholarship to address other groups of internationally-mobile youths, including ‘Fourth Culture Kid’; ‘Missionary Kid’; ‘Adult Missionary Kid’; ‘Embassy Kid’; ‘Corporate/Business Kid’; and ‘Parents of Third Culture Kids’ (PTCK). 13

1 Introduction 

23

internationally-mobile youth and/or host nationals navigating significantly different cultural spaces. However, the terms still need to be defined by using labels we already understand (e.g. TCK). This makes it almost counter-productive, as it is a labelling, grouping practice in itself that encourages ‘othering’. Some international schools have tried to adopt the term ‘CCK’, however the efforts have hardly made an impact beyond administrative circles, as the term ‘TCK’ is still extremely popular amongst international school community members. This popularity of the term contributes to the reconstruction and maintenance of a global imaginary, by positioning privileged migrants in a category of their own.

Migrant vs. Expat Conversely, scholarship on ‘migrant’ children in local educational contexts focuses on how these children adjust to and experience life as members of a new, local society—a very similar approach to that witnessed in the aforementioned local school in Austria. The assumption of an integration agenda is often implicit, surrounding common themes of immersion, difference and inequality: these include maintaining heritage culture(s) and language(s) while attending local schools (e.g. Bayram and Wright 2018); social injustices experienced in the host society (e.g. Güner 2019); the role of ethnicity and race for ‘immigrant’ children in schools (e.g. Moffitt et al. 2019); educational disadvantage and attainment (e.g. McElvany et  al. 2018); mental health and schooling (e.g. Mood et  al. 2017); delinquency or anti-social behaviour (e.g. Uysal et al. 2020); and national citizenship and identity (Schneider 2018)14. Such research approaches exhibit a ‘local imaginary’—positioning ‘migrant’ youth within a locally-oriented framework to best understand situational and place-based realities. Of course, in terms of inciting a practical impact, such research and their ensuing approaches are necessary—they may influence local and national policy-makers, funding bodies, NGOs, and so on. At the same time, it implicitly facilitates a discourse  The examples provided here are taken primarily from German contexts as a means to maintain contextual consistency with this study, however it is important to note that similar findings appear in many other contexts as well (e.g. Mexican first-generation youths in the United States). 14

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that runs thick through popular imagination that is segregating different migrant patterns and groups of people based on privilege (Knörr and Nunes 2005; Croucher 2012). The thematic patterns within research on particular groups of ‘migrant’ youths in schools are often based on a negatively-­charged circumstance. This particular focus attracts terminology and phraseology that differs significantly to the international school focus, in which circumstances are centred on more positively framed assumptions including opportunities and exceptionality. When looking at the language used in research on ‘migrant’ groups, we encounter words like ‘immigrant’, ‘economic migrant’ and ‘unskilled worker’, as opposed to terms like ‘expatriate’ or “foreigners who stay permanently” (Croucher 2012, p.  4), more commonly found in international school literature. These terms paint a picture in the mind of the reader—they have become terms which are loaded with all sorts of implicit meanings—many times negative (Knörr and Nunes 2005). These words are not only perpetuated within scholarship, but most importantly, are used within popular culture—in print and electronic media, films and TV and social media, without being scrutinised. For example, during the European ‘migrant crisis’ of 2015-2019, or the Central American ‘migrant caravans’ of 2017-2018, these terms were splashed all over the media15. Over the years, these words have become a part of local imaginaries, and are largely associated with individuals migrating from the Global South to the Global North. They have developed into implicitly referencing specific (non-white) ethnic groups and particular socioeconomic strata. They also play a role in the illustration of post-colonial realities.  The term, ‘expatriate’ is a label that I have repeatedly found controversial and thus academically challenging during the writing of this book. The term conjures a wide range of assumptions related to the respective individual’s socio-economic status, class, nationality, ethnicity or race, and ‘type’ of mobility he or she is considered to be undergoing. I say ‘assumptions’ for the reason that often these terms are used without further consideration of their connotations—particularly within expat communities (Gatti 2009). Conversely, the term ‘migrant’ is equally socially and politically charged. It is often used in reference to individuals seeking permanent residency within the host national through the primary objective of attaining employment due to economic hardship. Comparatively, the perception of the ‘expatriate’ as a highly paid, temporary resident employed by a company of the sending country, carries often more positive connotations than the former (Gatti 2009). Conscious of these issues, I have nonetheless maintained the label, ‘expatriate’ in this book, following how my participants described themselves and others in the ISG community. 15

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25

A local imaginary therefore focuses on how the social world is constructed around a contextualised ‘local’ symbol—organising oneself and others based on locally-relevant competencies, qualities and skills. In terms of migration, the local imaginary might be exhibited by a points-based system, as expressed in Austria, in the U.K., or in Australia, where migrants are ranked on their suitability for employment and permanent residency in their host country. This can include an ability to demonstrate knowledge of the local language; having the skills considered valuable in the host nation; bringing talents that are in demand locally; and having attained an educational level that is deemed valuable. Therefore I argue that local imaginaries focus largely on place-based permanency, as opposed to global imaginaries, which focus on both physical and abstract notions of mobility. The different ways in which terms are used, and labels are applied to particular types of communities helps us understand how international schools have emerged as a separate field of educational research. It has created its own set of terminology and assumptions specific to international schooling and their community members. I see this largely connected to how international schools have developed over time as exclusively disassociated from locally-oriented systems of education, and therefore much of their identity is situated in a ‘global’ space that is constructed as specifically not local. This foundation has contributed to the reproduction of the global imaginary of international school communities. Indeed, the international school system has been evolving and reimagining itself over the past century to suit a set of particular conditions that meet the time’s ideologies and market demands16. And in so doing, we see a series of contradictions. On the one hand, we have an education system which strives for a ‘global’ orientation, which often includes notions of inclusivity, equity, fairness, global tolerance, internationality, understanding of the human condition, and universality. On the other hand, this is an education system that establishes boundaries of who and what ‘belongs’, and does not belong, within its ‘global’ orientation, its network, 16

 For more on ideology and market-driven incentives, see Matthews (1989).

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and its community. The manner in which these defining factors is framed can be linked to the global imaginary of international school communities.

International School of Germany (ISG) The data for this book comes from ethnographic fieldwork conducted at an international school located in Germany between 2012 and 201517. The school at that time fell within the parameters of a ‘Type A’, ‘traditional’ international school, as explained previously. It was an English-­medium, globally-oriented school, that provided an international curriculum and catered primarily to expatriate families. The intake of German nationals was annually capped at 30%. It was accredited by the Council of International Schools (CIS); the New England Association of Schools and Colleges (NEASC), was a member of the Association of German International Schools (AGIS), and was an authorised International Baccalaureate (IB) World School. I have chosen the name ‘International School of Germany’ (ISG) to keep the school anonymous18 amongst a vast body of international schools in the country. As Keßler et al. (2015) rightfully point out, it is very challenging to figure out exactly how many international schools actually exist in all of Germany, as the term ‘international school’ is not one that is regulated or legally protected in the country. Therefore, a range of schools may classify themselves as ‘international’ according to a set of self-differentiating criteria. Still, in Germany the number of private schools with an international dimension is growing (Keßler and Schippling 2019). There are currently over 80 schools in Germany that offer the IB (IBO 2020), of which roughly 53 are private schools (Keßler and Schippling 2019), and 22 are members of AGIS (AGIS 2020). To be eligible for AGIS membership, a school must:  I will use the past-tense to discuss all aspects of ISG, to situate my research within that particular time and space in which my fieldwork was conducted. 18  Schwindt (2003) uses this same acronym, ‘ISG’, also for reasons of anonymity. The two studies are not related, and were conducted roughly a decade apart from each other. 17

1 Introduction 

27

“run as [an]  independent, non-profit, private institutio[n] and must provide an international education in the English language, that is recognized in Germany and accepted worldwide [and] be committed to continuous improvement and quality assurance through evaluation, external program authorization and international accreditation” (AGIS 2020).

All AGIS member schools seem to fit within the ‘Type A’ category, suggesting the make-up of the school has an influence on the memberships it can acquire. The popularity of international schools in Germany follows the general trend in the sector’s rapid growth over the past decade. An increasing number of affluent German families are selecting international schools for their children as they believe it can prepare them for an internationally-­ mobile life relevant to participation in the global market. The IB became officially recognised as a ‘school leaving certificate’ as an equivalent to the national Abitur in 1986 (DAAD 2020). An IB diploma is currently recognised by universities throughout the country, under certain conditions19. The recognition of the IB has been an additional pull factor, as it provides an alternative avenue towards upward mobility and educational achievement, particularly in a notoriously rigorous public education system, as seen in Germany. ISG had approximately 1200 students and displayed very common ‘international school’ features. It was divided into three schools on its campus: an elementary school (Kindergarten through fourth grade20), a middle school (fifth through eighth grade21) and a high school (ninth through twelfth grade22); each school had its own building; and each offered its own model of the IB curriculum. The school had numerous additional facilities including a state of the art gym complex, several football fields, outdoor tennis courts, an all-play sports tarmac, multiple  These conditions include a demonstration of German language proficiency. Currently there is also a mathematics requirement that would require an applicant with an IB to take an entry exam (IBO 2019). One of my student participants at ISG told me this was one of the main reasons why she was not going to apply to a university in Germany. 20  Approximately ages 5/6 through 9/10. 21  Approximately ages 10/11 through 13/14. 22  Approximately ages 14/15 through 17/18. 19

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playgrounds for younger students, arts auditoriums including a newly renovated performing arts centre, and a modern track and field complex. These elaborate sports and arts facilities offered by international schools like ISG are utilised to host tournaments, festivals, concerts and exhibitions across the network of accredited international schools throughout Europe (and beyond). The school facilities were not contracted out for local hire, and thus were utilised solely for purposes of the wider international school community and its networks. ISG was connected to a number of international schools across Europe through active participation in a number of associations, including: International Schools Sports Tournament (ISST); Sports Council of International Schools (SCIS), International Schools Theatre Association (ISTA), and Model United Nations. Through such connections, it maintained strong international ties which were regularly promoted in the literature produced for marketing and community-building purposes. The Parent Teacher Organisation (PTO) at ISG allowed families (particularly expatriates) to utilise the school for socialisation purposes. The school required parents to become members of the PTO and charged a small annual fee at the beginning of each academic year to fund its activities. Even though every family was a member, participation was entirely optional. In fact, I discovered that the organisation was not only more popular with expatriates, but most of its active members and leaders were expatriates as well. The PTO hosted a number of community events, socialisation activities (particularly for mothers), and fund-raising opportunities for the school. Its official purpose was to connect parents, staff and students of the school community. This organisation proved very helpful to me to find participants, and to gain insight into the lives of adult community members. I conducted ethnographic fieldwork periodically for three years. While based in the U.K., I returned to Germany every couple months for more observations at the school. Over the course of this time, I explored all facets of community life. This included observations in both formal and informal settings. I observed the ‘official’ channels of communication (e.g. I monitored the school website, newsletters, informational leaflets, etc.), and more formalised spaces within the school: I conducted classroom participant observations; attended faculty and PTO meetings; and

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29

observed extra-curricular activities that occurred after school. Formal spaces also included school-sponsored events: festivals, art exhibitions, concerts, performances and sports competitions. Importantly, I also looked into the informal spaces of the school: I did participant observations throughout the day in the cafeteria; in various lounges (including a bean bag area that was popular with high school students); and wandered the corridors during breaks when students were hanging out by their lockers. Informal spaces also included adult recreation; speaking with parents who were watching their kids participate in sport from the bleachers; and social activities and events outside of school. I even went on a school sports competition trip to Austria. My aim was to do participant observations across all aspects of community life. To supplement my observations and casual conversations across the community, I also conducted semi-structured interviews with parents, teachers, staff, school leaders and students. In addition to this, I ran focus groups with high school students over the age of 16. I found my participants starting with those in leadership positions across the three schools (including programme leaders), the PTO and the Board of Directors. From there, I was referred to others around the community. The more people that I met, the easier it was to find individuals willing to share their stories with me in a formal interview. Originally, I had wanted to investigate the role of the ‘local’ in international school community life. This idea was informed mostly through my own experiences transitioning in and out of the international school system in what is largely considered to be an ‘unconventional’ way, as explained in the preface to this book. It is relatively uncommon for ‘expat’ kids to go through an ‘integration’ agenda in the host nation’s public school system as I did, only to later transition into an international school in the same geographical location, after acquiring the language skills and building a social network locally. The exposure to both ‘worlds’—as an outsider—highlighted the international school community’s level of isolation from the host society. I became very interested in looking at experiences of the ‘local’ and isolationism for my PhD. In fact, this was the project idea that I had proposed to the international school when I first contacted them. While they were supportive, I later regretted leading

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with this, as the school administration and staff often went on the defensive when discussing the topic: “Are you essentially asking if we are a bubble community?” “So you’re going to research how much we DON’T engage with the local?” And “Just so you know, we aren’t trying to be a German school”.

The comments were indicative of the community ‘pressure points’: not only they partly validates my original hypothesis, but also showed this was still a sensitive issue—nearly 15 years after I attended the school as a student. While I made a conscious effort to avoid voicing an opinion on the theme, many members of the community jumped to the assumption that I was there to highlight what was perceived as an obvious isolationism or disconnect from the immediate surroundings. It is important to note that this is a reaction that I have also experienced at other international schools I have visited over the years. These reactions signalled a crucial moment for me, as it highlighted an undercurrent that was not typically visible in the public face the community presented. It was an area of vulnerability, which I later discovered was an important component in the maintenance of the global imaginary (see Chap. 3). International schools are notorious for their tumultuous relationship with their host societies, as they offer an alternative route of education that does not align with the national system of education and curricula, and by extension, may not adhere to notions of national citizenry expressed locally. This includes the contentious topic of ‘integration’— one that international school communities, tend to acknowledge as an area ‘worth developing’, however in practice, it is quite challenging to address. As one school leader at ISG told me in the beginning of my fieldwork: “People have distinct expectations of what our school should be. I mean, we try to promote what we try to do, which is what we are. This is what we are. We try to accommodate certain expectations the best we can. But this is our programme, and it’s the way we do things. We aren’t a German school”.

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The identity of the school relied specifically on not being what is available locally—creating a process of excluding ‘Germanness’. The stance is a challenging ideologically and in terms of branding. The identity politics of international schools has created a well-known stigma within and outside the international school community. By pointing out the ‘obvious’ pressure point straight away I may have made the school a bit uncomfortable in the beginning. After a few months into my ethnographic fieldwork, I began realising that I was not looking at the ‘full picture’. I had naively approached my research with too much focus on the theme of the ‘local’. I had not entirely realised that it was only part of a much wider issue, which gradually began showing its face as I built up my hours spent with the community. Through participant observations, interviews, focus groups and engaging in community life over the course of my research, I discovered that actually, the role of the ‘global’ was glaringly obvious and extremely significant to a comprehensive understanding of the ‘local’. And so became an investigation into the notion of the ‘global’ as a strong, institutionalised social imaginary, not only present within this particular institution, but as one that traverses across the entire network of international schools and their affiliates—reproducing and cultivating discourses and practices that benefit a growing transnational ‘global’ elite.

My Own Positioning My positioning as both an ‘insider’ and ‘outsider’ deserves some attention. I learnt over my experience at ISG that the lines between insider and outsider positioning are complex and very fluid. This experience resonates with Dwyer and Buckle’s (2009) observation: “The notion of the space between challenges the dichotomy of insider versus outsider status. To present these concepts in a dualistic manner is overly simplistic. It is restrictive to lock into a notion that emphasizes either/or, or one or the other, you are in or you are out. Rather, a dialectical approach allows the preservation of the complexity of similarities and differences” (2009, p. 60).

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To view my positioning as situated in the ‘space between’ allowed for a more dynamic understanding of my role as a former student and community member (insider), and my role as a researcher (outsider) at the same time. This notion was particularly useful in understanding the tail end of my fieldwork, where my familiarity with the community and its members had reached the point where I was beginning to be asked to perform community roles. For example, I was asked to work a concessionary stand at a track and field meet hosted by ISG, and made responsible for the handling of money; to participate in classroom learning activities with students; to attend evening social events with mothers; and help out during after school sport practices. During that time I felt as though community members had accepted me as an alumna of the school, as a ‘fellow expat’ and part of the community, because of my then prolonged research activities on campus. I noticed that the boundaries became increasingly blurred, as I became more familiar with the school and its members. Nonetheless, I still received comments like, ‘Are you going to write that down?’ or ‘Be kind in your reporting!’ (in a joking way), which created an instantaneous barrier, and for that particular moment, highlighted my role as an outsider. These comments could sometimes be described as ‘banter’, however at other times the tone was more serious. Since I attended ISG in the late 1990s, the school had grown tremendously. Its community was much larger and many of the facilities on campus had either been renovated or added since that time. Moreover, only a select few individuals had remained in employment since my time—most of whom, I had never engaged with as a student. For this reason, the feeling of historical change was strong for me personally. This allowed me to critically assess the data I collected, and remain relatively emotionally detached from the institution and its members. Nonetheless, I tried to document my experiences and feelings as an insider, ‘returning’ to school. I found this to be a useful tool to distance myself from sentiments that were evoked through interviews, conversations, events or observations that may have triggered an emotional response worth investigating. One particular phenomenon with which I actively struggled was loyalty. Over time, I had gained the trust of many people in the ISG

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community who had been open to share their thoughts and feelings with me, which I in turn, analysed and documented. To treat these thoughts and ideas as ‘data’ was something with which I, admitted, struggled. This feeling is undoubtedly part of every ethnographer’s journey—coming to terms with notions of ‘portrayal and betrayal’, as Back (2009) calls it. Moreover, the dual role of insider and outsider occasionally caused reflexive doubts (Dwyer and Buckle 2009). For example, I noticed that my engagement with the student focus groups was ‘easy’. I had been their age as a student at ISG and felt that I could easily relate to them. Prior to the interviews, the homeroom teacher introduced me as a former student of the school, and even pulled out some of my own school work from the school files to show the class. From the beginning, I was presented first as a former student, then as a researcher. This ultimately impacted my interviews. The responses I received from students were often candid and unfiltered, which produced very honest responses which otherwise would have been difficult to obtain. My role as a former ISG student significantly facilitated my access to (and across) the school community. International schools are notorious for being difficult to access as research sites—particularly for ethnographic work (Risch 2009). However, my status as a former pupil afforded me privileged access to the school as a research site, and also indicated that I was seen as a life-long member of the community. My U.S. nationality and American accent also played a role in accessing particular groups at the school— including the PTO.  Most of its members in leadership positions were American. I was able to easily connect with, and build trust with several groups of American and British mothers who were actively involved in school life. However, I also acknowledge that my drifting towards these particular groups was largely based on my own language skills, gender, and experience as a former American expat child in Germany. Therefore, my position as someone who not only attended the school, but also enjoyed being a part of the community as a student led to a sense of trust, even despite the touchy topics I was aiming to research. It is very important to note that this project has always been about critically bringing to light the perhaps less obvious, unwritten issues within international school communities, as a way to enhance and optimise the experiences for international school members in the future.

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The Structure of This Book This book illustrates how the global imaginary came to life at ISG. While every international school around the world takes on its own unique characteristics, this book aims to address some of the overarching, wider themes that result from the ‘global orientation’ international schools assume. It is therefore a case study which illuminates the inclusive and exclusive practices that are visible within the wider international school community and network. It is not my intention to claim that all international schools are exactly like ISG, but rather, that some of the features that come out of this research can also be seen and experienced at other international schools around the world. This book is structured to explore the global imaginary of international school communities by drawing on ethnographic data collected at ISG. The subsequent Chap. 2 explores how the ‘global’ is imagined and constructed in practice at ISG. It argues that international schools contextualise and define what it means to be ‘global’ for their communities to suit their position within the market. The investment in the global imaginary benefits both the institution and its members. Chapter 3 explores how the global imaginary relies on the construction of boundaries which help strengthen the understanding of what is considered to be ‘global’ and what is not. It looks specifically at the strategy of polarisation: the ‘global’ is regularly juxtaposed against its ‘antithetical’ ‘local’. It argues that this strategy is market-driven, as international schools rely on their offering of a non-local curriculum and learning environment. Significantly, it explores how these boundaries can impact the community’s mobility within the host country. Chapter 4 examines how a culture of group-making according to nationalities develops within international schools like ISG. It demonstrates how significant nationalities become within school life, particularly within internationalisation efforts which inadvertently reproduce social hierarchies by favouring particular nationalities over others. Cultural capital associated with ‘being global’ is linked to specific cultural backgrounds from particular countries within international school

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community culture. The school community operates with significant power-­related tensions based on what it means to be ‘global’. Chapter 5 looks at how the global imaginary is systemically reproduced through the wider international school networks. These include external stakeholders in the system including accreditation and recruitment agencies, educational programmes, private companies, educational institutions, and consultancies that facilitate the development and cultivation of ‘global citizenship’ and international mobility between international schools. It argues that the interconnectivity of the international school system helps reproduce and importantly, legitimise the global imaginary of international school communities. Chapter 6 explores the transition experiences of both internationally-­ mobile and host country national families. This includes moving into the international school system and getting involved in the community; the ways in which the global imaginary becomes constructed through these experiences; and the impact of this imaginary on exiting the system, repatriation and relocation. Chapter 7 summarises the primary arguments of this book by focusing on three key recommendations for the international school sector. It concludes with a discussion on the wider implications of the book’s key arguments, including a commentary on the notion of the ‘global’ in educational contexts today. With this book, I hope to demonstrate how powerful a ‘global’ orientation can be, when cultivated successfully. The way in which we imagine our world can significantly impact our physical, social and cognitive mobility, and one of the greatest examples of this is taking place in international school communities around the world.

References Adriano, R. (2018). The Privilege and Responsibility of Being Part of the Global Generation. Retrieved July 2020, from https://www.hult.edu/blog/ privilege-­of-­the-­global-­generation/. AGIS. (2020). Association of German International Schools. Retrieved June 2020, from www.agis-­schools.org.

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Allen, K. (2000). The International School and Its Community: Think Globally, Interact Locally. In M.  Hayden, J.  Thompson, & G.  Walker (Eds.), International Schools and International Education: Improving Teaching, Management and Quality (pp. 124–142). London: Kogan Page. Appadurai, A. (1996). Modernity at Large. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Aneesh, A. (2015). Neutral Accent: How Language, Labor, and Life Become Global. Durham: Duke University Press. Back, L. (2009). Portrayal and Betrayal: Bourdieu, Photography and Sociological Life. The Sociological Review, 57(3), 471–490. Baker, C., & Wright, W.  E. (2017). Foundations of Bilingual Education and Bilingualism (6th ed.). Bristol: Multilingual Matters. Bayram, F., & Wright, C. (2018). Turkish Heritage Language Acquisition and Maintenance in Germany. In P. P. Trifonas & T. Aravossitas (Eds.), Handbook of Research and Practice in Heritage Language Education (pp.  481–502). Cham: Springer. British Council. (2017). Learn English in the UK: Accredited English Language Centres. British Council. Retrieved June 2020, from http://englishagenda. britishcouncil.org/sites/default/files/attachments/final_h097_02_study_uk_ teens_accredited_schools_directory_update_2017_final_web.pdf. Bruce, M.  G. (1987). High School Graduation, International Style. The Phi Delta Kappan, 69(1), 79–81. Bunnell, T. (2019). International Schooling and Education in the ‘New Era’: Emerging Issues. London: Emerald Points. Bunnell, T., Fertig, M., & James, C. (2016). What Is International About International Schools? An Institutional Legitimacy Perspective. Oxford Review of Education, 42(4), 408–423. Cabrera, A., & Unruh, G. (2012). Being Global: How to Think, Act and Lead in a Transformed World. Boston: Harvard Business Review Press. Calhoun, C. (2008). Cosmopolitanism and Nationalism. Nations and Nationalism, 14(3), 427–448. Cohen, A. (1985). The Symbolic Construction of Community. London: Routledge. Cole, D. C., Davison, C., Hanson, L., Jackson, S. F., Page, A., Lencucha, R., & Kakuma, R. (2011). Being Global in Public Health Practice and Research: Complementary Competencies Are Needed. Canadian Journal of Public Health, 102(5), 394–397. Croucher, S. (2012). Privileged Mobility in an Age of Globality. Societies, 2(1), 1–13.

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DAAD. (2020). Recognition of the IB-Diploma in Germany. Retrieved July 2020, from https://www.daad.de/en/study-­and-­research-­in-­germany/plan-­ your-­studies/recognition-­ib-­diploma/. Dervin, F. (2012). Cultural Identity, Representation and Othering. In J. Jackson (Ed.), The Routledge Handbook of Language and Intercultural Communication (pp. 181–194). London: Routledge. Dickens, C. (1864). International Education. All The Year Round: A Weekly Journal, XII(281), 281–308. Dwyer, S. C., & Buckle, J. L. (2009). The Space Between: On Being an Insider-­ Outsider in Qualitative Research. International Journal of Qualitative Methods, 8(1), 54–63. ElBaradei, M. (2003). Global Citizenship: A Privilege and a Responsibility. Retrieved July 2020, from https://inis.iaea.org/collection/ NCLCollectionStore/_Public/34/047/34047610.pdf. Emenike, N. W., & Plowright, D. (2017). Third Culture Indigenous Kids: Neo-­ colonialism and Student Identities in Nigerian International Schools. Journal of Research in International Education, 16(1), 3–17. Fitzsimons, S. (2019). Students’ (Inter)National Identities within International Schools: A Qualitative Study. Journal of Research in International Education, 18(3), 274–291. Fox, E. (1985). International Schools and the International Baccalaureate. Harvard Educational Review, 55(1), 53–69. Gardner-McTaggart, A. (2016). International Elite, or Global Citizens? Equity, Distinction and Power: The International Baccalaureate and the Rise of the South. Globalisation, Societies and Education, 14(1), 1–29. Gatti, E. (2009). Defining the Expat: The Case of High-skilled Migrants in Brussels. Brussels Studies, 28(31), 1–5. Güner, P. B. (2019). How the German Education System Might Better Support Young People of Migrant Origin. European Journal of Education Studies, 6(4), 53–68. Hagoort, T. (1994). A message from the President. IB World, 6(1), 11. Hayden, M., & Thompson, J. (2008). International Schools: Growth and Influence. Paris: United Nations Education, Scientific and Cultural Organization. Hayden, M., & Thompson, J. (2013). International Schools: Antecedents, Current Issues and Metaphors for the Future. In R. Pearce (Ed.), International Education and Schools: Moving Beyond the First 40 Years (pp. 3–24). London: Bloomsbury Academic.

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IBO. (2008). A Review of Research Relating to the IB Diploma Programme. Retrieved June 2020, from https://www.ibo.org/globalassets/publications/ib-­ research/dpresearchreview-­1.pdf. IBO. (2019). FAQ. Retrieved July 2020, from https://www.ibo.org/contentasse ts/1b11a2a3337345228cf611e04f5b4758/faq-­german-­recognition-­en.pdf. IBO. (2020). Germany. Retrieved July 2020, from https://www.ibo.org/about-­ the-­ib/the-­ib-­by-­country/g/germany/. Igarashi, H., & Saito, H. (2014). Cosmopolitanism as Cultural Capital: Exploring the Intersection of Globalization, Education and Stratification. Cultural Sociology, 8(3), 222–239. Jonietz, P. (2012). Introduction. In P. Jonietz & D. Harris (Eds.), World Yearbook of Education 1991: International Schools and International Education (pp. 3–5). New York: Kogan Page. Kamola, I. (2014). US Universities and the Production of the Global Imaginary. The British Journal of Politics and International Relations, 16(1), 515–533. Keßler, C., Krüger, H., Schippling, A., & Otto, A. (2015). Envisioning World Citizens? Self-presentations of an International School in Germany and Related Orientations of Its Pupils. Journal of Research in International Education, 14(2), 114–126. Keßler, C., & Schippling, A. (2019). “Sie lehren uns wirklich Bürger in der Welt zu werden”: Bildungsverläufe und Internationalitätsentwürfe junger Erwachsener einer IB World School. In H.  Krüger, K.  Hüfner, C.  Keßler, S. Kreuz, P. Leinhos, & D. Winter (Eds.), Exklusive Biludungskarrieren von Jugendlichen und ihre Peers am Übergang in Hochschule und Beruf: Ergebnisse einer qualitativen Längsschnittstudie (pp. 141–158). Wiesbaden: Springer. Knörr, J., & Nunes, A. (2005). Introduction. In J. Knörr (Ed.), Childhood and Migration: From Experience to Agency (pp. 9–21). Bielefeld: Transcript. Leach, R.  J. (1969). International Schools and Their Role in the Field of International Education. Oxford: Pergamon. Le Neve Foster, P., Markham, C. R., Harvey, J., & Ellis, G. (1863). Proposed International Schools. The Journal of the Society of Arts, 11(540), 321–340. Lippincott, K. (2002). Power and Politics: The Use of the Globe in Renaissance Portraiture. Globe Studies, 49/50, 121–138. Lyttle, A.  D., Barker, G.  G., & Cornwell, T.  L. (2011). Adept Through Adaptation: Third Culture Individuals’ Interpersonal Sensitivity. International Journal of Intercultural Relations, 35(5), 686–694. Maire, Q. T. (2016). “Creating a Better World”: The International Baccalaureate and the Reproduction of Social Inequality in Australia. PhD Thesis. University of Adelaide.

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Maseru Prep. (2020). History of Maseru Preparatory School. Retrieved July 2020, from http://www.maseruprep.co.ls/history.html. Matthews, M. (1989). The Scale of International Education. International Schools Journal, 17(1), 7–17. McElvany, N., Ferdinand, H.  D., Gebauer, M.  M., Bos, W., Huelmann, B., Köller, O., & Schöber, C. (2018). Attainment-aspiration Gap in Students with a Migration Background: The Role of Self-efficacy. Learning and Individual Differences, 65, 159–166. Moffitt, U., Juang, L. P., & Syed, M. (2019). “We Don’t Do That in Germany!” A Critical Race Theory Examination of Turkish Heritage Young Adults’ School Experiences. Ethnicities, 19(5), 830–857. Mood, C., Jonsson, M.  O., & Låftman, S.  B. (2017). The Mental Health Advantage of Immigrant Background Youth: The Role of Family Factors. Journal of Marriage and Family, 79, 419–436. Pollock, D., & Van Reken, R. (1999). The Third Culture Kid Experience: Growing Up Among Worlds. Yarmouth: Intercultural Press. Pollock, D. C., & Van Reken, R. E. (2009). Third Culture Kids: Growing Up Among Worlds (Rev. Ed.). Boston and London: Nicholas Brealey Publishing. Robertson, R. (1995). Glocalization: Time-Space and Homogeneity-­ Heterogeneity. In M.  Featherstone, Lash & R.  Robertson (Ed.), Global Minorities (pp. 25–44). London: Sage. Risch, R. (2009). On the Move: Transition Programs in International Schools. PhD Dissertation. Leigh University. Rofe, M. W. (2003). “I Want To Be Global”: Theorizing the Gentrifying Class as an Emergent Elite Global Community. Urban Studies, 40(12), 2511–2526. Ronsheim, S. B. (1967). A Study of the Development of International Intercultural Schools in Western Europe from 1918-1966. New York: U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare: Office of Education, NYU. Ronsheim, S. B. (1970). Are International Schools Really International? Kappa Delta Pi Record, 7(2), 43–46. Schneider, J. (2018). “Ausländer” (Foreigners), Migrants or New Germans? Identity-Building Processes and School Socialization Among Adolescents from Immigrant Backgrounds in Germany. In C.R.  Cooper & R.  Seginer (eds.) Navigating Pathways in Multicultural Nations: Identities, Future Orientation, Schooling, and Careers. New Directions for Child and Adolescent Development, 160, 59–73. Schwindt, E. (2003). The Development of a Model for International Education with Special Reference to the Role of Host Country Nationals. Journal of Research in International Education, 10(1), 71–86.

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Simandiraki, A. (2006). International Education and Cultural Heritage: Alliance or Antagonism? Journal of Research in International Education, 5(1), 35–56. Sylvester, R. (2002). Mapping International Education: A Historical Survey 1893-1944. Journal of Research in International Education, 1(1), 90–125. Tanu, D. (2015). Toward an Interdisciplinary Analysis of the Diversity of “Third Culture Kids”. In S. Benjamin & F. Dervin (Eds.), Migration, Diversity and Education: Beyond Third Culture Kids (pp.  13–35). Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Tanu, D. (2018). Growing Up in Transit: The Politics of Belonging in an International School. New York: Berghahn. Taylor, C. (2002). Modern Social Imaginaries. Public Culture, 14(1), 91–124. Taylor, C. (2004). Modern Social Imaginaries. Durham & London: Duke University Press. Useem, J., & Useem, R. H. (1967). The Interfaces of a Binational Third Culture: A Study of the American Community in India. Journal of Social Issues, XXIII(1), 130–143. Useem, R.  H. (1973). Third Cultural Factors in Educational Change. In C. S. Brembeck & W. H. Hill (Eds.), Cultural Challenges to Education: The Influence of Cultural Factors in School Learning (pp.  121–138). Lexington (MA): Lexington Books. Useem, R.  H., & Baker Cottrell, A. (1996). Adult Third Culture Kids. In C. D. Smith (Ed.) Strangers at Home: Essays on the Effects of Living Overseas and Coming “home” to a Strange Land. Aletheia. 22–35. Useem, R. H., & Downie, R. D. (1976). Third-culture Kids. Today’s Education, 65(3), 103–105. Uysal, B., Stemmler, M., & Weis, M. (2020). Anti-social Behaviour and Violent Delinquency Among Boys with a Migrant Background: A German Panel Study. International Journal of Developmental Science, 13(3-4), 97–108. Van Oord, L. (2007). To Westernize the Nations? An Analysis of the International Baccalaureate’s Philosophy of Education. Cambridge Journal of Education, 37(3), 375–390. Van Reken, R., & Bethel, P. (2005). Third Culture Kids: Prototypes for Understanding Other Crosscultural Kids. Intercultural Management Quarterly, 6(4), 3–9.

2 Constructing the Global Imaginary

My first experience back onto the International School of Germany (ISG) campus after so many years was for an initial meeting that I had set up with the Head of School. The meeting was to take place in his office, which was located on the top floor of a large administrative building at the entrance of the ISG campus. Before the meeting, I had decided to walk around the school—mainly out of curiosity and to reacquaint myself with my old stomping grounds. Sticking to the main walkway, I first passed one of the classroom buildings. Constructed with large glass windows, I could see easily into all of the classrooms—brightly decorated with posters hanging from the ceilings and on the walls. Across the pathway some small gardens of flowers and herbs caught my eye—one had been decorated with some student-produced colourful laminated paper symbols of the globe with signs alluding to the care and protection of the environment. The little globes not only worked to decorate the garden, but signalled the educational mission behind the activity. Caring about the environment was a globally-relevant task. From then on, the globe symbol seemed to pop up everywhere—in hallways, in foyers and in the cafeteria. Even on my way out of the administration building later on that day, I walked past a member of the cleaning crew who was wearing a © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 H. A. Meyer, The Global Imaginary of International School Communities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-72744-4_2

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black uniform with the English word, ‘GLOBAL’ written across the back in bright green lettering. Such visual displays marked the ISG campus with a ‘global’ orientation—matching its mission of providing an education for ‘globally-minded’ students. In this chapter, I explore how the notion of the ‘global’ was imagined at ISG and brought to life. Significantly, I argue that the ‘global’, as a concept, is an imaginary—a framework—that carries little meaning without concrete contextualisation. I will therefore illustrate how ISG was able to define, interpret and articulate its mission of ‘global-­mindedness’, as relevant to its position in the market and the requirements of its community. I argue that the global imaginary of international school communities is very closely connected to its market, and constructed, in part, through strategies which not only establish a successful ‘global’ community symbol, but also benefit the international school brand.

Global-mindedness at ISG School missions offer a core ideological backdrop to the institution and its community, and shape behaviours within them. Missions define what is considered to be important and valuable, drive action, motivate, and signal what will be rewarded and what resources will look like within that environment (Deal and Peterson 2016). Therefore, if implemented successfully, they can greatly shape the school’s culture. ISG’s mission of developing and fostering ‘global-mindedness’ very clearly articulated an aspiration that was relevant for all of its community members. It not only defined what members could invest in, but also worked as a recognisable and visible community symbol around the school. The ‘global’ was omnipresent at ISG, which often, even passively, reminded the community of its global orientation. ‘Global-mindedness’ set the foundation for the international school’s global imaginary. But what does ‘global-mindedness’ actually mean? The term is very popular in educational contexts around the world—from international schools to public national systems of education, and in universities. There are an array of definitions circulating the educational market—each varying slightly to suit the particular context to which the term is being applied. Sometimes definitions are quite abstract, vague and open-ended,

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particularly when provided without a context which helps to define them further. This is important, as the term’s flexibility, like the symbol of ‘the global’, allows people and organisations to place a contextualised meaning onto the term, as relevant to their own circumstances. ‘Global mindedness’ or ‘world-mindedness’, as a concept, relies to a certain extent on the subject’s social imagination to construct further meaning.1 In 1957, Sampson and Smith described ‘world-mindedness’ as “a value orientation, or frame of reference, apart from knowledge about, or interest in, international relations [A highly world minded individual] favors a world-view of the problems of humanity, whose primary reference group is mankind, rather than American, English, Chinese” (p.  99). Many years later, Hett (1993, p.  1) defined ‘global-mindedness’ as “a world view in which one sees oneself as connected to the world community and feels responsibility for its members”.2 Both definitions refer to the notion of a global orientation—a way of ‘seeing’ and ‘being in’ the world. There are still different interpretations in the way the term ‘global-­ mindedness’ is used in the context of international education. de Oliveira Andreotti et  al. (2015), define global-mindedness as a way in which “individuals think about and engage with otherness and difference in contexts characterized by plurality, complexity, uncertainty, contingency and inequality” (p. 254). Chainut et al. (2019) see the characteristics of ‘global-mindedness’ as: creating citizens of the world who possess awareness about the rights, freedoms, and equality of humanity, and who are without discrimination against different genders, classes, or ethnicities, in order to revolutionize consciousness and achieve awareness; departing from the ego toward consideration of others in order to achieve balance and peace in global society. (p. 26)  These are also terms that are situated within the wider context of global citizenship (Carter Anand and Das 2019). UNESCO (2016) defines global citizenship as “the need to foster the knowledge, skills, values, attitudes and behaviours that allow individuals to take informed decisions and assume active roles locally, nationally and globally”. Like the concept of ‘global-mindedness’, these values, skills and attitudes are relatively vague without a specific context to which they can be applied. 2  Many scholars have also developed systems to measure, quantify or rate ‘global-mindedness’ or ‘world-mindedness’ including Sampson and Smith (1957); Lentz (1950); Der-Karabetian (1992); and Hett (1993). 1

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This definition is associated with social justice, while Carano (2010) sees ‘global-mindedness’ as related to a series of experiences and traits including family perceptions, minority status, exposure to diversity and a curious disposition (p. 108). Moreover, El-Badawy (2017) has observed how ‘global-mindedness’ is linked to international living. And Cui (2013) sees ‘global-mindedness’ as related to proficiency in a ‘non-native language and culture’, and the extent to which an individual has engaged with others from diverse backgrounds. ‘Global-mindedness’ therefore is a concept that carries an array of different meanings. Importantly: even when these aforementioned definitions are broken down into defining features, they must be imagined as globally-relevant. Otherwise, they are arguably just qualities, skills and attributes that can be easily extracted from the ‘global’ context or framework.

Creating a Globally-minded Community Given the ambiguous nature of the word, the ISG website dedicated an entire page to define what ‘global-mindedness’ meant to the school and its community. Here, ‘global-mindedness’ was outlined according to the following four somewhat vague values: ‘peace’, ‘principles’, ‘competence’, and ‘participation’. Their definitions alluded to an inclusive education through the attainment of a globally-oriented skillset including appreciation of difference; awareness of and commitment to social justice; and participation within a diverse environment. The development of this skillset at ISG would establish a learning environment built on notions of inclusivity, equality, tolerance and universality. As one school leader put it in writing, “at [ISG] we value educating the whole person”—referring to a comprehensive education as a means through which global-­ mindedness could be achieved. The school website further described such an educational environment as one in which students were “encouraged to develop to the full of their intellectual, social, moral, physical, creative, emotional and individual potential”. The primary mode through which the mission of ‘global-mindedness’ was articulated was through literature produced by the school. It was a

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concept that consistently appeared in official school documentation, both online and in print, for internal and external distribution. The website and online magazine were significant resources for the investigation, as they served as a major communication tool between the institution and its current and future potential members. I was also able to collect an enormous amount of paper-based materials which alluded to the school’s global mission, including curricular handbooks, pamphlets, textbooks and flyers. The regular and consistent application of the school mission demonstrated the meticulous nature in which the ‘global’ community symbol was reproduced. It clearly illustrated what the school was ‘selling’ to its community and prospective clientele. The incorporation of a reference to the ‘global’ in the school mission also had a significant range of symbolic value: the presence of the globe symbol around campus highlighted sentiments of boundlessness, mobility, flexibility, and togetherness. It was also an easily-recognisable image that could be used across the school to quickly reinforce its mission. When I arrived at ISG, the school had recently undergone an International Baccalaureate (IB) evaluation which assessed its management and maintenance of its programmes. The results found that the school’s primary ‘key strength’ was attained by its implementation of its mission of global-mindedness. In the same year, a Council of International Schools (CIS) and New England Association of Schools and Colleges (NEASC) accreditation process reported similar findings, which were then confidently summarised and published on the ISG website. It was clear, that ISG placed a significant amount of effort in relaying its ideological direction across all aspects of school and community life. Most importantly, these efforts were validated and legitimised by external stakeholders, including the IB and the accreditation bodies—highlighting also the global reach of such practices within its networks.

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“I’m an inquirer”: Global-Mindedness and the IB As an IB World School,3 ISG was also obligated to adhere to the mission of the IB, which was represented through the ‘IB Learner Profile’—a series of skills and responsibilities that were deemed transferrable beyond the classroom. Learners on an IB programme will aim to be ‘Inquirers’, ‘Knowledgeable’, ‘Thinkers’, ‘Communicators’, ‘Principled’, ‘Open-­ minded’, ‘Caring’, ‘Risk-takers’, ‘Balanced’ and ‘Reflective’ (IBO 2020b). These categories were consistently promoted across the school—and significantly, its wider community—as desirable and aspirational human attributes which represented a ‘global’ skill set. The framing and representation of the curriculum as a pathway towards ‘global-mindedness’ reinforced the added value of the global symbol: an IB education at ISG would make you ‘global’. The IB Learner Profile therefore plays an important role in schools that are IB-authorised, and are subsequently referenced and sign-posted in learning spaces and activities. ISG worked to pair the IB Learner Profile with its mission of global-mindedness in a manner that effectively allowed staff and students to concretely map and connect together the ISG and IB missions. This strategy worked to solidify and actively engage the community with both aims and objectives under the overarching umbrella notion of ‘global-mindedness’.

Teaching and Learning Strategies The teaching and learning strategy of emphasising the globally-oriented competencies at ISG manifest itself differently across the Primary Years Programme (PYP), Middle Years Programme (MYP) and Diploma Programme (DP).4 ISG had established a very good reputation locally for its provision of the IB programmes, and this was one of the main reasons why parents chose ISG over other competing international and private  Once a school becomes IB authorised, it gains the status as an ‘IB World School’ (IBO 2020a).  The PYP is designed for children ages 3–11; the MYP for ages 12–16; and the DP for ages 16–19 (IBO 2020a). 3 4

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schools in the area. Several parents of ISG pupils stressed this point during our interviews: The feedback I had gotten was that [ISG] was better in terms of academic reputation.

And It was the international curriculum. It is very open. The difference between [other schools in the area] is its PYP programme that is very broad-based.

And I appreciate the IB structure. The kids do research and develop ideas and talk about it. We think this is a much more useful way of learning than the rote [style].5

The school diverged from the disciplinary focus typical of many local schools, giving way to a more transdisciplinary and interdisciplinary learning style instead—pushing the inquiry-based learning agenda that the IB notoriously offers. This approach further helped encourage a ‘global’, ‘open’ and holistic perspective to learning right from the beginning of a child’s education, with the idea that it would be habitual by the time the student graduated as a ‘globally-minded’, life-long learner. The continuous exposure to a problem-based, experiential, and well-rounded style of learning also led to the development of a heightened ability of critical thinking. Therefore, becoming ‘globally-minded’ at ISG involved a three-step transition process of ‘learning how to learn’, from the PYP, through the MYP, and to the DP. The PYP is specifically designed to cultivate transdisciplinary learning, which transcends disciplinary boundaries (subject areas) to create authentic learning experiences. According to the IB Office (IBO), transdisciplinary learning places programme of inquiry, key concepts, transdisciplinary skills, attitudes and action at the centre of  Rote learning involves memorisation and repetition techniques.

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learning that is influenced by blurred spaces of disciplinary knowledge, concepts and skills (IBO 2010). ISG’s ‘global-mindedness’ mission was materialised through transdisciplinary approaches which focused on the school as a learning community in which a collaborative approach to issues-based learning was adopted at the primary school level. Sofía, an ISG mother of a primary school child, worded it like this: It is a ‘global’ curriculum. Here at [ISG] we have the PYP—the primary years programme—which is very comprehensive. So let’s say if they had a theme- let’s say nature for instance- it would probably go exploring nature in different ways. So I think it’s very exciting because it gives the students the opportunity to go and explore and then come and write their findings. It’s very research-based, and also I think it allows the students to think more and express themselves at a very young age.

I followed this up with a teacher at ISG, Natasha, who explained that Sofía was likely referring to the PYP’s ‘Units of Inquiry’—one of which was nature-related. She told me that PYP pupils are typically given the opportunity to explore the theme across a series of loosely-constructed subject areas. She gave the following examples: pupils might go on a fieldtrip into the forest to look at the relationship between bees and plants. They would then follow this up in a maths-related context, by examining nature-related patterns (e.g. patterns produced by bees). To develop the area of the arts, the students might draw or sketch these patterns, and they might keep a ‘forest journal’, where they can write learning reflections, or even upload pictures of their learning journey (if the journal is online). Natasha also gave the example of how pupils might go geocaching6 or do parkour in the forest for physical education. The list goes on and on. The transdisciplinarity of the ‘nature’ theme therefore comes out across all facets of learning during that particular Unit of Inquiry. ISG’s ability to provide a transdisciplinary education for primary school-aged children which was globally-oriented was one of its biggest strengths—particularly in attracting host country nationals attempting  Geocaching is a treasure hunting activity, whereby individuals use a mobile phone app with GPS to locate waterproof containers of hidden ‘treasures’. 6

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to circumvent the arguably rigid structures of the local education system. Another one of the central objectives of the PYP is to create and cultivate a ‘learning community’, which can set the foundation for future learning as students transitioned into the MYP, as I observed also at ISG. The MYP transitions students into the world of interdisciplinarity. Interdisciplinary learning focuses on creating ideas through the integration and interaction of two or more disciplines or subject groups. The emphasis however still remains at setting the foundation of problem-­ based learning—which can be perceived as a ‘global’, transferrable skillset. The students are finally introduced to the DP, which branches into specific disciplines. This process prepares students for higher education within national systems, which are largely disciplinary focused. Secondary school students at ISG would enter the DP with a heightened ability of critical thinking and problem-based learning capabilities that maximised their potential within disciplinary-focused learning environments. This form of education is highly valued—particularly in universities located in North America and the U.K. (Resnik 2016). The provision of the school’s IB programmes was aimed to engage the entire community: it involved a collaborative effort between faculty, staff and parents. The IB as a whole aims to allow for reflection on “the unique aspects of that school’s community, from its geography to the needs and experience of its constituents” (IBO 2010, p. 9), and therefore purposely empowers faculty to create authentic learning experiences that are highly contextualised. The mission of ‘global-mindedness’ very clearly guided these considerations on contextualisation at ISG—all across each of the three programmes. The mission statement played an important role in the development of a consistent interpretation and application of the school’s global orientation. Natasha told me: I really like the transdisciplinary themes. They’re brought in throughout the entire school. And it’s consistent, so students know what it’s all about.

This process aligns well with the intention of the IB which states that a whole-school approach should be taken when developing and refining a complete programme of inquiry. The proposed units of inquiry at each year

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level need to be articulated from one year to another. This will ensure a robust programme of inquiry that provides students with experiences that are coherent and connected throughout their time in school. (IBO 2010, p. 9)

This resulted in a much broader understanding of the ‘global’ as being associated with the transitional process between ISG’s curricular programmes. The coupling between the school’s curricular programmes and mission of global-mindedness was displayed on the first page of the school’s curricular handbooks. Because of this, teachers demonstrated a high level of awareness in relation to the programme ideals, and were regularly encouraged to incorporate them in their classroom activities and visual aids—by their programme leaders and through the resources they worked with. I could see this awareness very clearly in classrooms, which were typically fashioned in very similar manners—with common symbols and images decorating the walls and signposting the ‘global’ as a guiding feature, even used passively. Most elementary school classrooms, for example, were equipped with a large floor mat depicting a colourful map of the world. Many classes which I observed here used the mat to congregate for show-and-tell purposes, or for story-telling activities. The globe imagery served as a ubiquitous decorative feature, and in the case of the floor mat, became a centrepiece for school classrooms and at times, an educational tool. I have noticed in subsequent visits to other international schools in Germany that these environments are very similar—demonstrating a consistency to the ‘global’ orientation that is striking. Similar passive, yet omnipresent globe symbolism appeared throughout the middle school and high school on the ISG campus. This imagery was often linked to pressing contemporary global issues—highlighting ISG’s interests in service-related projects located throughout the world. In these buildings, global-mindedness and global citizenship were also linked to community engagement. For example, the abundance of educational posters advertising participation in community service projects located around the world reinforced the notion that the ISG community was globally-oriented, globally-relevant, and globally-connected in a way that students could feasibly imagine themselves actually reaching

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communities located in remote regions of the world. Posters included calls to participate in various volunteering programmes run by UNICEF, Doctors without Borders and sustainability projects on issues stemming largely from outside Germany. Hallway displays and school magazines also highlighted how ISG community members engaged in service projects all around the world. This contributes to establishing a global imaginary that allows community members to ‘see’ themselves as globally-mobile and globally active. Amidst the globe symbols, nearly all classrooms at ISG had a large wall space dedicated for 10 colourful, A4-sized laminated placards displaying the IB Learner Profile. It was a classroom ‘staple’. Teachers were encouraged to refer to them in a number of different circumstances and to make students aware of the curricular philosophies of the school. When I was observing classes, the teachers would refer to the IB Learner Profile placards hanging on the walls, by asking students how their particular activities could relate to them. It was compelling that the students were generally able to formulate answers which related the IB Learner Profile to their particular lessons. The ways in which students of all levels reflected on their work, as related to the IB Learner Profile, took me aback on several separate occasions. The language they used highlighted the extent to which the students were trained to engage with the IB Learner Profile. Even very young children were incorporating expressions like ‘critical thinker’ and ‘critically assess’ into their reflective activities, both written and oral. Generally speaking, students of nearly all levels had successfully learned to express their personal qualities and achievements in these IB idioms. The school produced a 40–50 paged, colourful issue of the school magazine each season, which illustrated the school’s curricular, extra-­curricular, and community activities and events. Magazines were published online for community members and the general public. The magazine was a useful tool to gauge how the school presented and documented itself, and where the language of pedagogy merged with the language of self-promotion and branding. Each issue repeatedly included a range of student reflections with input from elementary school-aged children to final year high school students. Reflections could be related to classroom activities, co-curricular endeavours (e.g. sport, arts, and clubs) and extra-credit

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experiences, such as charity work. The student reflections were selected by teachers, programme leaders and organisers, coaches, counsellors, chaperones and tutors to be published in the magazine. Those chosen for publication were typically the ones that demonstrated a high awareness of the IB Learner Profile—indicating the propensity to reward students who used the related ‘buzz’ words, or demonstrated an awareness of the school’s values and mission. The readership of the magazine was presented with evidence that the school had successfully instilled its principles and ideals in students. What was particularly striking to me was that such language was also used when unsolicited. One of the first times I experienced this at ISG was when I was observing 10 and 11 year-old students engaged in a media related project. The students had been asked to work in their small groups in a large auditorium to brain-storm ideas on how they were going to film a commercial about a recycling project on which they had been working. The students had dispersed themselves across the auditorium and were planning their commercials in the corners. During the hour, I went around and asked each group to talk about their projects with me. Each group proudly and excitedly told me about their ideas. On one occasion, I asked a student a question related to how they had come up with their data, and he responded, “I’m an inquirer”. ISG’s mission and values were abundant and continually reinforced— even seemingly ‘everyday’ activities were presented as ‘globally’ meaningful. An example of this was a series of science projects being annually labelled as ‘One World’, where students were asked to link a particular science problem to wider social, ethical, economic and political issues. The variables fit with the IB curricular objectives and connected to the globe imagery of the school. From technological devices, such as iPads, which were described to enhance ‘global-mindedness’ in an issue of the school magazine, to the drama department labelling its productions as globally-relevant: ‘All the World’s a Stage’, ‘One Sun, One World’, notions of ‘global-mindedness’ were ever-present. Even when the school inaugurated its state-of-the-art track and field complex, it was described in an issue of the school magazine as a significant achievement in the fulfilment of its mission of ‘global-mindedness’. This description is an example of how the school associated facets of everyday school life with the global

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rhetoric. These transcended into extra-curricular programmes, in which specific activities were named in reference to the school’s global orientation. Students for example could join the ‘World Choir’, ‘Earth Choir’, ‘International Honor Choir’, and ‘International Honor Band’. The extra-­ curricular programmes were promoted online as fulfilling the school mission of ‘global-mindedness’ through the provision of a ‘uniquely suitable path for intercultural communication’. Parents were also directly engaged with the notion that the IB Learner Profile guided the community towards global-mindedness. Evidence of this was present in promotional literature which incentivised parents to participate in a range of volunteer roles, charities, and service-oriented activities run by and through the school. For example, each year, the Athletics Department fervently searched for parent volunteers to ‘house’ a visiting student athlete or student performing artist from another international school. The drive to find volunteers to ‘house’ was not only often relayed to me in casual conversations, but also observable in literature produced by the school. The role of the ‘housing’ family was to assume responsibility to care for travelling students who arrived at ISG to either compete in sport or participate in an arts-related event. The housing family was obligated to provide meals, transportation, and accommodation for the visiting students. In one published plea for volunteers, ‘housing’ was described as an opportunity to develop the following four characteristics expressed in the IB Learner Profile: Open-minded, Communicators, Principled and Caring. In this instance, the Profile was used to motivate parents into volunteering. Materials sent to alumni of the school (including myself ) also included explicitly globally-oriented initiatives based on the school’s IB Learner Profile values. In one instance, I had been invited (among others on the alumni mailing list) to contribute a written story about ISG, towards a school-wide publication. The invitation was also publicised on the school website to entice active members of the community to contribute as well. It set specific guidelines, requiring contributors to ensure the school mission of ‘global-mindedness’ guided the story. Following the invitation, the IB Learner Profile was written in full for contributors’ reference. The invitation for former members to contribute reflects how significant the school values were in forging a sense of community that transcends

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generations. It also shows the extent to which management perceived the ideological direction as a chief component in the public documentation of the school and its community of members (former, current and prospective). Also, the IB Learner Profile that was sent to alumni did not include an explanation—it was assumed that alumni would understand, appreciate, and be able to apply it meaningfully to their writing.

Conceptualising ‘Global-mindedness’ Given that ‘global-mindedness’ was fundamental to the school’s orientation, I wondered how community members actually conceptualised and negotiated such terms. In one of my focus groups with secondary school students we had the following interaction: Heather: So what does ‘globally-minded’ mean to you? (Long pause. Students giggle.) Michaela: Like the IB Learner Profile for example? Heather: Yeah, or just the idea of being ‘globally-minded’, does that mean anything to you? Sylvia: It’s kind of engrained into our brains (all laugh) it’s kind of everywhere [here] but I can’t describe it! (laughs)

Despite ISG’s endeavours to promote the term throughout its campus and literature—to the point that the students found it as being ‘engrained’—they had difficulty in explaining what ‘global-mindedness’ actually meant to them. It seemed difficult for them to put into their own words, without the opportunity to use the ‘IB Learner Profile’ as a reference point. Following this focus group session, I asked their teacher whether references to ‘global-mindedness’ or even ‘globality’ were ever made by students in general, and he stated that in his experience of working at the school, students did not appear to ‘make much sense’ of the ‘global’ concepts. Indeed, in my own exchanges with the students, they did not incorporate the term into their vocabulary to define themselves, others or anything else for that matter; and it did not come up within interviews or conversations, unless specifically solicited.

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I had similar experiences with parents, who believed in ‘global-­ mindedness’ as a quality which could be attained through an ISG education in general, yet did not use the term to identify themselves, their children, or other community members. When solicited, some parents found ‘global-mindedness’ to be based on notions of tolerance, however teachers and administrators appeared to be the only members within the community who used the term actively to describe the community, even if the attempts made to define them were inconsistent or slightly vague. Michael, an ISG teacher, put it as follows: …I think it’s interesting watching [the students] because it’s like they’re all in their own little worlds, but we’re all in the same classroom, but then we’re all part of the same world and they’re in their own little worlds. They can still work together. It’s really globally-minded.

Teachers and administrators who were professionally invested in the school actively engaged with the notion of ‘global-mindedness’ in various, sometimes even conflicting, capacities. The ISG curricular handbooks encouraged teachers to adopt and recontextualise the curriculum and their individual lesson plans to fit these objectives. Clientele, on the other hand, appeared to find the term less useful, likely because it does not carry a sense of quantifiable or demonstrable cultural currency. In other words, it may prove challenging to perform or practice ‘global-­ mindedness’ or ‘globality’ in any obvious manner, other than speaking of it. The concepts associated with ‘global-mindedness’ at ISG, like ‘participation’, ‘competence’ (ISG values), or ‘balanced’ and ‘knowledgeable’ (IB Learner Profile) are also qualities that could technically be achieved in any school or community, when removed from the ‘global’ imaginary.

‘Global-mindedness’ and the Role of ‘Internationality’ ‘Inter-nationality’, or the conglomeration of nationalities, was an important expression of ISG’s global orientation. After all, many of the most common definitions of ‘global-mindedness’ and ‘global citizenship’ circulating the field of international education refer to intercultural awareness

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and tolerance; engagement with diversity; and learning from others with different experiences. All of these can be loosely associated with engaging with others from different cultural backgrounds (e.g. nationalities). There are also market-related benefits in incorporating ‘internationality’ within the school’s global framework. As an international school, ISG was expected to engage with this concept in order to articulate its institutional identity—to the school community, the host country, and to prospective clientele. In Germany alone, there were 71 IB World Schools at the time of this study. This meant that ISG’s competitors also operated with the same IB Learner Profile. However, ISG was well-positioned to set itself apart from many of local competitors through the promise of an ‘international’ community. Desmond Cole-Baker, co-founder of the IB diploma and once Head of Geneva International School reflected on this position, stating as early as 1989: “in a true international school [of diverse cultures] international education is a question of environment; in a national school, it is a frame of mind” (quoted in Hill 2007, p. 26). This perception is very visible at many international schools today, in which their communities of ‘expat’ nationalities are promoted as an essential ingredient for a presumed ‘ideal’ (Leach 1969) or ‘legitimate’ (Bunnell et al. 2016) international education. ISG seemed to take on a similar position. It was successful in setting itself apart first by reframing its IB programmes towards the notion of globality, while simultaneously pushing forward its brand as an international school. Clientele who invest in the international school brand want to clearly see the internationality in which they are investing. This element of commodifying the existing community in light of attracting prospective clients and satisfying existing clientele has become a normalised practice within such international school communities. Therefore, it seems that ‘internationality’ as a concept, is often interpreted as a feature of ‘globality’. At ISG, practices of ‘internationality’ were indeed expressions of a global orientation: a community of different nations coming together, in unity. As seen, ‘global-mindedness’ is relatively challenging to demonstrate in an observable manner, yet ‘internationality’, a subcomponent of this, is arguably much easier to demonstrate and perform. Conveniently, ISG was able to capitalise on both concepts

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to push ISG’s brand: first, as a provider of a ‘global’ education, and second, as an ‘international’ community, which facilitates that global education. Often, the two representations appeared together, which helped mask, to a certain degree, the undertones of exclusivity, marginalisation and exoticisation the representation ‘internationality’ brought (see more on the role of nationalities at ISG in Chap. 4). As a methodological choice I made early on in my fieldwork—I actively attempted to note both the ‘visible’ and ‘invisible’ culture of organisation. The ‘visible’ culture related to how ISG projected itself as an institution to its community and to the outside world. It involved looking into promotional literature, policies, regulations and other ‘official’ documentation of the school’s curricular, extra-curricular and community-wide activity sponsored by the school. The ‘invisible’ culture related to how the global orientation was internalised, ‘translated’, and ultimately discursively practiced within the informal spaces of community. The way in which the ‘global’ was officially signposted and paired with the ‘international’ could be seen on the official homepage of the ISG website over the course of this study. Right in the centre of the homepage, in large, bold lettering, was the school mission of ‘global-mindedness’, followed by bullet-points illustrating the ‘international’ profile of the school: “64 nationalities”, and “1,200 global students”. The number of nationalities not only signalled the cultural composition of the school, but also reinforced the brand as ‘international’. What was at base nothing more than the labelling of a multi-origin school community became marked as one of its most distinctive features. When browsing through the website, amidst references to ‘global-­ mindedness’ was a strong discourse of highlighting the cultural diversity of the school, which was overpoweringly characterised through representations of nationality. Images flooded the website with ISG students dressed up in national dress or draped in national flags parading around the school campus, and sometimes even in spaces outside the school. Most of the covers of the school magazine showed groups of national flags strung in the background of the picture in focus. One issue, for example, showed the graduating class in their regalia, standing on stage bleachers with flags hanging from a line above them. The graduation was

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therefore highlighted for viewers and readers as an international event— an international graduation. National flags are commonly used by international schools to symbolise and showcase the internationality of their communities. On the ISG campus, national flags were in abundance—consistently visible all over the school and its facilities, within its electronic and paper-based literature, during sporting and cultural events, and show-cased in student projects and demonstrations. Even the cafeteria displayed a daily ‘nationality dish’. For example, ‘Austria Day’ in the cafeteria would feature a glass-enclosed Wienerschnitzel—representing the daily special—with a small Austrian flag mounted on a toothpick. The rotation of nationality dishes is just one of many examples of a normalised, banal practice that reinforced the space as culturally diverse and ‘international’. I found the cafeteria a very engaging and informative community space. I hung out there quite a lot whilst doing my fieldwork to observe the space change with the various groups that entered and exited throughout the average day. It was a meeting point—for morning coffee, staff and faculty breaks, lunch for students, and an area for larger events and meetings. Student projects and artwork framed the walls around the entire room—often in particular, featuring references to the cultural composition of the particular class or to the wider school. When not addressing the different nationalities, the artwork nearly always had another ‘global’ dimension. The pieces that were selected for presentation within this community space consistently had the global orientation of the school as a common theme. The cafeteria was a space that symbolised the community—one that was shared and framed as a ‘global’ social centre for national representatives to mingle and engage in intercultural dialogue. Like in many other international schools, the ‘international’ was represented through the featuring of nationalities together—whether it was a series of national flags strung across ceilings in classrooms, or for specific events; or work produced by students themselves that highlighted the collective ‘internationality’ of their particular class. On the one hand, these practices reinforced the ‘global’ mission of the school—the notion of intercultural communication and tolerance as an important collective and community practice. On the other hand, the brand of ‘internationality’ forces a degree of boundary drawing on a number of fronts. In order

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for the community to be deemed as ‘international’, there must be a number of nationalities present. And the school made sure this representation of nationality was visibly performed within the school. Every year ISG had a dedicated day in which the nationalities of the school were celebrated. This was called the ‘Mosaic of Cultures Day’, which included a ‘Parade of Nations’ during which students, staff and parents were encouraged to wear traditional clothing and colours of the country they represented at the school. An array of national flags were carried, worn, and painted on the faces of the community members that participated in the event. In the parade, participants were divided into specific nationality groups and paraded together on campus as one group representing a particular nation. After inquiring whether students were ever faced with a dilemma when having to choose a nationality to represent, one teacher agreed that the parade posed these problems, but reluctantly claimed that students often “had to choose” for this tradition. In other school activities that involved nationalities, students were encouraged to represent more than one nation– particularly in classrooms.7 Such performances are not uncommon for international schools. Tanu (2018) observed a similar parade at her fieldwork site at an international school in Indonesia—labelled ‘United Nations Day’. Recently, I gave a workshop at another international school in Germany, where one member of staff from New Zealand told me they faced a similar dilemma whilst in their previous employment. They had been obliged to march under the Australian flag, because the school did not own any New Zealand flags. Such performances of nationalities have been criticised as “international-mindedness lite” (Skelton 2007, p. 380), where they create an experience constructed as ‘intercultural’ in a superficial fashion. At ISG a photographer annually took pictures of the Mosaic of Cultures Day. The images were later posted along with the mission of the school—connecting the images of students representing national cultures within the ‘global’ universe. These rituals were performed as not only a way to demonstrate and reinforce the ‘internationality’ of the school, but also significantly, to document the performance. This has three primary  An example of more fluid representations of national belonging took place in classroom discussions. For example, in community-building exercises within homerooms across all three schools. 7

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benefits: first, documenting such rituals reinforces the institutional mission for present community members; second, it demonstrates and legitimises the internationality of the school within its host country; and third, it works to promote the school as ‘international’, as the brand suggests. The images and documentation of the day in the school magazine acted to validate and confirm the community. The message conveyed through such demonstrations was that the foundation of the community was based on collaborative efforts in which individual ‘national representatives’ were stakeholders in a much larger initiative. By participating, one was simultaneously adding to the ‘internationality’ of the event and ultimately legitimising it as ‘international’.8 Moreover, Fortier’s argument of performances displaying an “investment in the promise of community” (2006, p. 71) mirrors Baumann’s (1992) observation that communities are strengthened by rituals which express an aspiration for change or assimilation. Both relevantly argue that a strategy of community building is through expressions of a shared aspiration. In the case of ISG, the primary objective or ‘goal’ of the community, as seen, was founded on being ‘globally-minded’, which was expressed through rituals symbolising the internationality of the community as a whole. Such practices of categorising and labelling also took place, though far less often, in relation to other forms of diversity, including religion. ISG’s elementary school, for example, produced a hallway display entitled ‘Religions at [ISG]’, which had been linked to a mathematics-related activity in which kids were learning the concepts of ‘more than’ and ‘less than’. The display included a photo of the children from one particular class lined up behind a religious label. The labels under which the students were required to profess themselves included: “Hindus”, “Muslim”, “Christian”, “Jewish”, “Non-Religious” and “Buddhists”. The display showed, for example, that there were more Christians than Muslims, and more Buddhists than Jewish students. The photo was displayed in the corridor likely to highlight another way of understanding cultural diversity at the school, aside from the typical nationality groupings.

 Such rituals also reiterate the discourse of defining and ‘legitimising’ international schools, as discussed in Chap. 1. 8

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Overall, there seemed to be two competing strands of meaning-­making happening at ISG.  The first, was conceptualising the space as ‘global’ through practices in which a conglomeration of nationalities could be presented together—as a ‘global whole’. ‘Internationality’ from this perspective followed the assumption that nationalities would be conceptualised and projected equally. In fact, this understanding in itself helps to establish the space, in an ‘official’ sense, as one that can be shared by individuals from different cultural backgrounds on equal terms, and thus symbolises the ‘global’. The second perspective I realised was a more ‘unofficial’ take on such practices of globality and internationality—one which established very particular structures of power, imbalances, and exclusivity (see Chaps. 3 and 4).

A ‘Global’ Imagined Community Creating and delivering a strong, globally-oriented school mission on a consistent and regular basis can only go so far in reproducing a global imaginary. Members must feel invested enough to practice its reproduction. They must believe that they are part of a global community and want to evidence it and justify it as a reality. This process establishes what Benedict Anderson (2006) calls an ‘imagined community’. While Anderson (2006) specifically speaks of ‘imagined community’ in relation to nationalism, the concept works to understand how communities imagine themselves as a collective. He (2006) questions in his book, Imagined Communities how members of a nation feel a sense of comradeship and solidarity with people they may have never even met. Similarly, within the international school network, a sense of community is created, drawn together through a shared belief and investment in the notion of a globally oriented community of like-minded individuals. It separated community members, who are considered ‘global’, from the wider public, who are not. It is estimated that the international school community, as a global enterprise, involves over 9000 schools with over 5  million active students and over 450,000 active staff, and that these numbers will double by 2027 (ISC Research 2018). This of course does not include alumni, parents, or former teaching and administrative staff

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that are considered to be members of the global international school community. The network is large and expanding rapidly. Where half a century ago, international schools developed in response to a demand from expatriate families, today, they also attract large numbers of host nationals. The belief in commonality within the community is actually quite astounding, considering that international-mobility does not necessarily constitute the rationale for this belief. Rather, it is the global imaginary that binds the community together. Anderson poignantly argues that “communities are to be distinguished, not by their falsity or genuineness, but by the style in which they are imagined” (2006, p. 6). This means that the focus must be on the process of establishing the community, rather than the objective common features. While each international school might differ objectively from the next, the global imaginary can be sustained across them. Thus drawing on Anderson’s ideas, Billig (1995) argues that it is often the trivial or ‘banal’ practices that have the largest impact on establishing an imagined community. He gives the example of American children saying the ‘Pledge of Allegiance’ every day in school as a form of ‘banal nationalism’—a practice which reinforces the belief in the American imagined community, generates a sense of belonging as an ‘American’, and ultimately awakens feelings of pride in this form of community involvement. I see the process of establishing a sense of membership within the international school system quite similarly: students, parents, teachers and other staff members regularly engage in passive or ‘banal’ practices which work to reinforce the notion of being ‘global’. These practices collectively work to establish routines and habits, and ideally, to create a sense of belonging and pride as a member of this community. Symbols also play a very important role in the process of community building within international schools. The engagement with the global symbol is a passive way of regularly affirming the reality of the community’s central objective: becoming ‘global’ and being ‘global’. Imagined communities are often also perceived as an equal and ‘horizontal’ comradeship, despite sometimes very obvious inequalities and hierarchical structures that establish quite uneven experiences of community—including exploitation (Anderson 2006). International school communities are no different—perceptions and experiences of the ‘global’

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vary drastically, particularly because notions of the ‘global’ can be notoriously western-oriented and thus embedded within uneven and unequal power relations (Tanu 2018). A feature of imagined communities, according to Anderson (2006), is an ability to treat these imbalances as an oversight, in the pursuit of maintaining community and a sense of collective belonging. An ISG staff member told me that she viewed the international school community as “a window into the world”—framing membership as an opportunity to experience the world as represented in a microcosm. This included not only the cultural diversity that essentially creates the international school community, but also the power dynamics that lie within it. This way of phrasing her experience is one of many I came across at ISG over the years. Members provided additional metaphors that reinforced the perception that the community was particularly unique, elite, and globally-oriented, including “it’s like being in the United Nations”. Aside from the international school system’s persistence in establishing their institutions as globally-oriented spaces, the question then becomes: is that actually all that is contributing to the establishment of a strong community? The global orientation of curriculum and institutionally-­ devised practices is arguably only one piece of the puzzle towards the reproduction of a global imaginary, and ultimately an imagined community. International schools are particularly successful in engaging their community members with the ‘global’ symbol specifically because of their unique demographic of individuals who are personally invested in the notion of ‘being global’. These two components essentially create an ideal environment for an imagined community to become sustainable and successful. The international school system attracts a uniquely large number of individuals who perceive themselves as belonging to somewhere, yet nowhere. Internationally-mobile children and their families might identify with a range of different cultures, and yet at the same time, perhaps not feel as though they belong to any of them. It is the ‘typical’ dilemma experienced by expat families. Similarly, and less-often reported, host country nationals attending international schools may identify with the local society in which they were raised, but at the same time feel a significant disconnect from it, as they become a part of the international school

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community (Bailey 2015; Emenike and Plowright 2017; Montgomery 2018). For this reason, international school community members are seen (and perceive themselves) to be particularly malleable—they are used to engaging with the fluidity of their identities, spurring on terms like, ‘cultural chameleon’, Third Culture Kid, and ‘global nomad’ within community (and wider public) discourses. The international school community is of course in a privileged position to engage with themes relating to fluid and flexible senses of belonging in a positive manner—as seen in Chap. 1, these ‘third culture’ identities are regularly celebrated, valued and deemed as interesting and unique in these spaces. International schools invest heavily in facilitating these identities and tackling the issues that stem from them. And, as a benefit, this also forms the basis of their market. Therefore, international schools provide opportunities for their members to engage with a social imaginary and identity that many are already actively seeking to help give meaning to the complexities associated with a culturally diverse upbringing. The global orientation of the international school system can be a very attractive benefit for both internationally-­ mobile families and host country nationals who experience a feeling of ‘uprootedness’. At ISG, members of the community had a space where they could establish a sense of belonging around the symbol of the ‘global’. It also touched on the social and the emotional experiences of its members who were undergoing significant cultural transitions. These transitions included moving countries, as well as entering the international school community. The attractiveness of belonging to a ‘global’ community is that everyone, regardless of nationality or cultural background, can orientate themselves as a ‘global’ individual. Part of the success of the international school system in delivering a solid global imaginary is the fact that its members consist of a demographic that is conventionally already seeking a sense of community, a sense of belonging and even an identity. In addition to this, international schools offer a ‘global’ space in which expatriate community members can feel protected and valued in their migrant status. It offers a space in which the vulnerabilities of residing in a host nation temporarily dissipates and one in which the ‘global’ is consistently valued, justified and legitimised amongst ‘like-minded’

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individuals. The school thus becomes a safe-haven for these individuals: it has been constructed as tolerant, accepting and open-minded space, which places importance on cultural difference, and encourages values and respects a global imaginary. These qualities that are offered by the international school system often differ to the host society, sometimes drastically, in which expatriates may experience vulnerability as foreigners. These vulnerabilities can include safety and security issues, as well as linguistic, cultural, religious, social, economic, and professional barriers, to name a few. International schools validate a global identity that can build confidence and counterbalance these feelings of vulnerability. Cohen (1985) argues that communities are strengthened not only by their symbolic quality amongst their members, but also the strength and visibility of their boundaries. International schools assist in the establishment of boundaries within the host nation, as well as the differentiation between the ‘global’ space that is the school, and the ‘local’ space that is the host society. The boundaries of the community become quite visible in this process, on a physical, social and cognitive level (see Chap. 3 for more on boundaries). The important issue in understanding how and why international school community members invest so heavily in their community membership, is that these schools work as globally-oriented educational institutions, but also significantly, as organisations which directly speak to the personal development of the expat ‘global’ identity. The labels associated with international school communities follow this trend—references to ‘Disneyland’ (Tanu 2016), ‘cocoon’ and ‘bubble’ (Fechter 2007) have been well-documented, and are terms that came up many times during my own fieldwork at ISG. They express a certain sentiment that runs thick within the system: the international school community provides a comfortable retreat away from life as a foreign resident in the host country, and simultaneously establishes membership to an imagined community that facilitates, encourages and legitimises a desired ‘global’ imaginary.

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A Brand Community To a certain extent, we can also view the imagined community of the international school system as a ‘brand community’ (Muniz and O’Guinn 2001), provided that its global imaginary has been created and reproduced through a series of market-driven incentives. First, international schools establish strong missions which highlight the over-arching global orientation as an educational and personal aspirational direction and community symbol. Members invest in the idea of a globally-oriented education, as it is defined and framed by the institution, and quite generally perceive this as a quality that is valued at universities and in the professional world. As Sheila, a mother at ISG, told me: An [ISG] diploma. It is the GOLD. You are ahead of everybody. [My]boys are good academically. [They’ve got a few] more years. Eye on the prize. They’re learning languages. They like what they learn, they say it’s better than their old school [back home]. They already know what universities they want to apply to. They have high goals. They need to play the game in the best way possible. They’re going to do well on the SAT. They’re going to be international kids.

Second, international schools establish themselves as communities comprised of unique, globally-minded individuals who share an interest in international-mobility and can collectively create a culturally-rich community of practice that will facilitate the global orientation the brand promises. The global orientation of international schools is market-driven. While it may be viewed as controversial to conceptualise a network of international schools that is simultaneously so heavily invested in creating better futures for its students and their families, the impact the brand of ‘international school’ has on its communities cannot be underestimated. Therefore, the global imaginary it reproduces is generated, in part, by the market. Muniz and O’Guinn’s (2001) definition of brand community can help explain how the international school system is a branded one:

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A brand community is a specialized, non-geographically bound community, based on a structured set of social relationships among admirers of a brand. It is specialized because at its center is a branded good or service. Like other communities, it is marked by a shared consciousness, rituals and traditions, and a sense of moral responsibility. Each of these qualities is, however, situated within a commercial and mass-mediated ethos, and has its own particular expression. Brand communities are participants in the brand’s larger social construction and play a vital role in the brand’s ultimate legacy. (2001, p. 412)

As has been seen, international school communities form because of the mutual interests of its members in what is promised by the brand. At ISG, it was the overarching symbol of the ‘global’, and the ‘internationality’ that the collective community brought towards a holistic, globally-­ oriented education. At the same time, international school communities are not geographically bound: membership continues long after students and their families have left the institution and, as will be argued in the subsequent chapters, the space of community transcends far beyond the physical location of the school campus. International schools around the world are notorious for sharing strikingly similar features—placing the ‘global’ as a symbol through which their members locate themselves and others. The ‘global imaginary’ is the shared consciousness that is practiced through rituals and traditions, like the ‘Parade of Nations’ that help legitimise the brand, and ultimately, the community’s imaginary. In fact, a school leader at ISG phrased it like this: It’s what you feel. Or the international school spirit. It’s something you feel and taste and touch. But hard to put into words. Let’s say systems, or traditions, or values that come through if you spend any time [in an international school].

Muniz and O’Guinn (2001) further define ‘brand community’ according to three core markers: shared consciousness; rituals and traditions; and a sense of moral responsibility. First, the ‘shared consciousness’ within international schools translates into a shared sense of belonging, and as seen, many international school

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community members are already actively seeking this due to experiences of ‘uprootedness’. It also relates to communal ways of thinking and understanding (Muniz and O’Guinn 2001) and it is  associated with a particular sense of community that members feel towards each other, while innately understanding what the differences are between themselves and those not perceived to be community members. The ‘shared consciousness’ can also relate to communal ways of thinking and understanding (Muniz and O’Guinn 2001). Part of the global imaginary of international schools is shaped through this shared consciousness in pursuing a global orientation. A further component of ‘shared consciousness’ relates to boundary drawing—particularly in relation to community legitimacy: who belongs and who does not belong. In the context of brand communities, Muniz and O’Guinn (2001) argue that legitimacy is typically understood by members as the extent to which individuals appear to appreciate and practice the ‘legitimate’ symbols of the brand. This means that despite the fact that brands can be interpreted and used in a variety of ways, it comes down to understanding what is perceived as the ‘right’ way of doing so by the wider community that will grant legitimacy. At international schools, we have seen that even though the ‘global’ can technically be interpreted and practiced in a variety of ways, the community places particular value on specific practices and specific interpretations of this symbol that ultimately shape hierarchies and power structures based on legitimacy (see Chap. 4 for more on this). Second, rituals and traditions also play an important role in the construction of a brand community (Muniz and O’Guinn 2001). Community practices in the form of rituals, customs and traditions allow the community to be reimagined, reproduced and transmitted—not only within the community itself, but also to those on the outside. The ‘Parade of Nations’ mentioned previously is a good example of this. They provide opportunities for members to see and feel their membership, and ultimately have it validated in a very public manner. Finally, brand communities, like ISG, are created through a mutual sense of moral responsibility. This is a “shared sense of duty to the community as a whole, and to individual members of the community… [it] is what produces collective action and contributes to group cohesion”

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(Muniz and O’Guinn 2001, p. 424). International school communities are guided by their mission statements which, often direct their members towards a globally-oriented aspiration. This not only attracts prospective members and retains existing ones, but also provides guidance towards exercising ‘legitimate’ brand community discourses and practices. Looking at international schools as ‘brand communities’ (as defined by Muniz and O’Guinn) reveals another dimension to the interplay between the social, educational, and institutional priorities found within such contexts. The brand element of community construction at international schools, including ISG, is an essential instrument in the production of a global imaginary, as it helps to understand the motivations and incentives behind some of the community practices.

Some Concluding Remarks International schools help contextualise and define what the ‘global’ means within their communities. As seen, the ‘global’, as a symbol or orientation, can be challenging to put into practice as a concept on its own, as it is just an abstraction—an imaginary. At ISG, the ‘global’ was signposted regularly on campus: in classrooms, in hallways, in school-­ produced literature and in the curriculum. Students, staff and parents understood and practiced their global orientation, guided by the definitions provided by the school. Global-mindedness was framed as the community’s actionable aspirational quality that was defined through the IB Learner Profile qualities, and the school’s values of ‘peace’, ‘principles’, ‘competence’, and ‘participation’. While these terms can arguably apply to any context, it was the global imaginary that made them globally-­ relevant and globally-meaningful within the community. It is important to recognise the links within the educational market, which is also positioned to influence the construction of the global imaginary seen at international schools, by defining what the ‘global’ can mean. Higher Education, particularly in the West, places significant value on the development of critical thinking; interdisciplinary/transdisciplinary research skills; knowledge and awareness of issues surrounding social justice and environmentalism; a particular ethical and moral position that

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concerns itself with the human condition; and intercultural awareness and communication skills. These are just some examples of many—all of which are often framed as ‘global’ within international educational contexts. However, these ‘global’ qualities can also be extracted from the global imaginary, and placed within another social imaginary—perhaps one that is linked to class and elitism within a local context. An elite local private school might offer and provide very similar opportunities to develop these skills. The framework is different, and the skills might be contextualised and defined slightly differently to suit a different demographic. What sets international schools apart is their provision and positive promotion of an intercultural environment comprising many different nationality representatives—their ‘internationality’. It is an important feature of the ‘global’ image that supports the notion of global mobility. ‘Internationality’ therefore is regularly expressed as an important community feature and identity that helps promote the system’s notoriety as a top provider of a globally-relevant education. Moreover, the ‘traditional’ demographic of host nationals and expatriates within the system is important to the brand, but also important in the development of identity—especially for internationally-mobile kids. Some scholars have questioned whether this form of ‘interculturality’ is indeed enhancing a form of intercultural tolerance that is superior to schools which are diverse in other ways aside from a conglomeration of nationalities—such as displaying significant academic, ethnic, racial, religious, financial discrepancies (e.g. El-Badawy 2017; Metli et  al. 2018). These discussions have some important branding implications on the sector. The global imaginary of international schools works to establish a strong institutional and community identity that is recognisable, accredited and ultimately rewarded within higher education contexts—particularly in the West, and within the global professional market. This identity is based on perceived commonalities shared by its members. Therefore, boundaries play an important role in the development and sustainability of the global imaginary of international school communities—they establish what sets an international school education and community apart from their competitors. These boundaries define what is on

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offer, what resources are available, who gets access to it, who is teaching, and importantly, who or what is considered to be ‘global’. The next chapters will explore these boundaries further, and how they come out in international school community life.

References Anderson, B. (2006). Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism (Rev. ed.). London: Verso. Bailey, L. (2015). The Experiences of Host Nationals in International Schools: A Case-Study from Malaysia. Journal of Research in International Education, 14(2), 85–97. Baumann, G. (1992). Ritual Implicates ‘Others’: Rereading Durkheim in a Plural Society. In D. de Coppet (Ed.), Understanding Rituals (pp. 97–116). London: Routledge. Billig, M. (1995). Banal Nationalism. London: Sage. Bunnell, T., Fertig, M., & James, C. (2016). What is International about International Schools? An Institutional Legitimacy Perspective. Oxford Review of Education, 42(4), 408–423. Carano, K. T. (2010). Through the Lens of a Global Educator: Examining Personal Perceptions Regarding the Construction of World-Mindedness. Ph.D. dissertation, University of South Florida. Carter Anand, J., & Das, C. (2019). Global Mindedness in International Social Work Practice. London: Red Globe Press. Chainut, A., Suwanjan, P., Pupat, P., & Pimdee, P. (2019). Needs Assessment for the Global-Mindedness of Vocational Certificate Students under the Office of the Vocational Education Commission. Mediterranean Journal of Social Sciences, 10(2), 25–33. Cohen, A. (1985). The Symbolic Construction of Community. London: Routledge. Cui, Q. (2013). Global-mindedness and Intercultural Competence: A Quantitative Study of Pre-service Teachers. Ph.D. dissertation, Indiana State University. de Oliveira Andreotti, V., Biesta, G., & Ahenakew, C. (2015). Between the Nation and the Globe: Education for Globalmindedness in Finland. Globalisation, Societies and Education, 13(2), 246–259. Deal, T. E., & Peterson, K. D. (2016). Shaping School Culture (3rd ed.). San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

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Der-Karabetian, A. (1992). World-mindedness and the Nuclear Threat: A Multinational Study. Journal of Social Behavior and Personality, 7(1), 293–308. El-Badawy, E. S. E. D. (2017). Educating for Global Citizenship in Egypt’s Private Sector: A Critical Study of Cosmopolitanism among the Egyptian Student Elite. Ph.D. thesis, University of Exeter. Emenike, N. W., & Plowright, D. (2017). Third Culture Indigenous Kids: Neo-­ colonialism and Student Identities in Nigerian International Schools. Journal of Research in International Education, 16(1), 3–17. Fechter, M. (2007). Living in a Bubble: Expatriates’ Transnational Spaces. In V.  Amet (Ed.), Going First Class? New Approaches to Privileged Travel and Movement (pp. 33–52). New York: Berghahn. Fortier, A. M. (2006). Community, Belonging and Intimate Ethnicity. Modern Italy, 11(1), 63–77. Hett, S.  E. (1993). The Development of an Instrument to Measure Global-­ mindedness. Doctoral dissertation, University of San Diego, 1993. Dissertation Abstracts International, 54(10), 3724. Hill, I. (2007). International Education as Developed by the International Baccalaureate Organization. In M. Hayden, J. Levy, & J. Thompson (Eds.), The SAGE Handbook of Research in International Education (pp.  28–44). London: SAGE. IBO. (2010). The Primary Years Programme as a Model for Transdisciplinary Learning. Cardiff: IBO. IBO. (2020a). Programmes. [Online]. Retrieved July 2020, from https://www. ibo.org/programmes/. IBO. (2020b). IB Learner Profile. [Online]. Retrieved June 2020, from https:// www.ibo.org/benefits/learner-­profile/. ISC Research. (2018). Building Your Business Strategically with the World’s International School Market. [Online]. Retrieved June 2020, from https:// www.iscresearch.com/uploaded/images/samples/Video/GESS_Video.mp4. Leach, R. J. (1969). International Schools and their Role in the Field of International Education. Oxford: Pergamon. Lentz, T.  F. (1950). The Attitudes of World Citizenship. Journal of Social Psychology, 32(1), 207–214. Metli, A., Martin, R.  A., & Farber Lane, J. (2018). Forms of Support and Challenges to Developing International-mindedness: A Comparative Case Study within a National and International School in Turkey. Compare: A Journal of Comparative and International Education, 49(6), 983–1001.

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Montgomery, R. (2018). A Phenomenological Narrative of Thai Graduates of International Schools in Thailand. Ph.D. Dissertation, Lamar University. Muniz, A.  M., & O’Guinn, T.  C. (2001). Brand Community. Journal of Consumer Research, 27(4), 412–432. Resnik, J. (2016). Struggling for Recognition: Access to Higher Education through the International Baccalaureate. Critical Studies in Education, 60(3), 340–357. Sampson, D., & Smith, K. P. (1957). A Scale to Measure World-mindedness Attitudes. Journal of Social Psychology, 45(1), 99–106. Skelton, M. (2007). International-Mindedness and the Brain: The Difficulties of ‘Becoming’. In M.  Hayden, J.  Levy, & J.  Thompson (Eds.), The SAGE Handbook of Research in International Education (pp. 379–389). London: Sage. Tanu, D. (2016). Going to School in ‘Disneyland’: Imagining an International School Community in Indonesia. Asian and Pacific Migration Journal, 25(4), 429–450. Tanu, D. (2018). Growing Up in Transit: The Politics of Belonging at an International School. New York & Oxford: Berghahn. UNESCO. (2016). Global Citizenship Education. [Online]. Retrieved September 2016, from http://en.unesco.org/gced/approach.

3 Boundaries and the Exclusion of the ‘Local’

An International School Is Not a ‘Local School’ During my time spent conducting fieldwork at the International School of Germany (ISG), I had a conversation in the school cafeteria with a Swedish mother of two high school students. Her family had recently moved to Germany, after living as expats in Brazil for several years. During this time, her children had attended an English-medium, ‘traditional’ international school in São Paulo. While discussing her family’s experience, she told me that she had not been entirely satisfied with her children’s education at the Brazilian international school because there had been ‘too many Brazilians’. She felt that the abundance of host nationals at the school had ‘diluted’ the promised ‘internationality’ she and her husband were paying for. In great contrast, she found ISG ‘much better’ because there were ‘less Germans’, which she felt made the school more ‘international’. This exchange highlights one of the central discourses found in ­international school communities—and one that helps reproduce the global imaginary within them. The understanding of the ‘international’ and ‘global’ is regularly juxtaposed against a relational ‘local’. The © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 H. A. Meyer, The Global Imaginary of International School Communities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-72744-4_3

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construction of the global imaginary within international school communities is therefore generated by a highly ambivalent relationship with host nationals and the host nation. We see here that part of the consciousness of the wider international school community is maintained through the management of the ‘local’, which acts as a symbolic representation of what the community seeks to avoid or exclude, in the pursuit of the ‘global’. After all, clientele are specifically investing in a brand that is quintessentially not local, whatever that ‘local’ might be. This chapter is about boundaries—ones that work to polarise the ‘global’ and the ‘local’ as relational concepts, and the important role they play in the construction of the global imaginary of international school communities. By exploring these boundaries, this chapter illuminates how these abstract symbols become defined in specific ways within community. It looks at how these boundaries can significantly impact mobility for community members within their country of residence and can generate a degree of dependency on the international school system. In the ‘traditional’ sense, international schools operate with a specific market niche, as they provide educational, cultural, and linguistic consistency for internationally-mobile families who relocate often. Nowadays, they are also increasingly catering, in an outward and visible way, to host nationals who are seeking an education that is specifically different to that available locally. Hence, the product on offer is specifically not ‘local’. In fact, some international schools, like ISG, are regulated by the state, and must evidence that they are providing a type of education that is useful to a particular demographic that would find the national education system inaccessible. Therefore, there are often significant external pressures to continuously demonstrate the differences to national schools in order to continue operating. International schools exist through their establishment of strong boundaries, which are important features of community construction. At its very core, the boundaries of international schools are largely built on separating notions of the ‘global’ and ‘local’ which then become materialised and practiced. What is so striking about this is that the ‘local’ is imagined in relation to the context in which the school finds itself. The ‘local’ is relative to the host country of the school, so at ISG, it was interpreted largely as anything considered to be quintessentially ‘German’.

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The global imaginary is therefore not only about projecting the ‘global’ as a community symbol, but also about delineating what the community is not, through the construction of contextually-defined boundaries. These boundaries often lead to a degree of community  isolationism from their host societies. While there are a range of physical, social and cognitive factors that contribute to this (discussed later in this chapter), the international school market benefits from the isolationism and ultimately, the dependency on its school system that is experienced by much of their clientele.

Physical, Social and Mental Boundaries at ISG ISG was nestled within a small forested area amidst vast fields of farmland and countryside. The school was not visible from a highway that ran nearby, nor was it signposted within the area of nearby towns and villages. This seclusion, according to the school, was an essential safety and security precaution. The highway marked a physical boundary for the school—separating the parking lot from the campus itself. This worked as an additional security measure. To enter the school, a paved walkway guided visitors into a tunnel passage below the highway, ending at a security checkpoint. Each visitor was meant to go through a security clearance process. This included a confirmation of appointment (or reason for entering the campus), signing into a logbook, and the collection of a ‘visitor’ badge which was to be worn at all times. Parents with particular roles at the school, for example those holding leadership positions in the Parent Teacher Organisation (PTO) received a badge with their name, picture, and their position at ISG, so that they could enter in a more efficient manner. Parents in such roles would wear their badges on lanyards and would be waved in by the security team, without requiring them to stop. After passing through the security checkpoint, the environment changed from the surrounding rural landscapes: the farmlands transformed into manicured gardens, and a palatial administration building greeted newcomers as the main reception point of the school. On entering this new space, the language switched: it was understood that people here should be speaking English. This was encouraged by the Englishmedium campus signs and visuals, teaching staff encouraging use of the

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‘target language’ (English) and the general domineering presence of the language across all aspects of campus life. These differences are examples of what Lefebvre (1991) describes as physical boundaries of space. These boundaries help us understand our social world and our mobility within it. Physical boundaries can be ‘hard’ borders—walls, buildings, security check points—which encourage people to navigate the environment in a very particular way. These types of boundaries are important, as they can establish a particular place or location as the epicentre of community practices. A fence or a wall outlining the school grounds reinforces the space inside as a ‘school’. Physical boundaries are therefore some of the basic features of physically marking where a community might practice their membership. They can create some of the most ‘obvious’ characteristics of community: the route onto the ISG campus suggested to any visitor that the ISG land was private and controlled, and that the visitor was entering a school. These physical signs help visitors understand and predict behaviour. What makes international school campuses so interesting, is that the physical boundaries extend sometimes beyond what may be predictable. A local visitor might see that they are crossing onto a school campus, but may be surprised at some of the conventions occurring within this space, which certainly differ (sometimes drastically) from the local surrounding environment. Therefore, aside from the material or ‘hard’ borders physical boundaries create, they can also be in the form of rules and conventions, such as speaking English on campus. These are very important in shaping how membership is conceptualised and practiced. The international school community practices its membership by specifically making this language-­ switch once they enter the school’s property. The convention of speaking English, as the official target language on campus, also creates an environment or space that is specifically different to that just outside the gates of the community. By extension, such rules or strongly-encouraged conventions within community life can greatly impact the ways in which members are mobile within their country of residence. Where emphasis at ISG was placed on learning and using English as the target language, once away from campus, members encountered an entirely different value system by their host community—one that placed value on learning German. One

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parent described the experience of international school community membership as ‘always being out of synch’ with what happens locally. There were other very important physical boundaries of this nature that contributed to this feeling of being disconnected from the ‘local’. In similar fashion to other international schools around the world, ISG worked with an academic calendar that aligned with the international school system, instead of the local school system. This has many benefits for the international school network, including the facilitation of mid-­ term international relocations for expat families and collaboration with extra-curricular activities between schools. This calendar granted families the ‘northern summer’ months off from mid-June to mid-August. Local schools in the region would begin their summer break at the end of July and be off until the first weeks of September. The overlap between the two systems was therefore very limited. ISG was obligated by the state to keep to the local bank holidays in Germany as well. However often, the longer Easter breaks and Autumn breaks did not always coincide with schools in the area. This meant that ISG students would have their school breaks when German kids their age would still be in school, and vice versa. These boundaries would also make it difficult for families to have children in both local and international schools at the same time. ISG’s regular, daily school hours were also a physical barrier. The full school hours at ISG were from 9am until 4pm and ISG students would stay on campus for lunch. Locally, children started school around 8am and would go home for lunch around 1pm—marking the end of their school day. One of the reasons for ISG’s schedule was that many of its community members would be commuting long distances to school each day—some kids travelling up to 2 hours to and from school every day. The school days were therefore very long for ISG students, especially if they were involved in extra-curricular activities that took place from 4pm until 5:30pm. Private late school buses would be available for these students. The school hours were a significant physical boundary in the establishment of the school community and its subsequent isolationism, because ISG community members wanting to do an after school sport or club would often be left no other option but to partake in the ISG programme,

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as opposed to joining a local team or club. Local sports teams for example would begin their training practices before ISG’s school day even ended. Even if children were not participating in extra-curricular activities, their daily routines were different to those experienced by local children their age attending public schools in the area. These physical barriers had a dual effect, connecting ISG with its global international school network and being inclusive towards internationally-mobile families; whilst at the same time, isolating them from the local community. It was arguably more suitable for ISG community members to participate in activities and events within the school—particularly if families had more than one child wanting to do more than one after school activity. It was simply more convenient. ISG’s remote location also had many institutional benefits—the school could profit from their privatised transportation system. Its rural countryside location made it relatively challenging to get to, and for this reason, public transportation was severely limited. I found it quite challenging to get to and from the school during my fieldwork without the use of a car. The lack of public transportation options available to community members had enormous benefits, as a significant number of school community members relied, to varying degrees, on the private bus system. The ISG private bus routes were mapped each academic year to individual family’s specific needs. It was an astoundingly complex system that ensured ISG children would be picked up and dropped off from the family home (or as close as possible to it). A typical day for a student attending ISG would therefore involve waiting for the private school bus outside the family residence, travelling with fellow ISG students to the school campus, and returning home in the same manner: to be dropped off directly in front of (or near) home. The process safeguarded students (and even their parents) from engaging with others not associated with the international school. It also meant that some students may have spent from 8am until 6:00pm with fellow members of the school community. One of the popular trends for high schoolers at the time was to take the public transportation, as opposed to the ISG private buses. ISG students choosing to do this would generally take the public bus after school from the ISG campus to a local train station, where they would then take

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trains in various directions to reach their final destinations. Despite the often considerable inconvenience this caused—adding to some commute times quite substantially—it was considered to be ‘cool’, and potentially even aspiring for middle school-aged students, hoping to gain that type of independence once they reached that age. Sometimes, parents would interpret this decision as a minor act of ‘rebellion’ from their teenager(s). One mother of a high schooler talked to me about this dynamic—her son wanted to stop taking the private bus, despite the very large inconvenience for him, and for her, as she had other younger children still taking the ISG bus. She had been in some heated discussions with him about it, and told me that her main issue was the fact that it was an unmonitored mode of transportation—stating that the ISG private buses allowed for her to have a peace of mind that her children would be okay on their long commute to and from school each day. However, she was embattled, as she also recognised the social stigma attached to the private buses at her son’s age. Physical boundaries therefore interlink with social and mental boundaries. ISG’s management of its community’s mobility within the local area through the construction of physical barriers ultimately impacted their social lives to varying degrees, as well as their perception of the host society. Social boundaries relate to the distinctions that are made through social behaviour and social norms between spaces (Hernes 2004). International school communities establish their own social networks through particular behaviour that look and feel different, when compared to the ‘local’ environment outside its gates. When students take the ISG bus, they are socially differentiating themselves from the ‘outside’ through that physical barrier. One German high school student, Saskia, for example, told me that her long commutes made it challenging to socialise with anyone else outside the school community: “…I mean, I don’t know if it’s like this for everyone, but like all of my friends that go to this school don’t have any local friends in their neighbourhoods or anything, because I would never see them because I’m either going to school, or coming back from school. So I guess it’s a bit isolated”.

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Another high school student, Claudia told me a very similar account when asked about her social life outside of school: “…you have this little community within the school, like the kids live in my area, so it’s just easier to stick with them because you know them and you see them in school and then you meet up with them after school and so there’s not really a need to have anything from the outside…it’s good that you have a lot of people here that you can hang out with, and your social life is kind of from school. I don’t know, for me there’s like, not really a need to have a social life outside of [the school community]”.

The school’s physical boundaries certainly impacted socialisation—and created some significant social boundaries for community members including Saskia and Claudia. These boundaries do not necessarily mean they were negatively received or experienced. Boundaries have both positive and negative implications. Either way, these social boundaries also lead to mental boundaries, which form based on perceptions of physical and social accessibility. In the case of students like Saskia and Claudia, the perception of feeling ‘no need’ or not having the time to engage with people ‘outside’ the ISG community, can be viewed as expressions of mental boundaries. Mental boundaries, according to Hernes (2004) are ideas, meanings and beliefs that “form part of the way we cope together in making sense of the world” (2004, p.  82). An international school community’s understanding of their host society happens, to varying degrees, through mental boundaries. Physical, social and mental boundaries are interconnected in interesting formats and dynamics. The physical boundaries of the school often regulate the mobility of its community members on a daily basis, and inevitably impact their social lives. The restriction of independent mobility creates particular ideas that circulate the social groups in the international school community about the host country and its people. This is where mental boundaries begin to form: they relate to ideas about the accessibility (or inaccessibility) of its host society, and to the tolerance of the ‘local’ in the international school’s own community spaces.

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Labels as Boundaries Like many ‘traditional’ international schools, ISG capped its number of host nationals in its admissions process. Each year, only 30% of ISG’s intake of new students could be German nationals—leaving the remaining 70% of applications for internationally-mobile, expat kids. This was outlined in ‘official’ lines of communication, including the school’s website which stated that places would be reserved for “expatriate international students”. The status of ‘expat’ or ‘international’—often used synonymously— not only carried value within the community, but was also officially supported by the institution. These are significant physical, social and mental boundaries, as they manage accessibility and highlight certain discourses of ‘who belongs’ through policy. The regulation of ‘local’ influence at international schools is often seen as an important, and even essential practice to maintain a competitive position in the market and to validate its presence in the host country. In the process, German nationals attending ISG, as ‘locals’, were often (passively) marginalised  as ‘not-quite-­ legitimate’ members of the community. An example of this sentiment was expressed by Jeremy, a teacher at ISG, who told me: “Most people really enjoy the variety that 35-36 different nationalities bring—the sort of ‘international’ way of thinking, is often better—or no, I can’t say BETTER—than the local national”.

As seen, the role of the ‘local’ is an essential antithetical feature for the creation of the global imaginary within these environments. Through practices which polarise the ‘local’, the desirable ‘global’ is illuminated. The physical boundaries set out by the international school system to regulate and manage ‘local’ influence therefore have important knock-on effects in the production of the social imaginary within the community. At one point during my fieldwork, I interviewed Renate, a German national, who sat on the ISG Board of Directors. She was a mother of two students who had begun their education at ISG in primary school. She confirmed that the admissions process at ISG was slightly different for German citizens, as opposed to their expatriate counterparts. She

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explained that ISG not only capped its German intake at 30%, but also gave preference within that 30% to German applicants who demonstrated themselves to be “international thinking and international as individuals”. This measure was made in order to ensure that individuals experiencing the most significant educational, cultural and linguistic barriers in their school-to-school transitions were prioritised. German nationals who had lived abroad, for example, were seen to have a more significant need to attend an international school in Germany, as opposed to a local one, and were therefore prioritised over other German nationals. Renate identified herself as an ‘international-German’, which she defined as a German national who had either lived abroad or had family members living abroad. In her particular case, she had family living in two neighbouring European countries, which she claimed had impacted her family’s global orientation. A ‘German-German’, as Renate went on to explain, was someone who was perceived to have a “limited international social network”, or someone who had never lived abroad. She argued that ‘German-Germans’ would be the least prioritised group admitted into ISG, as they had the right skills to navigate local schools better than other applicants. Given the relative length at which Renate discussed her level of ‘internationality’ with me unsolicited, suggested the high value she placed on the trait and the cultural currency she attached to it. It was also based on the assumption that I, as a former community member, would understand this system of labelling. Defining herself as an ‘international German’ allowed her to validate herself as a rightful member of the international school community. At the same time, she pointed out that her ability to navigate local society as a German national and ‘native-speaker’ put her in a unique position to effectively negotiate with the local society on behalf of the international school, while also effectively drawing on her status as an ‘international German’ to connect to ISG’s expat community. This particular convention of labelling (e.g. [nationality-nationality]) is used similarly in other international school contexts around the world as well. For example, Montgomery (2018) observes the use of the label ‘Thai-Thai,’ used by Thai international school students to refer to host nationals. In addition to this, I have also heard the term ‘local-local’

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circulating the international school system, which is another term specifically labelling host nationals that were born and raised in the host country. This convention of labelling also highlights the interconnectivity of the international school network, the maintenance of such rhetoric and discursive practices, the power of labels and the significance of context in the creation of such social imaginaries. Labels are therefore very important in international school communities—particularly ones that distance the respective individual from locality, as the aspirational quality is to be the opposite: ‘global’, and by extension, ‘international’. Labels like these have certain power-related implications, and were used to validate or legitimise community membership. During interviews and casual conversations, I found that community members often referenced their degree of ‘internationality’, as though it carried a significant amount of value. This has also been noticed by Tanu (2014, 2018) in the context of international schools in Indonesia—again highlighting how these cultural practices circulate the wider international school system. There are other terms used at international schools that help create boundaries. ‘Lifer’ is one of them, largely in reference to ‘local’ students who are not internationally mobile. Some of my interviewees at ISG used the term, including Steve, a member of staff: “[Lifers are] people who are here from pre-K all the way through 12”.

And Elaine, an expatriate mother: “most of the [older students] are local. So they’re Germans—local Germans—who were born and raised here, who want the private education, or want the education in English or whatever the reason is. They’re the Lifers. So they’ll graduate from [ISG]”.

‘Lifer’ thus takes on a slightly negative connotation, suggesting the lack of international mobility in one’s family. Elaine corrected herself in the extract above by clarifying the difference between ‘Germans’ and ‘local Germans’—once again, suggesting the all-important presence of expatriate mobility, or lack thereof. Later in her interview, she revealed a

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commonly used sentiment expressed by expats namely, “there are cultural differences in terms of whether you’re an expat or a local”. She felt expatriates had a mobile culture of their own. German nationals were often ‘out-grouped’ in this way. These comments present some significant social conventions I observed at ISG. The label was generally used quite freely by people in positions of power (i.e. white, internationally-mobile expatriates), who felt relatively comfortable expressing a dislike for host nationals to me. This discourse of marginalisation is conventionalised as a norm which benefits the community’s social imaginary of being a group of ‘global’ (not local) people who share similar, globally-oriented interests. The claim to ‘internationality’ was therefore fundamentally based on nationality and mobility. The practice of labelling individuals based on these criteria was also present at other international schools: In my interview with Michael, he described the cultural composition of the teaching body at an international school located in an Anglophone country, where he had worked prior to ISG: “The teachers at [the International School] were Latin American, French, German, I don’t think there were any—(cuts himself off)—everyone else was French, Spanish, German, Latin American. They all had international backgrounds. So that kept it globally-minded. Because of the experience”.

As a teacher at ISG, he understood ‘global-mindedness’ as being a quality attained through international residency. A common sentiment at international schools is that global-mindedness (or a global orientation) comes from contributions from those who have experiences outside of the host country. The use of the term Third Culture Kid (TCK) was closely connected to ideas of evidencing an international identity to legitimise community membership and create expat spaces. The school frequently used the term, giving it official cultural value, and helping solidify the practice of polarising locality and globality. ISG dedicated an entire page to TCKs on its website, which explained the condition of an internationally-­ mobile, expatriate childhood. It introduced TCK-related themes including the challenges such students face when transitioning into the

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international school community. ‘TCK’ was used to describe students who were mobile—those who had resided in “many” cultures, and were seen as “nomadic”. The needs and challenges of host country nationals were not mentioned anywhere—reinforcing the division between host nationals and expats. The exclusive rhetoric (e.g. “our young global nomads”) identified the expatriate student clientele as the central members of the community. Recently, the label ‘Domestic TCK’ has gained some popularity within international schools in Germany, as a means to describe host nationals and be more inclusive with the attractive label ‘TCK’. The term invites this demographic into the TCK conversation, however, by insisting on using different labels it continues to divide the community. Gary, a school leader at ISG, for example, stated in an interview: “If we had a permanent staff that didn’t move, I think we wouldn’t be very international, quite honestly.” Shortly after this, he stated: “I still think that if you have a monocultural person, [the curriculum] will not be delivered in the same way. So when we recruit, for example, I don’t have a lot of time to judge a character. I look for ‘I-wantINTERNATIONAL-­in-my-career’ teachers”.

The term, ‘monocultural’ is another way of referring to ‘locals’ at international schools, mainly by school leaders, staff and faculty. It is also used within literature on recruitment policies in international schools. Continuous relocating is widely considered a way to avoid ‘monoculturalism’—it becomes a necessary qualification and can appear as a pre-­ requisite to teach within the international school system. The manner in which the label, ‘monocultural’ is often used within the international school system therefore generally relies on the assumption that an individual is ‘monocultural’ until experiencing an international relocation, and by extension, that experiences gained outside the passport country makes an individual ‘international’. This view on cultural mobility actually reduces real, lived experiences of acquiring and demonstrating intercultural awareness in other ways. For example, an individual could quite easily lead a diverse, multicultural life without ever leaving their hometown. Conversely, an individual who has gained significant

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experience ‘globe-trotting’, might engage solely with monolingual, culturally similar expatriate enclaves around the world. The term, ‘monocultural’ is therefore another term to establish social boundaries and determine community membership (including perceptions on who belongs, and who does not belong). While the school tended to link the more desirable term, ‘TCK’ to individuals who had indeed experienced international relocations, most of the students I asked had not heard of the term at all. I received similar responses to those when I inquired about ‘global-mindedness’ (see Chap. 2). The following example came from a focus group of 16 year olds at ISG, after I asked them about the term, ‘TCK’: Oliver: …what’s that? Nico: TOK1? Heather: No, no. TCK. It stands for Third Culture Kid. Matt: It’s like what we are, having to move so much somewhere, getting to know different cultures. Others: Ohhhhhhh. Matt: Well, I mean everyone, like most everyone here, easily more than half of our grade are TCKs. I mean, you don’t walk around promoting it. It’s just kind of like everyone is used to it because we’re surrounded by other Third Culture Kids. Someone’s like, ‘I’ve lived in two places’, and I’m like, ‘Well I’ve lived in like five places, what’s your point?’.

Out of the entire group, only one student had heard of the term before. He argued that the label was not something students used to actively identify themselves, and defined the term according to an expatriate (and thus not local) status. It is also very interesting to see nonetheless a level of competition about the degree of internationality—where living in five places is better than living in two. Adult members of the community however, used the ‘TCK’ term quite frequently, possibly because they were either practitioners within an institution which officially recognised and valued its association with the label, or they were clientele (parents) who had invested in the school’s  By ‘TOK’, Nico was referring to Theory of Knowledge—a component of the IB curriculum offered at ISG. 1

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orientation and value system. Several teachers had recommended for my research David Pollock and Ruth Van Reken’s book, Third Culture Kids,2 and many had it in their classrooms as a reference for students who were struggling with international transitions. Its wide use, however, indicates a less ‘glamorous’ aspect to the popular label. Cathy, a school counsellor, mentioned that the book helped popularise the social issues students deal with upon serial-relocating: “I don’t know if you know the book, ‘Third Culture Kids’, that’s spread the awareness during the last six or seven years, but the thing for middle school kids and high school kids is it’s a real issue for them leaving their friends”.

Given that ISG placed special attention on the TCK, parents placed value on the term as well, which was interpreted in different ways. This is unsurprising, provided that the term was institutionally used in reference to only a particular demographic of the school community and framed as a unique and valued form of identity. The TCK label was used often to signal a degree of exclusivity and ‘uniqueness’. Categorisation only works through ‘othering’. While ISG and most expatriate members interpreted the term as referring to students who had transitioned to Germany from abroad, some German nationals also considered their children to be TCKs. For example, Veronika, a German parent of two elementary school children who had attended ISG since pre-Kindergarten, explained that her children were ‘TCKs’ due to the English-medium, international education they had received. She argued that because her children had received this form of education, they exhibited a greater potential to live abroad in comparison to students educated in the German school system. Veronika was the only German participant who used the term ‘Lifer’ to describe her own children. When she used it, she shrugged and cringed— suggesting she acknowledged the negative connotation the term had  The Third Culture Kid Experience: Growing up Among Worlds (1999) (and its subsequent editions, with slightly modified titles) by David C. Pollock and Ruth van Reken is widely recommended by international schools and peer groups to students who are perceived to fit the profile of ‘TCK’ in that particular context. These books provide accounts of individuals who navigated their changing identities as they entered new countries of residence and returned ‘home’ to their passport countries. 2

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within the community. She identified her children as ‘Third Culture Kids’ nonetheless, which shows not only the extent to which the term was valued within this environment, but also that parents fashioned the term according to their own particular circumstances, as a way to avoid being labelled as the ‘local’ other. The TCK label has evolved over the past few decades into becoming a widely used and referenced term, even outside the international school realm. Its popularity gives it cultural value—granting its referent a degree of exclusivity and status. It has been seen within the global marketplace (Selmer and Lam 2004) and in popular culture. Many books promoted in international schools, or co-authored by international school staff use the term positively and enthusiastically, labelling ‘TCKs’ as “young phenomena” (Van Reken 2014, p. xxiii), the “prototype citizens of the future” (Ward cited in Ota 2014, p. LIV), or “cultural bridges” (Zilber 2004, p. 18), and members negotiate these terms to position themselves and others within a globally-oriented social imaginary that is valued within the international school system. Institutionally, ISG was able to support the reproduction of the global imaginary through the provision of boundaries, including physical seclusion and exclusive labels that regulated the presence of the ‘local’. Of course, the convention of managing the amount of ‘locality’ that enters the international school space creates a value system that is only valid within the international school system. The label ‘TCK’ may carry little to no weight in certain spaces outside the community, just as a ‘global’ (and therefore not ‘local’) identity could be entirely useless outside of the international school boundaries, where potentially a whole set of other, perhaps more ‘local’ skills are valued and appropriate. The global imaginary therefore is reliant on the boundaries (and isolationism) that international schools define and reconstruct. This includes the structures of curriculum, which shapes experiences both within and across community boundaries.

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The Boundaries of Curriculum Over the past two decades, there has been some acknowledgement of the regulatory measures taking place within international schools to monitor the extent to which the ‘local’ appears within the community. Allen (2000), among other more recent scholarship on this topic (e.g. Bunnell et al. 2016) points towards the issue of having disproportionate cultural representation within international school learning spaces. The general perception, or argument, is largely market-related, but also there is the belief that ‘international’ schools must be ‘inter-national’—with a large, proportionate number of nationality groups present, as to avoid cultural “bias towards one group” (Allen 2000, pp. 129–130). Given that ‘traditional’ international schools like ISG are English-­ medium, there is indeed a significant Anglo-cultural influence that is both implicitly and explicitly deemed as ‘international’ or ‘global’. English at international schools is constructed as a globally-oriented skill. However languages are culturally loaded, and this is where the cultural bias inevitably comes out in innumerable ways—particularly when ‘native speaker’ staff members are delivering the curriculum. It would be nearly impossible to extract this form of cultural bias from international schools. The framing of Anglophone culture as globally-relevant and ‘international’ is an element that helps construct the global imaginary of the community, and ultimately helps to draw boundaries that establish the school as different to what is available locally. Therefore, at the other end of the global-local spectrum, is the framing of German culture as the ‘reverse’ of ‘internationality’. Poor (2005) alludes to this as Head of School at a variety of international schools across the globe, being strongly critical of the “superficial inclusion of the host culture in the curriculum” (2005, p.  353), and advocates for stronger school cultures which can benefit from their local surroundings. This article was written 15 years ago, and the argument still stands today. It is important to discuss how the Anglophone world was illuminated in classrooms at ISG, and the extent to which perceptions of ‘internationality’ were actually embedded within an Anglo-cultural bias. It produces a very particular understanding of ‘globality’ that is specifically

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different to mainstream culture available right outside the community’s gates. Similarly, an evaluation of the German language programme at ISG will be necessary, as a space in which students were obligated to engage with the German language, society and culture while at school. Furthermore, the school’s community service programme provision at ISG encouraged students to engage with their host society as a required component of the ‘international’ curriculum. These three core elements of curricular activity across all three schools highlight how the boundaries between the ‘global’ and the ‘local’ become prominent, while also at times, converged, blurry and contested.

Boundaries and the Role of Language In my first year of fieldwork, I was invited by a middle-school teacher to conduct a series of classroom observations. The class I was observing on this particular day was an IT class of 12–13 year-olds using laptops. Glancing around, the classroom had been decorated with referents to Anglophone literature and literary artists, including Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. Next to the whiteboard was a referent to the school’s mission of ‘global-­ mindedness’ and beneath that, the usual display of colourful, laminated placards of the International Baccalaureate (IB) Learner Profile. As students worked on their computers, a student in the corner asked the teacher what the expression, ‘too far down the rabbit hole’ meant. Another student quickly responded before the teacher saying “Like Peter Rabbit!” Some students giggled. He then asked, “What’s Peter Rabbit?” The teacher looked up and said, “You don’t know what Peter Rabbit is?” Students in the background snickered. Blushing a bit, he nodded his head, ‘no’. The exchange, amidst a background of Anglo-cultural referents, is an example of the extent to which the school not only placed value on English as the target language, but also on particular cultural elements of the Anglo-world that students were expected to be familiar with. After all, this was what some parents were investing in. Classroom activities and materials, the international curricula (excluding foreign language classes), extra-curricular programmes, community events and official

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literature of the school were in English and, by extension, exhibited a strong Anglo-cultural influence and bias. An English-medium education is what ISG, as an international school, advertised and promoted. I found that school leaders and faculty members regularly rejected the notion that their classrooms were particularly influenced by specifically British or American culture. In fact, when interviewing an ISG member of staff, I used the word ‘soccer’ and she corrected me by saying, “It’s football. We’re not American. We’re international”. Elementary school teacher Michael also stated that his class was not specific to any culture— neither American nor British—but rather, ‘globally-minded’—using the mission to suggest that the school transcended cultural boundaries. I received similar comments when inquiring about the teaching staff demographics—administrators and teachers did not like to acknowledge that the majority of the teaching staff did in fact come from Anglophone countries. International schools are regularly faced with this dilemma— as clientele invest in the English-medium education, which is ‘ideally’ provided by ‘native-speaker’ staff, while simultaneously demanding an ‘international’ curriculum. It is indeed an extremely challenging task to claim to provide an ‘international’ education without any form of cultural bias that stems from the target language. As a result of this, international schools tend to have an Anglophone cultural influence that is somewhat cloaked as ‘international’ as a community discourse, and ultimately framed and packaged as an ‘international’ characteristic of the school system. Tanu’s (2018) ethnographic account of an international school in Indonesia observes this as well. The role of English and the Anglophone cultural influence at her school, coupled with the notion of whiteness in the postcolonial context really draws attention to the impact of a hidden curriculum. She argues that English language proficiency and having the ‘right’ accent is a form of cultural currency that validates an ‘international’ identity at school. The role of English as a way to demonstrate or evidence one’s internationality is something I observed at ISG as well. These similar research experiences highlight the interconnectedness of the international school system and the prioritisation it gives to Anglophone language and culture, all over the world.

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At the time of my fieldwork, over 75% of ISG’s staff were from English-­ speaking countries. As a result of the Anglo-cultural composition of faculty, coupled with the notion that ‘internationality’ is linked to the Anglo-world, classrooms were ‘internationalised’ by containing objects, brands and images typically found in British, Canadian and U.S. classrooms: ‘Scholastic’ and ‘Northwest Regional Education Library’ posters; materials on ‘imperial’ measurement systems; yellow Dixon Ticonderoga number 2 pencils; ‘Highlights3’ magazines; and, as mentioned previously, references to literary works from nearly unanimously British and American novelists, poets and writers. Where objects like generic pencils were obviously available in Germany, the number 2 yellow pencils symbolically ‘internationalised’ the classroom: they added an object that was not readily available in local stores. It created an environment which was exclusive, and most importantly: specifically not local. In interviews and formal discussions, community members associated English language proficiency with ‘internationality’. Closely associated with this was linguistic variety, which helped to construct the notion of an ‘international’ accent, as characteristic of an international school upbringing, and held a lot of cultural currency within the community. However, this ‘international’ accent was interpreted in various ways to me at ISG. Some members referred to the accent as a variety which was generated through exposure to other individuals who were considered to be ‘international’ (i.e. not local, German). One ISG alumna and British national proudly stated at an alumni event, “I think my international accent is coming back”. Here, she was referring to an American-influenced accent that they were regaining after spending a couple days with alumni of the international school. Others within the community argued that the ‘international accent’ was British-influenced: “You know, there are people who are here from [pre-Kindergarten] all the way through [grade] 12. And just even their international accents—they might be British, but it’s not quite a British accent” (Steve).

 This is a children’s educational magazine that was developed in the 1940s in the U.S. It is common to see it in U.S. elementary school classrooms, and is available for institutional and individual subscription (Highlights 2020). 3

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While there was a disagreement about which accent qualified most as ‘international’, it was undisputed that it derived from either American or British English and that it was important to acquire it. Tanu (2018) makes similar observations in her ethnographic work in Indonesia. I have seen references to the ‘international accent’ of international schools in other contexts including conferences, at other international schools, and online forums for various international school communities. I have also taught students from various international schools around the world attending university who have referenced their ‘international accent’ to me in class. It certainly is a form of cultural currency within these spaces. The emphasis placed on the English language stemmed from the school’s programme objectives. Students were meant to use the target language during contact hours (curricular and extra-curricular). The emphasis on English led to regulatory practices, and circumstances in which groups and individuals were categorised according to their language capabilities. Simone, a member of staff at ISG, explained to me that there had been an after-school activities instructor who had brought on a high level of criticism from kids and parents because he often taught in German, and not in English. After further investigation, she discovered that while he was speaking predominantly in English, his counting and some cuing was in German: “As a policy on campus, instructors that are hired outside of the campus are to speak English. Unfortunately because this instructor learned to dance with the German language and taught outside the school also in German, it was a challenge for him to remember every time to count in English and to cue in English. So it started out with 22 kids and it dropped to a mere 5. So we had to drop the programme…Other German instructors speak English quite well. We have [another] instructor who is German that comes from the outside. He’s been with the school for [several] years…and has a great connection with the kids because he can speak their language (English). I haven’t encountered anyone that primarily speaks German because as the school policy, [instructors] are supposed to speak the international language at the school. And that’s English.”

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Simone’s description clearly illustrates the community’s social imaginary—there was a particular reaction towards the extent to which the ‘local’ tampered with the ‘internationality’ of the school. The German language was regularly pitted against perceptions of ‘internationality’— one of which was English. These instructors, as host nationals, were described as ‘coming from the outside’, which suggests that they were not entirely perceived as full community members. This is significant, as they were paid members of staff, just like their expatriate counterparts. It highlights the ways in which boundaries are imagined—there was a particular sensitivity to the presence of ‘Germanness’ within ISG community practices, while at the same time, there was a high level of tolerance to ‘expat’ nationalities and the presence of other ‘expat’ languages within the informal spaces of the school. Once again, this connects to the brand, as the expat identity was seen to contribute positively to the ‘internationality’ of the school—with the Anglophone world as the aspirational common cultural and linguistic referent to all community members.

Learning German at ISG I became very interested in the areas of school life in which students were required to engage with ‘Germanness’ in a ‘formal’ way. Still, even though English was considered a form of cultural currency within ISG, students received an average of three hours of compulsory German lessons per week until grade 10. However, the language was not considered essential: from grade 6 onwards, students took an additional language on top of German, from a choice of French, Spanish and Mandarin Chinese; and from grade 11, students could drop German language classes altogether. Therefore, after middle school, German was treated as just another foreign language amidst the other language offerings. As seen in the previous chapter, classrooms visually articulated and reinforced the school mission and the IB Learner Profile, highlighting notions of globality and intercultural exchange. However, these exchanges rarely involved anything ‘local’ (in this case, German). In the high school, only one of the classrooms contained a visual representation of German language on its walls. This was an English literature classroom which was used by the German

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department for weekly language lessons, and included posters of: Gesundheit und miteinander leben (Wellbeing and Living Together), Umwelt (Environment), Keine Hälfte der Welt kann ohne die andere Hälfte der Welt überleben (One Half of the World Cannot Survive Without the Other’), and Retten Sie die hübschen Wale (Save the Beautiful Whales). While these posters chimed the school’s widely used rhetoric of global humanitarianism, they were void of themes of locality—the only connection to it being the German language. They were also relatively out-of-­ date—a few dated to the 1990s. German language teachers, particularly in the high school, faced several challenges—the most significant one being related to the reluctance, resistance and/or disinterest from some of the expat students in learning the local language. Fitzsimons (2019) observes similar characteristics at international schools in Serbia and Belgium. Moreover, language teachers in general were very limited in terms of resources. Monika, a German teacher told me that she was very frustrated with the fact that the school did not allocate language specific rooms, and expected language teachers to teach in other subject-specific classrooms. “What am I supposed to do in a science lab?” she complained, and told me that she had stopped bringing maps and other learning materials to her classes because there was no place to hang them. Therefore, while the school’s orientation and its IB curriculum was centred on a wider, ‘global’ approach, the teaching of languages, including the local language was repeatedly side-lined and marginalised. I asked a school leader about German and he responded: “I think exposure to the [German] language and the culture, generally is done with the German classes. Well, I suppose the kids have games against local teams, field trips, that’s about it. Aside from the local culture, I think the one thing I would like to move more towards here, which needs more than just one person to do it, is creating a greater intercultural awareness amongst students. Which is not specific to local culture, but a culture of itself. And, how the environment that we’re in, not only affects us, but we affect it”.

And later reinforced this statement with:

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“Judging by the most recent survey, it seems to be mostly the Germans who want something more from the German programme. Hard to know what, because our kids do pretty well. I mean, you can’t emulate [a] German school because it’s not trying to be [one]”.

During our exchange, I got the impression that he wanted me to understand the ‘global’ and the ‘international’ nature of the school and its mission of creating an ‘intercultural’ learning environment, and that he saw these factors as contrasting to the local. He actively dismissed the issue of the German language as relevant to the school and its overarching objectives. Intercultural awareness, he argued, was something to be achieved within the school. He also refuted the notion that the German programme was in need of improvement, and suggested that the expectations expressed by German parents did not align with the school’s purpose. As this school leader claimed, the primary mode through which students engaged with the German language was in their weekly German lessons. However, I discovered that many students felt their German was not progressing due to the structure of the programme. The school divided its German language programme between two strands: German A (for ‘Germans’) and German B (for the rest). German B was divided further into three groups: German lower (for beginners), German standard (for lower-intermediate levels), and German higher (for higher intermediate levels). The programme was described in the following way in one of my focus groups with 16 year-old expat students attending different German B levels: Heather: How’s your German? Brian: Well…(sighs) (All laugh and fidget around.) Andre: You and [Thomas] are like in the 2nd year [of German], andBrian: I’m a beginner. Heather: Beginner. Ok. Andre: Well I’m a fifth year [in German], so me and Thomas are like…(pause) Heather: Top level?

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Andre: Well, I was kicked out of the top level. She didn’t like me, mostly because of my personality. (All students laugh.) Heather: Where did they put you? Andre: German B Higher. Heather: So is that kind of like in between? Matt: I’m in German B standard, with most German 4th and 5th years, maybe even 6th year. We’re all in German B standard. Andre: The thing is, German A is too challenging for me as well as many others, so they go to German B Higher, but that’s too simple—not simple, but we feel that we are going back. Heather: So German B has got a huge group of different levels thrown together? Matt: Yeah, so there are huge discrepancies in the levels. The German B Standard class is so huge that there are people who have been here since like 2nd and 3rd grade, and then there are people that came here like only 2 years ago. Heather: So is German A what Germans do? Andre: Yeah, so they call it German for Germans—‘Deutsch für Deutsche’”.

The format of dividing the German language programme into four stages—three for expats and one for Germans—meant that students could spend years within the same stage without progressing, which led to feelings of being ‘stuck’. Around this same time, I had a conversation with Rachel, a high school student at ISG. This conversation stood out to me as particularly memorable and exemplifies how the de-emphasis on German language impacts the physical, social and mental mobility of ISG community members. Rachel was born and raised in Germany, but was an American citizen. Both her parents were American and worked for the U.S. Army, however her family had always lived off of the army bases, in  local neighbourhoods. She was entirely educated in the international school system within Germany, having attended international schools in a different region of the country, and had joined ISG when she was in middle school. She told me that she had no ‘German’ friends and that her German language skills were ‘okay’, and was amused when I asked if she would attend a local university. Her laugh seemed to suggest she found my question

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absurd. Not only did she feel her German was not good enough, but she also mentioned that her mathematics credits from ISG were not recognised by German universities: “I can’t go to a German university even if I wanted to”, she stressed. What was especially memorable about this conversation was that she started to tell me of her preparations for going ‘back’ to her so-called ‘home country’ to study. Her affinity to the U.S. was very clear—a place she considered ‘home’, despite not being born there and having never lived there. When I asked her about how she felt about the transition, she expressed concerns, and hoped that she would ‘fit in okay’ in U.S. university life. We also chatted about her social network. She told me about how she and her family were involved in ISG-related activities and her friends were all ISG students. She lived quite far away from the school and commuted long distances every day. On the weekends, she would often go to the U.S. army base with her family and play softball, or go to the American cinema there. She told me she did not speak German outside of her German B higher classes at ISG. This particular case shows the extent to which physical boundaries, such as the curricular regulation of German, has an impact on social and mental mobility. Rachel’s German proficiency level and her lack of confidence in her language abilities, together with her family’s social network, impacted her socialisation activities outside of the school. The continued lack of exposure to German society and minimal engagement with the language interfered with her ability to construct and maintain a sense of belonging in the country where she had been born and raised. The physical boundaries that had been established within the international school system that had ultimately prevented her from learning the host country language to a fluent level during her life had, to a certain extent, determined her future. While the international school system had provided an exceptional set of ‘global’ skills that would (likely) grant her a place at an excellent university and make her highly employable in the global marketplace, she lacked some of the fundamental ‘local’ skills that would make her mobile and employable in her own country of residence.

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Curricular Field Trips The school’s global orientation also included an aim to connect students to distant geographies, cultures and societies, which was reinforced through curricular and extracurricular field trips. Travel was seen as an important component life at ISG, and travel opportunities were regularly signposted and promoted as a central feature of an international school community experience. The school offered field trips within Germany, built into its curriculum for particular age groups. These field trips regularly took on an ‘international’ dimension, sometimes focusing on cultures perceived as ‘international’ within Germany. An example was a 6th grade field trip day at a local museum, which specifically hosted exhibits on non-­ European art and culture. The rationale behind the trip was to create a ‘multicultural learning space’ in which students were exposed to non-­ European countries and cultures. In this particular case, students looked at African masks, Islamic art and Latin American textiles. Students were given materials to draw what they saw and took notes over the course of the day. The school’s Spanish Department also attended to expose their beginner Spanish language classes to Latin American cultures. The museum was a popular venue for local field trips, suggesting the school had established links with it. In many ways these were practices of consumption and tourism. In her study involving mobile professionals affiliated with an international organisation, Nowicka (2012) suggests that expatriate communities display tendencies of engaging with cultures in the format of tourism: “they consume places; they get to know few locals; they try out ‘exotic’ dishes. They remain at the surface, which stays in contradiction to their own self-descriptions”. (2012, p. 8)

Field trips at ISG largely involved the same processes: consuming ‘culture’ as well as global and local ‘folklore’ in ways that kept the host society and culture out-of-focus, whilst carefully managing the actual degree of interaction.

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As seen in Chap. 2, day field trips also tended to take on objectives set by the particular grade level’s curricular agendas. These included a trip to the countryside, which aligned with the 5th grade geography unit on topography; a trip to a concentration camp, which corresponded with the 8th grade English unit on Holocaust literature; and nature / camping trips and retreats in the 10th, 11th and 12th grades to remote locations in the Alps, in fulfilment of the ‘leadership’ components of the IB curriculum. The exposure to German society and culture in the form of travel was present, though relatively minimal, and often cloaked with alternative objectives which satisfied the wider aims of the IB curriculum. I was told field trips put on by the German department were extremely rare, for the reason that students were separated across language stages. Therefore, those that did occur were often on offer as ‘extra credit’ options for after school. This stood in marked contrast to field trip opportunities to Spain or France provided for high schoolers enrolled in Spanish and French language classes. Ironically, even within foreign languages and their cultures, the ‘local’ language was at a disadvantage in terms of field trips.

Creativity, Activity, Service (CAS) Still, ISG, as an accredited IB World School, provided additional opportunities for students to engage with their host culture and society .The most significant one was the IB’s ‘Creativity, Activity, Service’ (CAS) programme for the 11th and 12th graders, and its affiliated programme ‘Community and Service’ (C&S) for younger students at ISG. I became very interested in this, because it was one of the main curricular pathways giving students the opportunity to engage with their local environment outside the school. All middle school and high school students attending ISG were obligated to participate in a community service activity or project each year, and were closely monitored by grade-specific CAS and C&S staff to ensure they fulfilled these requirements as a means to continue onto the next grade level. The IB’s CAS programme was linked to a set of ambitions and aims: it should enable students to “undertake new challenges”; “increase awareness of strength and areas for growth”; “plan

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and initiate activities”; “work collaboratively with others”; “show perseverance and commitment”; “engage with issues of global importance”; “consider ethical implications”; and “develop new skills” (CAS 2016). It was a three-stranded programme in which students were required to complete a total of 150 hours over the course of their two years (11th and 12th grades). Strands include ‘Creativity’, which involves the participation in a creative project of some kind; ‘Activity’, which involves performing any form of organised physical activity; and ‘Service’ which involves a community service project. Each student had to perform 50  hours across each of the three strands within the 2 year time frame. The CAS programme was not formally assessed, but monitored by the school CAS coordinators, and it was a requirement to fulfil the CAS component of the IB diploma to graduate. This programme has been seen to grant students the opportunity to forge links with the host society in which they reside (Bunnell 2005; Allan 2002; Kulundu and Hayden 2002). It is also prominently associated with the rhetoric in achieving ‘global-mindedness’ through ‘taking risks’ and forming intercultural bonds created through these community service acts. These objectives mirror those promoted by ISG.  As supported by Kulundu and Hayden (2002), the Service component of the programme is not designed to ‘serve’, but rather to create a learning experience for students beyond the classroom. Therefore, it is meant to provide an avenue for international school students to traverse physical, social and mental boundaries which may normally restrict their mobility. However, the fulfilment of the service component of CAS was hindered by a number of physical boundaries and practical barriers, which prevented ISG’s expatriate students from accessing local resources. Steve, a member of staff who was engaged in the school’s CAS programme, had discovered that students who did not speak German found it difficult to realise the service component of the programme because they lacked the knowledge, skills, and/or resources to navigate the local environment. They may also have demonstrated a reluctance to navigate ‘uncharted’ waters. Instead, many expat students at ISG opted to create service projects within the boundaries of the international school system, which, as Steve claimed, circumvented potential feelings of vulnerability and anxiety involved with non-institutionalised intercultural exchanges.

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Instead, they raised money through on-campus bake sales, helped with events organised and run by the Parent Teacher Organisation, or acted as assistant coaches or referees in the after-school activities for younger ISG students. By regularly conducting their projects on campus, the students were able to keep operating in a cognitive space with which they were familiar; they maintained a physical presence within the borders of the school; and restricted their social engagement to the school’s social network. Steve told me that he had felt pressure to relax the CAS guidelines to accommodate the language and cultural barriers experienced by the school’s expat students. For example, CAS leaders had recently opted to extend community service categories from ‘local’ and ‘global’ projects, to an additional ‘school’ projects category. After speaking with students, they had found that this option had turned out to be the most popular. In this way, students were not pressured to cross such boundaries if they were unwilling. The familiar environment for expats was the ISG community, or other expat communities nearby (e.g. the U.S. army bases). “Sometimes it’s difficult for students to break out into the German speaking community because their German isn’t good enough. So we let them do things here on campus, or within the Japanese community or within the Swedish community, or wherever it is”. (Steve)

Steve had also mentioned to me that there had been an exceptional expat student who had joined a ‘local’ basketball league as a means to improve his German. He told me that this student stood out as a ‘risk taker’ (referencing the IB Learner Profile). Some students and staff perceived the physical barriers as a central reason to bypass potential projects within the host country, as Steve explained: “The hardest thing though, that we have to consider at our school is that it’s based in the countryside. It is a bit of a demand on our students. Because we’re saying, ‘this is an independent part of your study, you have to do this’, but the logistics of them getting to [the city] and then, you know it’s all about the busing. You know? School is not cancelled because of the weather. But school is cancelled if the buses don’t run. So sometimes the logistics of where our school is makes it quite difficult for the students to get out into the community”.

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The statement was interesting, as many students lived in the city and commuted into the countryside to get to the school. Moreover, the region has an exceptionally strong public transportation network. This contradiction suggests that placing blame on the transport system is likely to have derived from a mental boundary constructed within the school. Similar sentiments were expressed by Kulundu and Hayden (2002), in which international school students spoke of transportation issues as affecting service projects based off of the international school campus in Masaru, Lesotho. The scholars argue that a better provision of transportation to local venues would produce more willingness to seek contact with locals; and would lead the school to becoming more proactive in promoting locally-conducted service projects. Their findings, coupled with the data collected from my site, suggests the presence of a more general discourse within the international school system in relation to CAS programming. Upon speaking with expat students in my focus groups, I was made aware that the general regard for ISG’s CAS programme was relatively low: Heather: So I noticed there’s a community service-(All students lean forward and sigh loudly) Heather: Talk to me about CAS—what’s your experience with it? What are you doing? Andre: All my Action is for football. Heather: So Action counts asOliver: Most students do sports to fulfil Action points. Brian: For Service, I help out with the Basketball scoring. Andre: Yeah! He does like, ALL of our games. Brian: I don’t know what I’m gonna do for Creativity. Like, no idea! Heather: So how many points do you have to collect in total? Brian: One hundred and fifty. Andre: Yeah that’s ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY POINTS! Heather: What are you doing? Oliver: I’m actually creating a fitness programme for the school. Heather: So does that go towards Service? Oliver: Actually, it goes towards Service and Creativity. So it’s really great. It’s like, double! Heather: What about you? (Pointing to Matt)

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Matt: Usually I do a project—like, in 9th grade with a bunch of other people, I did a service project with the Young Life Organization, like a Christian youth group, and we went to Greece and we built a playground. They kind of connect with other international schools, and so that’s how I got involved with them. Andre: I’m going to East Africa.

None of the students from this particular group opted to participate in service projects involving the German public. Each of these students chose to work on the ISG campus or to do a project abroad. In this way, they were able to participate in projects which involved the international school community. Projects which demanded international travel were regarded as particularly valuable and directly contributed to the school community’s global imaginary. ISG offered various outreach programmes in which students could participate to collect CAS Service points. One example was the East Africa Project,4 which was established in the 1980s as an aid mission. The initiative included an impressive number of projects involving collaboration with schools, aid and eye clinics, farms and hospitals. These contacts had been built over the years by ISG and other international schools. The East Africa Project allowed a group of approximately 24 ISG students each year to personally deliver donations and equipment. Trips included visits to orphanages, schools, clinics, a local village and a safari. Students went through a serious application process with a final interview before selection took place. The programme was clearly designed to instil the school, IB and CAS objectives in participants. So while students opted out of conducting local service projects for reasons of inaccessibility, they may have found themselves involved in a service project located on an entirely different continent. The provision of travel opportunities for service projects abroad were frequently seen as more manageable and more attractive, than those available locally. Fundraising also played a large role in the preparation for the East Africa Project. Students were meant to raise approximately 300 euros each throughout the school year to meet the trip donation requirements.  The ‘East Africa Project’ is a pseudonym for purposes of anonymity.

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On top of that, this project cost each student approximately 3000 euros for the 2.5 week trip, which included flights, room and board, insurance and a camping safari. Andre explained, prior to his departure: Heather: What is the East Africa Project? Andre: It’s the coolest thing ever! We each have to raise 300 euros in order to go. You go to different things, you go to orphanages, you go to a school, you have the hospital, you have the eye doctor and the local doctor and the local farm, and it’s like a bunch of service projects, you build new classrooms. You’re there for two and a half weeks.

The student’s answer is largely centred on going places, and is, in this regard, similar to other responses I received from students—reflecting the importance placed on travel. In many ways, the East Africa trip (among others) had various ‘Voluntourism’ elements—whereby discourses of ‘othering’ and stereotypes are strengthened, and significantly, where travellers “inappropriately take on roles of ‘expert’ or ‘teacher’ regardless of their experience or qualifications [which] can be seen to represent the neo-colonial construction of the westerner as racially and culturally superior” (Raymond and Hall 2008, p. 531). While the intentions were purely positive in such service projects, it raises questions surrounding what is meant through practices of ‘global citizenship’ within international school communities. The exchange in East Africa was beneficial to students in different ways. They were given an opportunity to tour a new region of the world and receive recognition and gratitude for the money they raised. They also collected a form of cultural currency valued at ISG through their involvement in charity and experience overseas and completed a curricular requirement. Several international schools located in different parts of the world, including ISG, used a specific international school in this region as a base for the project. This school offered its dormitories for a fee throughout the year to international schools keen to provide their students with such intercultural exchanges on the African continent. These visiting international schools promoted their East Africa service trip in a similar fashion (online and elsewhere) and described similar proceedings (local village, orphanage, etc.). Such projects boost the reputation of international

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schools which associate the humanitarian efforts with ‘global’ education and the IB Learner Profile. Similarly, the ‘World Challenge’ programme attracted a number of international schools across the region, including ISG. It offered excursion projects for selected high school students to a foreign destination. Steve described to me as “a really cool company because it really epitomises the IB Learner Profile and the type of students that we want because it’s Service and Leadership…so last year they were in Northern India”.

Students participating in the World Challenge, like those of the East Africa Project, also contributed their reflections for publication in the school magazine. Steve described one World Challenge trip to me: “[In Mongolia, ISG students] went to a prison where there were murderers and rapists—but it was all safe, I mean, World Challenge, they’re so complete—they don’t do anything that would endanger anyone. But when the students came back they were just talking about how they felt, and how nervous they were, and they organised a little soccer tournament [against those who were] their age, and the contact that these inmates wanted from the outside world was something that could change your life forever. But it’s something [the inmates] really needed. But what our students really took away from it was that they just felt so proud of their accomplishment”.

Steve’s statement mirrors some of the statements that had been written in the student reflections—notions of thankfulness, and assumptions based on a perceived ‘need’ of those being visited. When at the school, I heard many statements and reflections like this being made about charity-based projects and service trips conducted outside of Europe. There was a consistent air of confidence in the notion that these trips were humanitarian acts—that the students were needed abroad and that others needed whatever it was that the students brought to them. World Challenge excursions were guided, group-oriented, conducted in English, and chaperoned by familiar faculty and a member of the

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World Challenge staff. According to Steve, students paid approximately 3000 euros to participate. While conducting a service project at a prison in Germany may also have been an option, ‘World Challenge’ projects taking place on other continents were, quite naturally, perceived in comparison with more appeal—particularly as most of the destinations facilitated by the organisation were in the Global South.5 In fact, students gained a significant amount of cultural capital (Bourdieu 1986) from these ventures. They earned CAS points, accolades from the school and the community for travelling great distances to conduct humanitarian projects, and gained an (exotic) ‘intercultural’ experience that could be referenced to support university applications and job interviews in the future. Nonetheless, out of all the service projects, the East Africa Project was advertised most heavily, and most frequently. The school website included a page specifically dedicated to it—publishing the student reflections, information on how to donate financially, and a list of year-round community activities which raised funds for the upcoming trips. These activities involved the entire school: parents, teachers, staff, faculty and students. They included an ‘East Africa Bookshop’, ‘Teachers versus Students Halloween Football match’, ‘East Africa Sit-up and Plank-a-­ thon’, snack and drink bar during shows and performances, ‘Homeroom Challenges including Cattle/Farm Equipment fundraisers’, and ‘3-Pointers’ during ISG Basketball games.6 These modes of fundraising spanned across all facets of community life: adult extracurricular activities, classrooms, community events, athletics and the arts. The East Africa Project was key in constructing the school as ‘global’ and also in reinforcing its symbolic borders. Additionally, ISG organised an annual school-wide CAS assembly in which students participating in the East Africa Project and World Challenge could present reflections, photos and videos of their service  A minority of destinations are located in Europe including Croatia, Romania, Norway and Iceland (World Challenge 2020). In fact, the company does not advertise destination options in North America or Australia. During the years of my research, ISG students participating in this programme travelled to destinations located in the Global South. 6  Students participated in a 3-point contest, during which money was raised for each shot scored from the 3-point line on the basketball court. 5

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contributions whilst abroad. Participants in such projects were required to produce written accounts (mostly in the form of reflections), presentations at such assemblies, and sometimes even a movie documentary of their trip. These contributions were ultimately used to promote the fund to potential donors within the school community, and to advertise the trip as an attraction offered by the school to prospective student participants. The student reflections, project updates and reports were documented in each issue of the school magazine. While locally-conducted projects were not the main focus of such CAS assemblies, they nonetheless existed. Some students participated in local charities to acquire service points. Steve stated that German students tended to be more active in  locally-conducted service projects, for the reason that they had the language skills to access service-based organisations. However, he also stated that expatriate students were also active in conducting projects locally, though far less often. “We have students who work in old age homes, they work with the fire brigade, animal shelters, soup kitchens, or giving out supplies for the needy”.

Despite some of the local CAS projects that students did, the international ones seemed to overshadow them, particularly as they received more institutional backing. On the school website, for example, ‘global-­ mindedness’ was explicitly attributed to projects that were internationally-­ oriented, such as World Challenge and the East Africa Project. Local projects were often excluded from both promotional literature and on-­ site fundraising activity. The bias towards prioritising experiences abroad was also visible in the focus placed on travel. Travel was deemed a major personal asset and educational experience. It was promoted as a major practice of ‘intercultural exchange’ necessary to educate students into ‘globally-minded, ‘international’ individuals. Therefore, the benefits of international travel were seen to outstrip by far any experiences school children could gain locally or within German society and culture—which remained, ironically, a foreign world to many of them.

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Some Concluding Remarks The ‘local’ plays a central role in the construction of the international school community’s global imaginary. In fact, the school system is reliant on constructing boundaries between its communities and host societies because they facilitate the exclusivity of the school system and the retention of its position in the educational marketplace. Like many ‘traditional’ international schools around the world located in non-English speaking countries, ISG framed its global orientation and (and thus, its ‘internationality’) through its provision of an English-­ medium education (e.g. Gardner-McTaggart 2018; Tanu 2018). What’s more is that the language and subsequent emphasis on the Anglophone world across the school helped shape the community as specifically not local. English and Anglophone cultures are regularly seen (and promoted) as globally relevant, and therefore an important feature of a global identity—both institutionally and individually. The global imaginary facilitates the perception of the social world in this manner. Like all social imaginaries, there are some striking contradictions in the global imaginary of international school communities. There is the perception that the Anglo-cultural bias that informs daily practices at school is an expression of ‘internationality’. At the same time, other cultural influences at school are monitored and regulated, especially the local one, as to ensure there is not an obvious majority. This is where the ‘global’ orientation becomes exclusionary. In many cases, the ‘local’ cultural influence creates the most sensitivity within international schools, as it is in continuous contention with the school—whatever the context may be. Students experienced these tensions within the ISG curriculum, whereby the school’s global orientation constructed boundaries which could significantly impact their acquisition of cultural and linguistic knowledge of their host society. Physical, social and mental boundaries were produced which furthered mobility within the international school system, but less so across them. German language instruction and other German-related cultural fieldtrips were often de-emphasised in light of granting more ‘international’ or ‘globally-oriented’ ones. Students regularly opted for CAS projects that could be conducted through the

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international school and on campus for a variety of reasons, which ultimately impacted physical, social and cognitive mobility across institutional borders. Moreover, due to the promotion of international travel and the cultural attractiveness of distant geographies as particularly important for accruing cultural capital (Bourdieu 1986) within the school, students seemed to exhibit preference for conducting a service project on another continent over one conducted locally, if given the opportunity. The global imaginary gives meaning to the social world. It creates boundaries that aid in organising and conceptualising how members perceive themselves and others. The ‘global’ and ‘local’ are very abstract and relational concepts, which can ultimately be shaped and contextualised in innumerable ways. This is one of the reasons why the global imaginary can thrive within the international school system (and beyond)—it is relevant and applicable anywhere. This helps explain why we see similar discourses and practices within international school communities located on entirely opposite sides of the world, and within drastically different environments. The next chapter explores the culture of international school communities that have been formed by the global imaginary.

References Allan, M. (2002). A Cultural No-Man’s Land? The Bilingual Family Newsletter, 19(3), 1–7. Allen, K. (2000). The international school and its community: think globally, interact locally. In M.  Hayden, J.  Thompson, & G.  Walker (Eds.), International Schools and International Education: Improving teaching, management and quality (pp. 124–142). London: Kogan Page. Bourdieu, P. (1986). The Forms of Capital. In J. G. Richardson (Ed.), Handbook of theory and research for the sociology of education (pp. 241–258). Westport: Greenwood Press. Bunnell, T. (2005). Perspectives on International Schools and the nature and extent of local community contact. Journal of Research in International Education., 4(1), 43–63.

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Bunnell, T., Fertig, M., & James, C. (2016). What is international about International Schools? An institutional legitimacy perspective. Oxford Review of Education., 42(4), 408–423. CAS. (2016). Creativity, Activity, Service. International Baccalaureate. [Online]. Retrieved September 2016, from http://www.ibo.org/programmes/diploma-­ programme/curriculum/creativity-­activity-­and-­service/. Fitzsimons, S. (2019). ‘Students’ (Inter)National Identities within International Schools: A Qualitative Study. Journal of Research in International Education., 18(3), 274–291. Gardner-McTaggart, A. (2018). The promise of advantage: Englishness in IB international schools. Perspectives: Policy and Practice in Higher Education., 22(4), 109–114. Hernes, T. (2004). The Spatial Construction of Organization. Amsterdam & Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Highlights. (2020). Company History. Highlights for Kids. [Online]. Retrieved June 2020, from https://www.highlights.com/about-­us/history. Kulundu, F., & Hayden, M. (2002). Creativity, Action, Service (CAS) Activities as Part of the International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme: A Case Study. Pastoral Care in Education: An International Journal of Personal, Social and Emotional Development, 20(1), 30–36. Lefebvre, H. (1991). The Production of Space. Oxford: Blackwells. Montgomery, R. (2018). A Phenomenological Narrative of Thai Graduates of International Schools in Thailand. PhD, Lamar University. Nowicka, M. (2012). Cosmopolitans, Spatial Mobility and the Alternative Geographies. International Review of Social Research, 2(3), 1–16. Ota, D. W. (2014). Safe Passage: How mobility affects people & what international schools should do about it. Great Britain: Summertime Publishing. Pollock, D., & Van Reken, R. (1999). The Third Culture Kid Experience: Growing up among Worlds. Yarmouth: Intercultural Press. Poor, P. (2005). School culture: The space between the bars; the silence between the notes. Journal of Research in International Education, 4(3), 351–361. Raymond, E. M., & Hall, C. M. (2008). The Development of Cross-Cultural (Mis)Understanding Through Volunteer Tourism. Journal of Sustainable Tourism, 16(5), 530–543. Selmer, J., & Lam, H. (2004). “Third Culture Kids”: Future business expatriates? Personnel Review, 33(4), 430–445.

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Tanu, D. (2014). Becoming ‘International’: The Cultural Reproduction of the Local Elite of an International School in Indonesia. Southeast Asia Research, 22(4), 579–596. Tanu, D. (2018). Growing up in Transit: The Politics of Belonging at an International School. New York and Oxford: Berghahn. Van Reken, R. E. (2014). Forward. In D.W. Ota (author), Safe Passage: How mobility affects people and what international schools should do about it. Summertime Publishing. World Challenge. (2020). World Challenge. [Online]. Retrieved July 2020, from https://weareworldchallenge.com/uk/. Zilber, E. (2004). Mobility in Metaphor: Colourful Descriptions of Third Culture Kids. International Schools Journal, 23(2), 17–21.

4 Mapping the Culture of International Schools

One of my first classroom observations at the International School of Germany (ISG) was conducted at the beginning of the academic year, at the discretion of a primary school teacher. He commented to me that “the [kids] like to hang on to stereotypes because it reminds them of home. I think that’s normal—you want to identify with something”. During the lunch break, I walked around the empty classroom, and noticed some posters produced by his students. I had seen a number of similar displays throughout the campus already—posters exhibiting symbols of national, cultural or linguistic identity. In this instance, students created A4-sized, colourful posters under the title, ‘What is important to you?’ As I looked closer, and following his remark, it was indeed a collage of conventional cultural and national references. Nearly every poster contained at least one national flag, coupled with a variety of stereotypical symbols associated with national cultures, such as food and sport. For example, a student from the United States produced a poster with an American flag, Boston Celtics and a hamburger; another’s, from Italy, contained images of the Italian flag, a pizza and the A.C. Milan emblem; and a student identifying himself as British included a picture of the Union Jack, a Manchester United emblem, and references to James Bond © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 H. A. Meyer, The Global Imaginary of International School Communities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-72744-4_4

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‘007’. Students who identified with more than one nationality (who, I later found out, were referred to as ‘Halfies’) organised their posters, literally, in halves: one side dedicated to the specific symbols of one nation, and the other to the additional nationality. When students returned from lunch, they were asked to bring their homework projects to the centre of the classroom. Students took a seat somewhere on the globe floor mat for a show-and-tell activity, explaining why they felt they were ‘unique’. The students appeared to understand the value of particular cultural attributes that would grant them status in this social environment. One student said, “I think I’m unique because I was born in Ireland but have an American accent”. Another student said, “I think I’m unique because I’m Indian”. German students however did not focus on their nationality in this exercise, unless they considered themselves to be ‘Halfies’, but rather generally referred to hobbies or material objects they enjoyed. For example, one said, “I think I’m unique because I like riding”, and other said, “I think I’m unique because I have a yacht”. This chapter is about the cultural practices that are guided by the global imaginary of international school communities. Nationalities mean a lot at international schools. As seen in Chap. 3, on an institutional level, the conglomeration of national representation creates the ‘mosaic of cultures’ the school brand promises, and helps to legitimise the school as different to those available locally. Nationality-based activities are therefore relatively common. In particular, the value that is placed on ‘expat’ nationalities has an impact on community cultural practices and the ways in which members begin to classify themselves and others. In fact, the teacher had told me the activity of students responding to the prompt ‘What makes you unique?’ was a deliberate attempt to steer students away from the culture of focusing on nationality as a form of identification. Yet we found that nearly all of his expat students resorted to nationality and the ensuing cultural stereotypes anyway. Therefore, on a personal level, the centrality of distant or expat nationalities at school helps build a sense of belonging and cultural ownership, even though in practice, this sense of belonging seemed to feature mostly in arguably static and superficial ways.

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Being an Expat Is a Form of Cultural Capital An expat nationality at an international school highlights three forms of cultural capital:1 first, cultural ownership to a distant culture; second, an indication of experiences living abroad; and third, English language proficiency, as it is seen as the tool to facilitate international mobility. These forms of cultural capital were highly valued in ISG’s visible and invisible cultures. They are complex systems—appearing at specific times, and benefitting certain groups over others. Tanu (2018) has raised similar issues in her ethnographic book Growing up in Transition: The Politics of Belonging, which explores life at an international school in Indonesia. Situated in a postcolonial setting in the Global South, the school presented a culture of creating hierarchies based on what Tanu (2018) describes as ‘(Western) cosmopolitan cultural capital’, which relates to the attainment of a Western education, the ability to demonstrate proficiency in the English language, and the characteristics of ‘whiteness’ associated with these features. She observed how students negotiated these forms of cultural capital to gain status both within and outside of school, as members of a ‘Transnational Elite Class’ and a ‘National Elite Class’. Her work highlights the complexities of international school life—both for host nationals and ‘internationally-­ mobile’ kids.  Sociologist Pierre Bourdieu’s work on ‘capitals’ is a very useful way in understanding how social imagination is formed and practiced. He argues that all social environments, or what he calls ‘fields’, (like an international school community) are power-laden and hierarchical, and that these structures of power are created through the negotiation of different forms of ‘capital’. Often the analogy used to explain this process is playing cards: people play different cards they are dealt according to the particular circumstance or situation in which they find themselves. People will play the cards which they feel will give them the most power in that moment, in that time, and in that field. The ‘cards’ that are played are what Bourdieu calls ‘forms of capital’ (Bourdieu 1986b) At international schools, the ‘card’ that is often played is linked to cultural capital. Bourdieu (1986b) argues that cultural capital can be seen in three different states: ‘objectified’ (e.g. artifacts, materials, passports), ‘embodied’ (e.g. language, tastes, manners) and ‘institutionalised’ (e.g. educational certifications). For example, demonstrating a global orientation through particular language abilities, or ‘expat’ status, or travel/residency abroad experiences—these forms of cultural capital help to validate community membership and/or a sense of belonging within groups. Knowing which card to play, at the right time, in the right place is understanding the ‘rules of the game’ (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992)—an internalised understanding of the field. This is the ‘habitus’, which is acquired over a lengthy period of time spent in that field. The habitus relates to attitudes, dispositions and values that help the individual understand what ‘cards’ to play at the right moment. 1

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Similar practices appeared within ISG—an international school located in a drastically different context. It was a predominantly white international school located in a white majority country in the Global North, however I find the communities from both studies participated in a similar culture of creating social hierarchies based on specific forms of cultural capital, as defined by the wider international school network’s global imaginary. Elements of this culture are also raised in other recent studies conducted at international schools located in other countries including Shanghai (Sander 2016); Malaysia (Bailey 2015, 2018); Serbia and Belgium (Fitzsimons 2019); Thailand (Montgomery 2018); Kuwait (Khalil 2019); and Nigeria (Emenike and Plowright 2017). This suggests that there are systemic issues in relation to school cultures across the international school system regardless of where the institution is located. I argue that the commonalities between schools are based on both inclusive and exclusionary practices associated with the symbols of community construction: the global and the local. Both Tanu’s (2014, 2018) work and mine recognise three forms of cultural capital that are similar between both contexts, which are negotiated to gain status in an international school community culture: an ‘expat’ status; experiences living abroad; and English speaking abilities. While the German context eliminates some of the additional layers that contribute to the complexities Tanu (2018) discusses of her fieldwork site in Indonesia, including the desire to attain a Western/European education and the postcolonial realities the host country presents, these core criteria are remarkably similar. There are some striking common features in cultural practices, which substantiate my argument that the international school system is interconnected and can be systemically reviewed, using the framework of Global Imaginary presented in this book.

Group-Making at ISG As international schools place value on their expat communities to create globally-oriented and intercultural learning experiences, they set the foundation for group-making based on these same characteristics. Nationalities were the ‘go to’ form of identification across ISG, and

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created social groups accordingly. I asked a group of high school expat students about social life at the school: Heather: So who are the popular kids? All: Americans. Phillip: There are a lot of cliques. Or gangs, well you can’t call it gangs. Heather: Is it really cliquey here? All: Yeah. Phillip: I don’t want to sound arrogant, I think you (indicating to the other students) could all agree, but I feel I can go through all groups. I don’t like to be with just one group. I like to move around a bit. There’s the American one, the British one, the German one, the second-degree German oneHeather: What’s the second-degree German one? Phillip: They’re the ones that need to be the machos. (All students laugh, and gesture to indicate agreement).

All students around the table unanimously agreed that ‘Americans’ were the popular ones and that the school had ‘cliques’, which were identifiable by nationalities. Phillip, specifically presented American, British and German groups in a way that suggested he perceived these groups to be exclusive by stressing their singularity: THE American one, THE British one, etc. These also were the largest student nationality groups at the school that year. Phillip’s reference to a ‘second-degree’ German group was yet another term used to rank the ‘Germans’ at the school—following labels like ‘international Germans’ and ‘German-Germans’, which had been used by Renate, a German parent on the ISG Board of Directors (see Chap. 3). The reaction of the group to Phillip’s ‘macho’ description of the ‘second-degree Germans’ was interesting because all the boys at the table understood (and found amusing) the underlying subtext of this. Everyone knew what Phillip was referring to, and even though they never told me what that was, it showed that German groups were on everyone’s radar. The presence of Germans was closely monitored at ISG, which was a systemic issue brought from the regulation and management of the ‘local’, as discussed in Chap. 3. The international school system creates (and is created by) this cultural practice of labelling according to

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nationalities and polarising its symbols of globality and locality. Brubaker (2002) summarises this process of group-making well, and is useful to understand some of the systemic issues surrounding inclusivity and exclusivity at international schools: “From above, we can focus on the ways in which categories are proposed, propagated, imposed, institutionalized, discursively articulated, organizationally entrenched and generally embedded in multifarious forms of ‘governmentality’…From below, we can study the ‘micropolitics’ of categories, the ways in which the categorized appropriate, internalize, subvert, evade or transform the categories that are imposed on them”. (Brubaker 2002, p. 170)

An example of this interplay at ISG were some posters in the elementary school entry way, displayed to welcome new families who had arrived halfway through the academic year in January. The posters had been mounted on the wall under the title, “New Elementary School Students: A Warm Welcome to Our Elementary School Families”. Each poster was a template, which included a picture of the new student and information according to the following categories: name, grade level, nationality, country from which they had just moved, and hobbies. Following Brubaker (2002), the emphasis on nationalities and international mobility highlights the ways in which particular categories are imposed ‘from above’. The criteria on the poster template for New Elementary School Students assumes there has been international mobility involved in a student’s background, which, for German students would not apply. These practices are small, but significant ways in which the cultural capital system at ISG were perpetuated. All new students were labelled, from the beginning, following the characteristics ISG valued. This is the starting point from which students began formulating and practicing their given identities at school. Labelling systems were visible across the ISG community, including during my classroom observations. I always made sure I had a free moment with the teacher—either before or after the lesson, which allowed me to get to know the teacher better. We discussed the lessons I had come to watch, and significantly, their experience as a teacher at an

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international school, and with the particular group of students I was observing. I found that teachers resorted to two primary ways of describing their students (unsolicited): either through nationality (e.g. ‘He is half-German, half-Italian’ or ‘She is Korean’), or through English language proficiency level (e.g. ‘He’s English A-Level’ or ‘Her English is very weak’). Students’ English and national identity were consistently the central forms of categorisation amongst the faculty I met. Students tended to follow this trend, not only using nationality and language proficiency levels to rank each other, but even used it to rank me. Students would ask me about my nationality, and after responding, ‘American’, they would often follow my answer by inquiring whether I could speak German. When I answered, ‘yes’, they would nearly always ask me why. Puzzled by this, I asked a teacher what she made of it. Her response was, “Most people are shocked if Americans can speak German”. The response may be linked to the fact that many teachers and adult figures with American accents at the school did not speak much of the local language. The trend of members referring to preconceived notions based on national and language abilities was conventionalised through popular practices throughout the school. These practices encouraged members not only to identify themselves in these ways, but also to use them for learning purposes within the classrooms (as seen by the ‘What is important to you?’ poster project described earlier). The significance of language in the formation of social groups was very visible in the school cafeteria. The ISG lunch hours were split between the three schools and the grade levels within these schools. Typically, students between two grades would have lunch during the same 30 minutes, then, would be called outside when a new group of students entered. This time of day gave me the opportunity to compare how students across grade levels interacted and socialised with each other. The space was not very big, so it also facilitated access to students. I observed where students chose to sit, and with whom, and how they engaged with others from their grade level and that above or below them. One noticeable feature about socialisation across all schools (elementary, middle and high school) was that student groups were often formed based on shared language. Also, during each rotation there was always the presence of a specifically German-speaking group.

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I discussed ISG’s social networks in an interview with Steve, a member of the ISG faculty, who told me: “There are always going to be cliques and I never try to force students to artificially be best friends with someone else. I mean, eventually you’re going to want to speak your own language. So the Swedish people hang out with the Swedish people and the Germans with the Germans and the Japanese with the Japanese. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. But I think in general, people—they’re very integrated with each other here”.

It is common in international school environments to hear stories of students, faculty and parents engaging with their cultural heritage through group-making. It allows them to find and practice that important sense of belonging to a place where a foreign status is valued, and it also validates and legitimises this identity to their peers. Steve’s testimony also confirms that despite the tendency to make groups according to language and cultural background, there was indeed a very fluid and dynamic nature to the social networks at ISG. Students did not solely interact with others holding the same passport or those who spoke the same ‘native’ language. According to Steve, the natural social environment in which students operated was quite multifaceted, dimensional and ever-­changing. These dynamics are also illustrated by Tanu (2018) who argues that these complexities relate also to English language abilities, whereby certain groups are ‘othered’ based on an inability or refusal to speak the school’s dominant language at all times. This dynamic occurred at ISG as well.

“There Are Just Cultural Differences” That being said, the institutional role in encouraging and affirming national and language-based identities at ISG was omnipresent. Like students, ISG’s parents—particularly mothers—relied on the school to create socialisation opportunities, and some of the most popular events were based on the presence of its internationally-mobile expat community, and on connecting people from similar backgrounds.

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ISG’s Parent Teacher Organisation was a significant, powerful group that had a lot of influence around the ISG community. It arranged such social activities for the adult community, and organised and delivered a number of fundraising initiatives for the school and charitable organisations. All families were charged a Parent Teacher Organisation (PTO) fee as a part of the school’s tuition. However, not all community members were active participants in PTO-related activities, which was entirely by choice. Similar sub-groups based on nationality or linguistic background seen with the students were also regularly created and reproduced by the PTO, with institutional backing. Regular nationality group coffee meetups and events like the ‘Dutch Walk and Lunch’ or the ‘British Group New Year Brunch’ were advertised not only through the PTO, but also on the official school calendars, newsletters and magazines. The rationale behind these PTO nationality groups was described to me by a PTO leader at ISG: “Each nationality plays an important role within an international community, and at [ISG]. So then we have new members coming say for instance, from the Netherlands. We put that person in touch with the nationality representative and they then organise coffee mornings, tours, exhibitions, galleries, so that provides a great network for them. Initially I think the concern is that moms are not speaking English at all, so then we try to also engage them with a nationality group so then that person can just feel welcomed so that she can learn either English or German and help with that transition”.

Nationality groups were seen as playing a significant role for individuals who were unable to speak English or German. They served to establish an instant social network for the new ISG member. Provided that the community was composed of a majority of ‘expatriate’ families, the PTO operated as the largest, most accessible pathway for incoming internationally-­mobile families to make friends quickly. The emphasis on nationality groups within the PTO also worked to reinforce nationality-­ based boundaries, and reaffirm the strong division between expatriates and host nationals. As was mentioned by the PTO President, nationality groups also organised outings, in their respective language. Therefore,

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like the physical boundaries experienced by students seen in Chap. 3, the cultural experiences of the host nation geared for their parents were also largely institutionally organised and facilitated by the PTO. I interviewed an American expat mother, Patricia, who was actively involved in the organisation. She had two children attending ISG, and had been a member of the PTO in her children’s former school in the U.S. prior to moving to Germany. She equated the success of her social life in Germany to her participation in the school’s PTO, and told me that she had sought leadership positions in the organisation as a means to build a social network in the community for herself. She also told me that she had originally attempted to create a social network with a women’s group for U.S. expatriates (outside of the school) located closer to where she lived, towards the beginning of her residency in Germany. However, she felt she had more ‘in common’ with the international school community, and wanted to meet other mothers who had children the same age as her own. She recognised ‘cultural differences’ at the school and spoke of them to me: “There are cultural differences. Americans understand PTO because it’s an important part of most [U.S.] public school systems, and I think for Germans, they just don’t understand what PTO is at all. I think for Germans you send your child to school, and there is no home-school connection, and there is no fundraising expectation, and just culturally, they don’t feel that a parent has a place interacting with the school community. Whereas I think for Americans it’s second-nature. I think you feel more of a responsibility to be involved in your child’s education”.

Patricia illustrated a sentiment I commonly encountered when speaking to PTO mothers. Due to the high presence of German nationals at ISG, PTO members were particularly sensitive to German contribution within their organisation, despite the fact that there may have been other nationality groups which also did not regularly participate. They attributed low German participation within the organisation to ‘cultural differences’ and alluded to a lack of interest among German parents in their children’s education.

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The ‘cultural differences’ perceived by many members of the PTO towards Germans was based on an interpretation of German parenting methods. Expats and participating PTO members believed that Germans took a passive stance towards their children’s schooling. However, Michael, a teacher at ISG argued otherwise: Heather: What are the parents like? I’ve heard that German parents aren’t really as involved as American parents. Michael: I would actually say the opposite. The German parents are much more involved. The American parents just let their teachers do their job. Heather: Oh really? Michael: The German parents are much more inquisitive: ‘What are you doing?’ ‘Why is my child doing this?’ Heather: That’s interesting because a lot of people were telling me that German parents, in terms of afterschool activities, at least, weren’t very involved. Michael: Yeah, because they have their own Vereins,2 and they’re more involved in the community. Whereas Americans, this is all they have”.

As a teacher, Michael had experienced the involvement of German parents in the community in an entirely contrasting way to that described to me by the PTO members. This suggests that the rationale for minimal PTO participation from German parents may not have been based on ‘cultural differences’ but on a sense of German alienation from the sentiments circulating the PTO. Moreover, evidence of ‘othering’ appears in the form of normalised practices as seen in the following interview excerpt from PTO member Fiona: Heather: So you mentioned you find that there are ‘cultural differences’ then, that kind of interfere with the running of the PTO.

 Vereine (plural, German). A ‘Verein’ (singular) is a society, club or association. The term, ‘Vereins’ came up often in conversations and interviews, and it was used frequently within the school’s vernacular. The ‘s’ added to the end of the German, ‘Verein’ was used to pluralise the word— following English grammar. Similar words unique to ISG, and perhaps even international schools located in the German speaking world, also appeared in conversations and interviews including: ‘Imbisses’, ‘Hausmeisters’, ‘Grundschules’, ‘Hefts’, ‘Fests’, and ‘Tennisplatzes’. 2

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Fiona: Well those cultures are very similar—Anglo-Saxon cultures—it’s like sitting at the dinner table with your family, you are all basically understanding the same way about going about your job or whatever it is that you are doing. Everyone is welcome to join the PTO. Heather: So the ones that go to the PTO meetings areFiona: Largely Anglo-Saxons… Heather: …do you have a German nationality group within the PTO? Fiona: Oh, that’s a really good question (pause) that’s a very, very good question. You know, now that I think about it (pause) actually now that you’re saying, I don’t remember seeing like a ‘German Coffee’ because you’ll go down the weekly newsletter and see that the Dutch are having a meeting and the Americans, and the Spanish—but no, I don’t remember ever seeing a German one. It would be great to have them because it might get them coming—more involved”.

The fact that German nationals did not seem to have a regularly active nationality group in the PTO, and the fact that she had not necessarily thought about its absence, indicates the ‘othering’ that appears sometimes in the form of normalised exclusionary practices. Fiona seemed actually very surprised once she realised that she had been unaware of a German nationality group in the PTO. I also discovered from a teacher connected to an ‘outside’ Japanese community, that many of ISG’s Chinese, South Korean, and Japanese members were very involved in respective nationality communities in the nearby city. Some sent their children to language schools on the weekend, and this may indicate why there was less visible participation from these families in the PTO community. PTO members tended to equate the lack of ‘Asian’ participation mostly to language barriers or ‘cultural differences’ and therefore treated it with more tolerance. Patricia told me: “Of course, you have the Asian population, many of them don’t feel confident enough even in their English language speaking skills, so they’re happy to, you know, make sushi for [community events] or whatever, but in terms of a leadership role or any sort of volunteer role that involves emailing or corresponding—there just are cultural differences”.

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However, teachers found that East Asian parents were very willing to collaborate—despite noting some substantial language barriers. One teacher told me she could always rely on ‘South Korean’ and ‘Chinese’ parents (both mothers and fathers) to volunteer to chaperone fieldtrips— even without strong English or German proficiency levels. This highlights some of the exclusionary practices happening around the international school community, based on specific assumptions and expectations linked to perceptions about nationalities. The PTO, which was the primary offering at ISG for adult socialisation opportunities within the community, tended to attract mostly ‘native’ English speakers from Western Anglophone countries. This is unsurprising, as it favoured particular forms of cultural capital (expat status, international mobility experience and English language proficiency). The lack of diversity within active PTO membership led to additional forms of symbolic violence3 including the tendency to label ‘Asians’ as one homogenous group. The PTO’s lack of representation from minority groups within the community seemed to impact perceptions of accessibility. Moreover, the subsequent limited participation of these groups in leadership positions also impacted the conceptual direction of the PTO as an institution, and of the events it organised.

Feste At ISG there were two significant annual PTO-orchestrated events that provide a snapshot of international school community-building culture and the underlying hierarchies that form the basis of how these events were articulated each year. The Feste4 were two seasonal ‘festivals’—one in  Symbolic violence refers to an arbitrary social practice which underscores the dominance of a particular group. Schubert’s (2008) explanation illustrates this in a manner which is particularly useful here: “[Symbolic violence] is everywhere in that we all live in symbolic systems that, in the process of classifying and categorizing impose hierarchies and ways of being and knowing the world that unevenly distribute suffering and limit even the ways in which we can imagine the possibility of an alternative world. It is also nowhere because, in its gentleness and its subtleness, we fail to recognize its very existence, let alone the way it is at the root of much violence and suffering” (2008, pp. 195–196). 4  Fest (for singular use). Feste (for plural use). 3

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December and one in May. They both took on similar characteristics and were comparable in size and number of participants. These Feste were the largest and most visible community events taking place on campus each year—attracting the highest number of students, parents and alumni at once. I look at these two festivals in particular, as they are useful to illustrate how socialisation occurred during large events involving the entire community. They highlight the emphasis placed on nationalities as primary identity markers, and the role performances of nationality played in the construction of an ‘international’ community. Moreover, these Feste also show the extent to which certain nationality groups held a higher form of cultural capital than others, and the ways in which members negotiated them to socially position themselves as community members. The Feste best demonstrate how the global imaginary comes to life through community practices. The primary objective of the Feste each year was to raise money for various projects and facilities at the school. This was done through the provision of games and fund-raising activities which attracted participation and interest among attendees. Proceeds were allocated to support projects to improve the school, such as sports and IT equipment; books for the library; or materials to aesthetically enhance the school. For instance, one year, money was allocated for flat screen TVs for the middle school entryway. And another year proceeds went towards playground equipment for the elementary school. The PTO operated under a Board comprising the organisation’s President, Vice President and Secretary, who appointed individual Event Coordinators who led particular activities seen at the Feste, such as games, food, and other forms of entertainment. These events were popular among parents and primarily younger children (generally from Kindergarten through 8th grade). High school students participated mostly through ‘service’ projects, such as running charity stands for the accumulation of Creativity, Activity, Service (CAS) points,5 and participating in football tournaments against the ISG alumni, and relay races against alumni, parents and staff.  For more on CAS, see Chap. 3.

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Both the spring and winter Feste were thematically influenced by already existing regional festivals, customs and traditions. The spring Fest, for example, mirrored local German ones taking place also in May and displaying traditions seen elsewhere across the region. These included the presence of a traditional ‘beer tent’, with long benches and a brass band. Community members were encouraged to dress up in regional costumes—Dirndl and Lederhosen—even though I found that the majority of them did not. The spring Fest tradition at ISG had taken place each year on campus since the 1970s, and I remember it being advertised within the community when I attended in the 1990s. At the time, I had found the spring Fest unappealing—I actually never went—because of my age (as a high schooler, it was not very cool at that time to attend), and also because the ‘real’ ones were available to me in my village and the city nearby. In the initial months of my fieldwork, I attended my first ISG spring Fest. The campus had been transformed—colourful laminated flower signs emulating ‘spring’ filled the school entrance pathway directing attendees to different events. In the school gymnasium, there was a bouncy castle, pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey and similar games, face-­ painting, and arts and crafts for children. Here, parents could drop their young children off in an area supervised by PTO volunteers. For slightly older students, there was a talent show that was several hours long throughout the day, where they could perform and/or watch their friends perform. Outside on the lawns, the symbols associated with the regional spring festivals were prevalent: beer benches had been decorated with tablecloths in regional colours, wildflowers in steins for centre pieces, and walls and school pillars of the cafeteria had been decorated with gift wrap used as wallpaper in the regional flag’s colours. However, these regionally specific thematic decorations were strongly overpowered by additional imagery which illustrated the diverse nationalities of the community. Here, the school brand shone through via ‘internationalisation’ efforts. Photos of the event were later published online and in the school magazine to highlight the school’s many nationalities in representation, and by extension, its exclusive position in the host region as ‘international’. An example of this is the ‘international food hall’ that was annually set up in the cafeteria, and repeatedly

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portrayed as the highlight of the Feste. Its production involved the participation of the different PTO nationality groups. The international food hall was featured as the main gathering point of the spring Fest. It offered a number of food stands which were decorated with ‘expat’ national flags and symbols. ‘Internationalising’ the Feste largely involved building the various nationality tables in the international food hall. It was mostly PTO members who would volunteer to ‘represent’ their nationalities and sell their nationality dishes to fellow community members. People would walk around with their plates and select the food they would like to purchase from each nationality stand. Following this, most headed over to the ‘beer tent’ where everyone could sit together and enjoy their ‘international’ food plate. At that time, I interviewed Ana, a Brazilian national, who had become an active PTO member immediately after arriving with her family half-­ way through the academic year. She described her Brazilian nationality booth at that year’s spring Fest in this way: “We’re a very tiny [Brazilian] community here. One of the Brazilian ladies just told me, ‘hey I would love to run the Brazilian table, let’s do it!’ and it was very sweet, so each of us contributed towards that table. So she ran the Brazilian table and I was very proud in a way, and it was very sweet that she wanted to present Brazil”.

Ana’s Brazilian table was decorated with a yellow tablecloth and a set of large poster boards which were mounted on large screen dividers that had been set up behind the nationality representatives running the booth. The poster boards were decorated with an array of green and yellow Brazilian flags and pictures of the Rio Carnival, Cristo Redentor, Ipanema Beach and Iguazu Falls. Brazilian flags were also strung around the pillars behind the booth to augment the space even further. Brazilian cuisine was also of course available. The notion of individuals ‘presenting’ a nation was a common way of perceiving the purpose of activities in the food hall. ‘Presentations’ spanned from an array of nations. The organisation of the nationality groups at the Feste was indicative of how certain nationalities were conceptualised at the school. For example,

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Spanish-speaking countries were regularly grouped together as the ‘Spanish-speaking group’, while other similarly positioned linguistic groups like UK, Ireland, Australia and USA were not pooled together in the same way as an ‘English-speaking group’. ISG published allusions to these perspectives in official literature (including its website), which documented their legitimacy as institutionally recognised in this way. The ‘Spanish Speaking Group’ was also referred to a number of times by my PTO interviewees as a means through which Mexican, Argentinian, Spanish and Peruvian members were categorised within the community, and ultimately how they categorised themselves. Therefore, while members ‘performed’ their nationalities, they also showcased their countries according to how they, and more significantly, how more dominant players perceived and/or expected them to be. The spatial arrangements of the international food halls of the Feste reflected the Western, Anglo-centred perspective of ‘internationality’. Anglophone, Western nations (USA, Great Britain, Australia) and European countries were regularly presented in the main thoroughfares of the food hall. The ‘Spanish speaking’ countries were often featured together through language as a group. These tables connected to each other and formed a pathway through which participants could go along with their plates. The central ‘hub’ of the space therefore regularly featured these specific nationality formations. Each time I attended an ISG Fest during my field work, non-European nationality groups were in the corners in the back of the space, or off to the side—in some cases around the corner from the central activity of the event. ‘Asians’ were consistently grouped together, and countries from Africa were not typically represented (though this is likely because the community did not have many families from this region of the world). While their counterparts in the main gangways of the cafeteria did not opt to dress in traditional national costumes while serving their respective cuisine (i.e. Ana did not ‘present’ Brazil through dress), those volunteering in the ‘Asian’ section of the food court tended to dress in elaborate costumes. The stands also sported traditional artefacts and national symbols and flags. ISG’s ‘Asian’ community was consistently presented in an exoticised, orientalist way, and was often marginalised from the rest of the community. As a member of the ISG staff once commented to me:

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“People think it’s nice to see the Asian children parade in their costumes”. ‘Asians’ at ISG were at times racialised as an essential expat group to highlight the diversity of the predominantly white community. While Europeans and North Americans at ISG were classified according to individual nation states, individuals who identified themselves as nationals of Asian countries and ‘Spanish-speaking’ countries tended to be lumped together as one large regional group or language group. As definite minority nationality groups in the school, they were often classified according to the European/Anglo Western perspective of ‘the Other’. The following Western-centric labels were common: ‘Asians’, ‘Dutch’, ‘Swedes’, ‘Germans’, ‘French’, ‘Americans’, ‘Canadians’, and ‘Spanish-­ speakers’—sometimes even appearing like this in community newsletters. The ‘German’ table, which was annually organised by a group of German mothers, represented an exception to the conventions expressed in the international food halls of the Feste. Unlike other nationality groups, it did not display any national symbols like flags, colours and banners, but instead was set up solely as a generic coffee and cake stand. The first time I attended the Feste during my fieldwork, I walked around the cafeteria several times searching for a ‘German’ table, before realising that it was the unmarked coffee, tea and cake stand. The German table was described to me by Ana: “You know, people have the option if they want to participate or not, so not everybody wants to volunteer baking or cooking and being available that day…As a tradition, the German group always wants to serve teas, coffees and cakes. They were the table right next to the Brazilian table…So basically we all donate cakes and brownies and effectively they run the coffee and tea”.

Ana, like other actively involved PTO members, was referring to the lack of German participation in PTO events and activities. The PTO largely comprised expatriates, including all of its leaders and most volunteers. Germans did not hold any positions of leadership within the organisation. Ana’s statement supports this degree of inactivity from German nationals at the school, and she seemed to be slightly agitated by this lack

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of participation. While German mothers agreed to serve teas, coffees and cakes, the PTO was, in turn, annually responsible for finding volunteers to bake the goods that the German members would serve—breaking the customary procedure of each table providing their own food. Ana’s comment mirrors other statements I received in interviews and conversations with actively involved (expat) PTO members, including the following statement by Fiona: Fiona: It would be really nice to have some local German help because they can speak the language and can facilitate some of the things so much more easily. We’ll be like, decorating for the [winter Fest] and thinking, ‘Where do we get the linens?’, ‘Where do I get skewers?’ I don’t know what the word for that is [in German]. Heather: So Germans don’t participate? Fiona: No. Not at all. I would say there are one, two, THREE that I can see all the time. But interestingly they have all had expat experiences in English speaking countries, so I think that influenced them heavily. Otherwise not a peep. But yeah, that’s pretty frustrating because then it just becomes the same expat group—like a little subculture.

During our conversation, I got the sense that Fiona was trying to figure out why German members of the community were practicing subgroups on their own. For Fiona, only the German subgroup was problematic. She also referred to the ISG German group as ‘local German’—connecting them with locality, which some German members at ISG strongly opposed. The spring Fest offered another opportunity for members to reaffirm their membership in an international community by partaking in activities which called for performances and representations of nationality. While the event was regularly promoted as a community effort to highlight the ‘diversity’ of the school, there were nonetheless power structures based on nationality and language evident in the organising body (PTO) and in the rest of the community. The cultural capital equated with not only ‘expatriate’ status, but also particular nationalities—especially American. The way in which community members spoke of other nationality groups, was reflected in the production of the space each year.

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American Cultural Capital Sam: I actually didn’t want to move here. I had a pretty cool high school [in the U.S.] Heather: Is there something particular you miss about it? Sam: I dunno, just that—(pause) everyone there is American.

Americans, like Sam, generally seemed to hold a high status at ISG. Within this culturally diverse focus group, Sam had been deemed as one of the most ‘popular kids’ by his peers. In this exchange, he felt it was socially acceptable to make such a statement—even in a group in which Americans were a minority by far. This level of confidence, in part, stemmed from being ‘American’ at ISG. ‘Americanness’ was largely claimed by holding a U.S. passport, having an American accent, displaying a certain knowledge of U.S. popular culture, and/or having spent time living in the United States. American slang, music, food, movies, TV shows and fashion brands were often used, displayed or referred to by students, parents and staff. When observing a classroom in the ISG elementary school for example, young students repeatedly used American slang words like ‘epic’, ‘awesome’, ‘kickass’ and ‘sick’ to express excitement for something. This was revealed even more when students were presenting in a more public format—during show and tell activities and speaking to groups of students at once. The outward display of these traits not only illuminated the American influence, but also at times demonstrated a student’s level of fluency in English, which, like many international schools around the world, worked as a form of cultural capital within the international school community (e.g. Tanu 2014, 2018). During my observations, American products and practices regularly resurfaced as desirable. The ‘popular’ kids, for example, were nearly always marked as those who were able to demonstrate an affinity to, knowledge of, or a skill equated to ‘American’ culture. These dispositions and skills were a form of cultural capital at ISG. Brands also played a role here. In particular, there was a continuous emphasis on the ‘all American’ brand, ‘Abercrombie and Fitch’—something I had also experienced as a student at ISG. One ISG mother spoke (unsolicited) about this with me saying

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“Clothes, clothes, clothes! My kids wear unbranded clothes. But oh do they always ask for ‘Abercrombie and Fitch’!” Similar to the popularity of kids with ‘American’ cultural traits, those elected for leadership positions in the PTO tended to be Americans. One reason for this is because the concept of PTO is American, and therefore materialised at ISG over the years based on PTO models seen in American schools. ISG’s PTO adopted a series of fundraising ideas from the U.S., for example, the tradition of ‘Basket Bonanzas6’ seen at the Feste each year, and bake sales offering ‘American’ baked goods throughout the year. The PTO gave most of its activities a distinct ‘American’ flavour. This also goes along with the traditional approach to the annual ISG spring Fest. In the early 1970s, the U.S. ‘Boy Scouts of America’ group at ISG started the tradition of being in charge of serving hamburgers at the Feste—one that still carried on four decades later. The U.S. table at the spring Fest events I attended was run by this group, as also per tradition. It featured two large American flags, an American stars and stripes tablecloth and a large sign that said, ‘U.S. Boy Scouts’. While selling American food, the table was also dedicated to signing students up for Girl Scouts and Boy Scouts. All students were welcome to join—regardless of nationality. During one of the years I was doing fieldwork, PTO members decided to incorporate a theme to the spring Fest for the very first time in ISG history. They chose an American West cowboy theme, and temporarily re-branded the event—naming it ‘Spring West’ (instead of the traditional, similar sounding Fest). The overlay of an American theme on an already-existing local festival tradition was met with some disapproval— particularly from German members of the community, who felt the theme was too controversial. The tendency to de-emphasise the local seemed to relay the message that local traditions, like the Feste, were not enough to carry an international school cultural event on their own. What’s more, is that the decision to incorporate this theme suggested that American culture was more attractive to the community than German culture. During this period, I also discovered that there had been some ­ongoing discussions on the ‘Americanness’ of the school between parents, teachers  A Basket Bonanza is a raffle, popular in the United States for school fundraising.

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and administrators. Lena, a German member of staff at the school told me that ISG had made a decision in the months prior to try and minimize the American influence that was seen to be taking form too strongly across the school. It is unclear whether this decision was connected to the American cowboy theme of that year’s ‘Spring West’, however it is plausible that the decision to overtly Americanise the school’s annual spring Fest that year exacerbated an already conflictual atmosphere between the school and its community of Germans members. Ana told me about it in our interview: Ana: And this year was different. We had a theme…we went for (laughs) a West theme so we called it actually ‘Spring West’…to which [the Germans] weren’t quite sure about. ‘Spring West’ they thought, ‘It’s not making sense!’ and I can understand (laughs). Heather: So members from the PTO from Germany? They kind of were against, or kind of sceptical of it all? Ana: They weren’t sure because we just wanted to make it different. ‘Hey let’s make a theme and call it Spring West!’

Ana’s explanation for the minority of German PTO members’ dissatisfaction with the American West cowboy theme was based on logic (“it’s not making sense”) and fear of change (“they weren’t sure because we just wanted to make it different”). What seems to be more likely, though less spoken about, is that the school was taking a regional, German tradition of the spring festival and ‘internationalising’ it, this time with an American theme—which struck the German nationality group the hardest. Ana’s view that ‘Germans’ were averse to ‘change’ was the popular narrative within the invisible culture at the school, and was conveyed to me in a series of interviews and conversations including an interview with Gary, a school leader, who told me: “It’s a very good school, but moving things in this environment— CHANGE is very difficult. (…) It’s very difficult to move this school…in terms of risk, in terms of culture, these types of things, you know if you

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really want to do something, you have an idea, broadly speaking, you develop it a bit, and you get to the point where you can take the risk and give it a shot, and you say, ‘okay good to go! We can figure it out!’ Not here. And certainly NOT in Germany.”

Like other community members, Gary attributed ‘German culture’ to the lack of change occurring at the school. He explained that German bureaucracy had prevented them from actualising the changes that he had wanted to make. Citing ‘cultural differences’ as an explanation for problems, was a common rhetoric within the ISG community—pitting the ‘progressive international’ against the ’narrow-minded’ local. While some German members of the PTO opposed the American West theme, the decision to override their concerns was based on the claim that the chosen theme would improve the ‘diversity’ and the attractiveness of the event for promotional purposes: “In past years there hadn’t been a theme. [The PTO President] really felt that it would help with the decorations, and the diversity and just putting a new twist on it. Because it’s an annual event, and because it’s maybe more appealing to [elementary school] students, each year they’re sort of always looking for a new twist to make it fresh again and more attractive, especially for the older kids, so that was her suggestion, and I think it worked out really well”. (Patricia)

Patricia’s stance on the issue reinforces the idea that German cultural traditions did not offer a successful ‘diversity’ appeal, particularly to ‘older kids’—a group which was consistently deficient in number each year. Minimal attendance from these students was also likely due to the juvenile games and attractions designed for young children while parents could congregate and socialise with other adults. During each event, older students participated mostly upstairs in the ‘Charity Zone’—either to run a booth, or visit the booths of their friends. The consensus within the PTO, as argued by both Ana and Patricia, was that the spring festival tradition as a stand-alone custom did not attract sufficient interest. Both participants felt that the ‘Spring West’ theme was highly successful in terms of participation and financial profit.

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In fact, the following year, the PTO introduced another theme to boost profits again, this time adopting a Brazilian theme as the ‘overlay’ to the spring Fest in light of the 2014 FIFA World Cup. This spring Fest featured a Capoeira show of Brazilian dancers and music, and a salsa band named ‘Salsa Roja’ for entertainment in the traditional ‘beer tent’. Despite salsa music not necessarily being ‘intrinsically Brazilian’—as pointed out by one event participant—it was nonetheless chosen to simulate a culturally ‘diverse’ space through the presentation of distant cultures. What’s more is that I did not hear any backlash within the community about this Brazilian World Cup theme—the response seemed to be very positive. This is likely because the World Cup was an ‘international’ event in itself, and therefore matched the ‘international’ brand of the school. Conversely, the ‘Spring West’ American cowboy theme had quite clearly touched a nerve the year prior. These were the only two years where an additional theme had been added to the German tradition of the spring festival at ISG. This ‘Spring West’ integrated American West imagery and decor to the traditional decorations used in previous years. ‘WANTED’ posters were scattered across the campus, in search of staff members ‘wanted’ for the cowboy-themed ‘Sponge-the-Teacher’ platform. A trio band replaced the traditional brass band in the ‘beer tent’, and instead performed country western style music. Many community members had dressed up for this event (unlike the other Feste I attended)—wearing American cowboy hats and boots, bandanas and jeans. All doors within the main building and other buildings were covered with placards depicting red barn doors with white trim—a common feature found on barns located in the countryside of New England and the mid-western states of the U.S. While they are not commonly associated with the American West cowboy motif in general, they worked as familiar symbols of ‘America’. Much like the presence of a salsa band during the Brazilian FIFA World Cup-themed spring Fest in the following year, the symbols like the red barn doors are not present in Germany, and therefore constructed an environment which was specifically uplifted and detached from the ‘local’. The abundance of ‘American’ culture at ISG also worked simultaneously to re-bond the community through a dominant, distant and non-­local ‘culture’—as exemplified at the ‘Spring West’. For example, Elisabeth, a

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German member of staff at the school argued that she was able to ‘understand’ the ISG school culture because she had previously lived in various U.S. states. The fact that she saw the school culture as similar to that of the U.S. indicated the strong normative influence of U.S. culture at ISG.  Where Elisabeth did not mention her German heritage and upbringing as contributing to her understanding of the school community, her time in the U.S. did. So, German community members also accepted that German cultural traits, skills and knowledge were largely irrelevant in achieving ‘community’ within this institution. American themes were also very visible at the annual winter Feste. The primary objective of the winter event was to emulate the aesthetic flavour of local Christmas customs on the school campus as a means to raise money for the school. Similar to the spring Fest, the event took place around five key areas of the campus: the cafeteria (for the international food hall), the auditorium (for high school students to set up their booths for their respective CAS projects), the concert hall (for the school bands and choral groups to perform throughout the day), a classroom for the ‘Santa’s Grotto’, and an area for a ‘German Christmas market’. The presence of a ‘Santa’s Grotto’ is an example in which particularly ‘American’ cultural traditions became normalised at the school. A ‘Santa’s Grotto’ is an American tradition in which parents bring their children to sit on Santa Clause’s lap to wish for a Christmas toy. It is typically an opportunity to have a Christmas picture taken of the children with Santa Clause. This long-standing tradition at the school was organised annually by the PTO. While the PTO Board changed nearly entirely in representation each year, it remained as a tradition, among other American Christmas customs, at each winter Fest. Advertising for ‘Santa’s Grotto’ on the school website, shows how American culture was framed as a separate, unique entity to the international flair of the event. Santa Clause, reindeer headbands, ‘Santa’s Grotto’, ‘Santa’s Secret Workshop’, an American grocery store in the school’s Christmas market, a choral recital with students wearing Santa hats, and the sale of BBQ burgers were attractions that were separately advertised as central features of the event—all based on American cultural Christmas traditions. The experience of such community events would be different, depending on the extent to which members had been previously exposed

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(or become accustomed) to Western, Anglophone or American cultures. American students entered the institution with a cultural background that matched the dominant practices presented at the school. Those from other backgrounds were placed in a position of struggle for higher cultural capital and were made to adapt to the collective culture of the school. For example, the international food court at one of the winter Fest events contained on its walls a variety of posters which had been produced by some of the ISG elementary school kids under the title, ‘What Christmas means in your Country’. Renderings produced by students depicted remarkably uniform illustrations of snow-covered Christmas trees, Santa Clause, wrapped gifts, candy canes, reindeer, and stockings hanging over fireplaces—all connoting typically Anglo-cultural associations with Christmas. Representations included how Christmas is celebrated in India, Japan, Turkey, the U.S., Switzerland and Germany, among others. While there was a small possibility that all students participating in this project actually celebrated Christmas at home, it seemed more likely that the students were adapting their artwork to dominant notions of the Fest projected by their environment. The staging of Christmas traditions at the winter Fest widely perceived to be ‘American’ indicated an undercurrent of cultural authority that had become normalised and framed as a globally-oriented practice to which the school and its members habitually subscribed.

American Consumption Patterns Many other attractions available at the Feste based on the assumption that most community members would find them appealing or valuable. This is significant because such assumptions can become expressions of symbolic violence. By looking closely at how goods are exchanged and presented as unique and exceptional (Maher et al. 2016), we can begin to understand what is valued within the school (and what is not). ISG’s PTO organised events in which specifically American cultural norms were portrayed over others consequently imposed a frame in which the rest of the community was encouraged to stand. U.S. cultural themes and consumption patterns were positioned to unite the community and

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uphold the ‘international’ flair of the school. Various American products were available during these events and were advertised each year as ‘special’ features of the Feste. The American BBQ for example included American-brand goods such as hamburger buns, mustard, relish and cheese—items which involve going to specialty stores or even the American Army BX/PX, which are commissaries for army and air-force personnel stationed in Germany. Other items acquired from the army base that were sold at the events included ‘Nerds’, ‘Bubblicious Gum’, Girl Scout cookies, ‘Baby Ruth’ candy bars, and ‘Mountain Dew’. The assumption being that these were special treats for the entire community because they are challenging to find locally. The Basket Bonanzas featured at both Feste illuminate these assumptions as well. Basket Bonanzas are raffles conventionally run by the Parent Teacher Organisations of American schools. It is a fund-raising activity in which a number of baskets full of products are displayed and ultimately bid on by community members for a set price. The baskets displayed at each ISG event consistently were marked for an assumed ‘American’ taste—offering American candy, baking goods and appliances, and beauty products unavailable (or difficult to find) in Germany. Other baskets included a trip to Spain, spa treatments, skin care products, FUJI cameras, eyelash extension vouchers, and various Apple products (iPods, iPhones, etc.). The baskets therefore signposted the “culturally valued taste and consumption patterns” (Webb et  al. 2002, p.  22) within the wider community, which showed the desirability of American products and up-market consumer goods. ISG’s PTO reinforced the value embedded in American consumer goods by selling them as attractive, valuable products in the raffle. It showed a degree of conformity towards up-market consumer culture and the economic and symbolic value it represented. Exchanges like this are politically and socially charged, and significantly, produce systems of value (Appadurai 1994). Each year, a week before the event, the Basket Bonanzas were advertised within school literature, in daily announcements in homerooms, and during after school activities to sell tickets to students, staff and parents. They were set up a week in advance in the school cafeteria, on display, monitored by a member of the PTO. The fact that participation was institutionally encouraged, and that the drawing

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was conducted by the Head of School on the day of the event, underscores the value of the event within the community. The expression of desire (i.e. to show interest and buy a raffle ticket) also contributed to the reproduction of the social space as one that valued and appreciated specific cultural commodities over others. It is, to a certain degree, an exclusionary practice in both cultural and economic terms, even if it is not intended to be this way. After a while, I realised that these practices were also visible within events organised by other extracurricular areas and departments at ISG, in particular, its Athletic and Arts Departments. The ISG Imbiss7 (Kiosk), for example, was on offer during sporting or arts events taking place on the school campus during after-school hours. The Imbiss was run by mostly American members of the community who volunteered for the role—once again showing the American presence in leadership positions in extracurricular community functions. The Imbiss sold various food products for students and parents, and also for visiting students from other international schools. Particularly during sporting events, the Imbiss was immensely popular, as the campus was physically isolated and students could not walk elsewhere to get food during tournaments. In a way, the Imbiss held a monopoly on the consumption of food during these events. Aside from the usual offerings seen in international school sporting events (hamburgers, hot dogs, etc.), American baked goods were also on sale. I learned from the Imbiss coordinators that the baked goods were typically brought into the school by community volunteers, from varying national backgrounds. Volunteers nonetheless chose to bake a product associated with ‘American’ taste, such as brownies, cupcakes, cookies and peanut butter crepes. Students often travelled far distances from other countries to compete in sporting or arts competitions taking place on the international school campus, but were not given the opportunity to access local or international foods. Instead, U.S. products dominated consumption choices. One of the only options that was not culturally specific to American  ISG community members used the German word when referring to their snack bar (German: Imbiss). Much of the time, the Imbiss at ISG served edibles provided by the community, and were often influenced by very specific U.S./European consumption preferences. 7

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tastes available at the Imbiss during an International Schools Sports Tournament (ISST) track and field event I observed was a small fruit basket with a handful of bananas.8 Provided that there were approximately 350–400 people at the event, the Imbiss, as the only available food station for miles, was extremely busy. I offered to volunteer, after seeing how short-handed the parent volunteers were—at which point one of the mothers yelled to me “Quick! I need you to make some quesadillas and grilled cheese sandwiches! We’re slammed!”9 I didn’t receive any further instruction, but it was expected that I knew what these items were, and how to make them. Importantly, students found these items immensely popular. The queue for the Imbiss wrapped around the outdoor tent, and students stood patiently in line to await their snacks. I did not have anyone ask me, during my few hours of volunteering, for a healthier or otherwise different option. The cultural capital that was of particular value in the community was based on what is perceived as ‘Anglo-cultural’ tastes, traits and skills. It is with these perceptions that social hierarchies were created and facilitated by the school, and the wider international school community. The process advantages particular cultural and linguistic backgrounds over others. We see here again how closely these practices link to the school’s market demand.

 ifferent ‘Rules of the Game’: Host Nationals D and the Negotiation of Economic Capital One of the most fascinating elements of conducting ethnographic research in schools is that there are two modes of student behaviour occurring throughout the school day. One is an institutionalised mode of behaviour: the way in which students conducted themselves in the classroom and in other institutional events, such as assemblies, etc. They  For more on ISST, see Chap. 5.  Quesadillas were made with American-brand flour tortillas and ‘Kraft’ brand American cheese packets. American, ‘Tex-Mex’-style quesadillas are cooked in the same fashion as a ‘grilled cheese’ sandwich. 8 9

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understood that they must speak in English, use a particular register, and display the behavioural standards set by the instructor and the wider educational institution. The other mode is one that is witnessed outside of the classroom: in the hallways, on the playground, and in the cafeteria. Students addressed each other and expressed themselves differently, categorised each other according to their terms, and behaved differently. These are spaces in which students made choices which are less regulated than in the classroom. Because of this, I made a marked effort to be both in classrooms and in hallways—where students convened by their lockers during their breaks and chatted. Social groups and friendship circles were quite easily identifiable in these cases, and as an ‘outsider’ who was not in a position to discipline them, students did not seem affected by my presence. The difference between these two modes of behaviour is of course not unique to international schools, but the cultural practices that take place within these spaces does differ between contexts. During such hallway interactions, I found that I was able to spot the German groups relatively quickly. This was because of the prominent use of German in these social spaces. The marked display of wealth including luxury brands in clothing, bags and eyewear were particularly evident among the German students, though they were not necessarily the only ones displaying wealth in this way. This was a characteristic by which they had gained a reputation amongst their peers. This came out in the following focus group interview, with a set of non-German, expat high schoolers. These students equated the ostensible ‘German’ taste in fashion, with arrogance: Nico: They smoke a lot. Oliver: When we go out they’re always like, a bit cocky. Like, they copy. Matt: They’re just cocky—too arrogant. Heather: The German kids your age? Nico: Yeah, and their fashion sense. White pants? Oliver: Hey! You’re describing what I’m wearing! (All students laugh) Nico: No, not you! I’m talking about the, (pause) like, the SWAG. Matt: Like hats with a sticker.

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In this conversation, there was a sense of cultural authority or ownership going on—as Oliver pointed out, he felt that ‘Germans’ ‘copy’ other cultures. The group then went on to explain to me that it was the sense of attitude and style—the ‘swag10’—that they found problematic. The hat with the sticker is a reference to expensive hip-hop clothing they felt ‘Germans’ were ‘copying’ from an urban cultural/lifestyle movement in the United States. Callier (2016) argues that this form of style is in fact, a part of a ‘global youth culture’, and is adopted and re-interpreted by individuals to express machismo. The students’ earlier reference to ‘second-­ degree Germans’ being ‘machos’ also runs in line with this reference. This exchange highlighted that wearing ‘white pants’ as an expat was deemed acceptable, but less so when worn by ‘Germans’. Conversations about German community members (i.e. ISG’s clientele of German students and parents) usually resulted in deprecating comments relating to fashion and dress. I never encountered similar statements directed towards any other nationality groups at the school. The phrase ‘rich Germans’ came up repeatedly in conversations with expats: students, teachers and staff. This particular nationality group as a whole was regularly associated with wealth, in a negative way, across the community. Tanu (2018) also observes host nationals at her Indonesian international school overtly displaying wealth. Her observations were strikingly similar to my experience in the early 2010s, despite the obvious geographical distance between the two sites—including the use of the term, ‘filthy rich’ as specifically reserved to describe host nationals. The cultivation of these sentiments in ISG’s community can be linked to the type of membership status Germans held in comparison to many of the expats. Germans were mostly Selbstzahler (paying out of pocket) while many of ISG’s expats received some form of assistance from their sponsors.11 German parents therefore were able to provide the school with a stable, long-term financial commitment for their children’s  ‘Swag’ refers to an American hip-hop style through which a specific “attitude and behaviour [is] used by men to project a sense of masculinity, identity and style” (Callier 2016, p. 175). 11   Sponsors included multinational companies, embassies and consulates, the U.S. army, international organisations, or the school itself when sponsoring the children of staff, or providing scholarships. 10

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e­ ducation at ISG. Germans at ISG were very wealthy, affluent members of the local elite that could afford the high tuition fees every year. Germans therefore came into the community with a high level of economic capital, and accordingly followed slightly different ‘rules of the game’ (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992). This difference created alienation and sometimes even contempt directed against this social group. The German community’s economic privilege, and the perception that they were deliberately displaying their wealth, was linked to a lack of conforming to particular cultural practices as the school, and caused a degree of conflict with expatriates. The access to economic capital by German members of the ISG community reinforced their outsider status; and they were marginalised by the dominant expatriate group through the hierarchical system based on a cultural capital that was inherent to the ‘expat’ status. Caroline, an American ISG school counsellor who had worked at the institution for nearly two decades, told me that these demonstrations were often perceived as problematic by others: “Well I think for students there still is this gap between that certain group of affluent Germans, you know, the really really wealthy ones…I think it’s having to feel like a part of the [international school] culture…and I also think there’s an economic thing that says, ‘We’re a small group’, and it spews out, and ‘We are who we are, look at us’. You know? It’s especially evident in individuals whose parents are the ones who are famous”.

‘The Germans’ stood out to expatriate community members through their open use of German that nearly everyone in the community could at least identify (making them a larger target), and size (it was the largest nationality group at the school). Caroline’s comments on the German students were widely shared and expressed to me in similar ways—both by German and expat employees at the school, and by expatriate students and parents. As a school counsellor, Caroline also evaluated the behaviour of German community members as a response to the international school environment. She argued that German students reacted in this way to “feel like a part of the [international school] culture” and that they “really

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have their own certain mentality that is perpetuated from home”—­ suggesting that the desire to display wealth stemmed from these students’ domestic sphere as well. German students were more socially involved outside of the school environment in affluent social networks of the surrounding area and in those encouraged by their parents who were typically well-connected with elite social circles of the region. Therefore they exhibited dispositions, values, skills and knowledge which were fostered through socialisation practices across both environments (the international school and the elite host society). Pulling up to the school parking lot in a luxury brand vehicle was the norm for many of these students—though for others, such displays of wealth were interpreted negatively. My interview with Caroline was particularly interesting, as she was experienced with behavioural issues at the school, and was aware of the tensions between the ‘expatriates’ and the ‘Germans’. She argued that some of the German students struggled with their acclimation to the school culture, which was in ‘their’ country: “Although it’s different in every grade, and some grades are more than others (lowers voice) Germans are the ones with more of a clique, having to feel like a part of the culture—of THEIR culture, you know?”

Caroline felt that the German students tended to band together through the shared experience of being institutionally encouraged to ‘internationalise’ in a space which was actually a foreign sub-culture within their country, and one that was valued more highly within the school. Their trajectory at the school as mostly ‘permanent’ residents within the region seemed to impact how they contributed to the social fabric of the school. Their reputation for forming very tight social groups, which sometimes (perhaps unintentionally) excluded others from joining was reported by some of the students I interviewed. Andrew, a British high school student, reflected on his experience trying to make friends with ‘Germans’ when he first arrived at ISG a few years prior:

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Andrew: I got involved with the Germans, but they kept speaking German, so I got to know Bryan, and he introduced me to the Americans. Now I am involved with that group and all they talk about is basketball. I have no idea what they’re going on about.

Philip, a Dutch student, also highlighted his struggle to hang out with ‘the Germans’ when he arrived: Philip: The Germans can be—they have problems. They used to get upset and say why are you hanging around?

And Stephanie, an American high school student also found it challenging. In this focus group exchange, she confronted the issue with Johanna, who had identified herself as a half-German, half-American: Stephanie: I’ve only got one German friend here at this school. But— (pause, lowers voice a bit) I mean, Germans tend to talk to each other and sit with each other a bit more— Johanna: (interrupts) OK yeah I mean I can see it, because there’s this group that has been here since like first grade and they know each other. So there’s definitely like ‘the Germans’, but there’s also a group of ‘Americans’. So I guess it’s like, the comfortable language for them, speaking German. I mean, if you know each other and you speak the same language, it’s just like, easier that way.

During our interview, Johanna spoke with an inclusive ‘we’ when referencing German students. However, at this point, she switched to referring to these particular German students as ‘them’. It allowed her to distance herself from negative connotations regularly associated with ‘Germans’ at ISG. Johanna also became slightly defensive after Stephanie made comments about ‘Germans’—retorting, ‘there’s also definitely a group of ‘Americans”. These exchanges give testimony to the reputation ‘Germans’ had gained at the school for forming very tight friendships, which were seen by expatriate students as very challenging to access for a variety of reasons. One teacher corroborated this when she told me she equated the dynamic to German kids often attending the school for their entire schooling (K-12), and in a community comprising 70% ‘expat’ students,

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they were the only nationality group that was ‘fixed’. Their expatriate classmates would come and go, and a natural response to this is to close off from expat groups. Being left behind is very challenging. She argued that this contributed to the dynamic of indirectly excluding expats from their social groups they had built since the beginning of their education at ISG. Caroline also discussed the German students who transitioned into ISG after being educated in local schools. She believed that the transition from the German national school system in neighbouring towns and cities to the international school system could be extremely difficult for German students; and that students sometimes developed behavioural problems as a result. She stated: “I had a student that was German, and we couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t performing. She was very capable and that kind of thing. She just seemed really angry and upset. So I started talking to her, and found out that her parents had decided to take her out of the German school in 4th grade. You know, they make their transition, and put her into [ISG] without talking to her. She was literally pulled out and plopped here at [ISG] even though her friends were still close by”.

Some of ISG’s German students transferred into the school in the later grades, particularly in 5th grade, a time at which local schools branch into separate secondary schools depending on academic performance and/or potential. The transition is oftentimes difficult for these students, particularly because they gradually lose their local friends in the process. Anger and resentment, Caroline argued, was often visible in the students’ academic performance or socially. She suggested this might explain why particularly German students had gained a reputation for being ‘bullies’, as expressed by my expat participant Fiona: “My son is lightly bullied every day. It’s all German kids. German kids are on my shit list right now. I mean, what is it about them? WHAT is it?”

Fiona went on to explain that her children’s experiences with ‘Germans’ at ISG had been detrimental in their understanding of their host society in general:

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“…it unfortunately becomes a way for my kids to become more distant from local kids. Instead of finding commonalities, they only are seeing the differences. And that’s a sad thing”.

Fiona expressed a real desire to understand why German students behaved in this way, and even asked me to hold a discussion group within the PTO about possibly organising an ‘intercultural awareness group’ to tackle these issues. Since then, I have run workshops in international school communities in Germany, and the issues of perceived difference between the expats and the locals has always been a common theme raised by participants. Wealth, and the power of economic capital for German nationals transcended the boundaries of the international school. Access to exclusive spaces, lifestyles, ‘high’ culture, and social networks contribute to the reproduction of the elite status. This ‘sense of distinction’ (Bourdieu 1986a) places these individuals at the top of the local social structure. ISG, as an exclusive educational institution, reinforced the status of exclusivity. I discovered that German parents sent their children to ISG for varying reasons—however all of which tended to be based on granting their child an education that was different and more exclusive and exceptional to that available locally. In my interview with Renate, she described how her two children, born and raised in the area, attended local schools until approximately age 8, where they transferred into ISG to obtain an English-medium education. She viewed ISG as a gateway into an ‘international’ life. Per her request, I met her in a café in the town in which she and her family lived. The town is also where her children attended primary school before transferring to ISG. It is known locally to be one of the most affluent areas in the region—attracting a high percentage of wealthy locals, celebrities and members of the cultural elite. This area is also popular with expatriates, and there are actually a number of expatriate social groups there. However, in our interview, she mentioned several times that she did not feel connected to the town anymore, since becoming involved with the ISG community. She expressed numerous times the value of this exclusivity, and told me she was proud that her children were

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‘international’, stating “The difference is local and global. My children are global” (2014). She also told me that her children had ‘no need’ to have local friends, as they would not be able to connect with them anyways. She perceived this in a positive manner, which reinforces the role ISG played on reproducing and reinforcing exclusive social positions for German nationals outside of the school. For Renate, being a member of the international school community meant exclusivity beyond what was available locally. This perception was not specific to Renate. Other German parents with children at ISG often saw the school as a means to express their cultural and social distinction in the host nation. I interviewed a few German members of staff, who brought up this issue to me. Olivia, a German receptionist at ISG without children attending the school said, “Germans here tend to see themselves above locals, and that’s also not OK”. She told me that she often struggled with disrespect from German parents who, she believed, saw her as a ‘local’ because of her ‘lowly’ position as a ‘secretary’. She was adamant that it was her occupation and presumed socio-economic status which triggered their disrespect. Her use the word, ‘local’ was sometimes contradictory. In some instances, she used it to describe herself, and in others, she would use it to indicate Germans from outside the school. These accounts suggest that nationality/cultural background played less of a role for Germans to affirm a positive social position within the ISG community, as there was little cultural capital associated within this classification system embedded within the school culture. Rather, they often used wealth to attempt to gain a unique status at ISG. Connectivity to the school stood for wealth and internationality—both of which promised a form of exclusivity that was otherwise relatively unattainable locally. Those who subscribed to the school’s programme found themselves in a position to improve their ‘international’ credentials while downplaying both locality and ‘Germanness’. However, within the school, they were no longer at the top of the social hierarchy as their economic capital was not as valued as other forms of cultural capital held by expat members. This affected interaction, led to contradictions and shaped particular behaviour within and between the groups.

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Some Concluding Remarks Group-making within the wider community of international schools is more complex than illustrated on an institutional level. Outwardly, the community projects a global orientation which illustrates all nationalities and cultural backgrounds as different, but equal contributors to community. At ISG, this was an expression of ‘global-mindedness’. However the reality is far more complex: the perception of neutrality and universality that stems from a ‘global’ orientation might be inadvertently harming and silencing some of the community’s more marginalised groups that must operate within the dominant structures that are institutionally reinforced. That being said, the global imaginary is indeed an imaginary that can be reframed, reconstructed and re-evaluated to become more holistic and less focused on methodological nationalism. Ultimately, the ‘international’ school brand can be counter-productive and quite limiting, as it tends to not fully articulate or represent the extensive, diverse, and fluid identities that are indeed present in the community. Are international schools actually selling themselves short through this social framework? As seen in the previous chapters of this book, ‘internationality’ is just one way of perceiving oneself with a global orientation. It is therefore worth considering, on an institutional level, how this ‘internationality’ is perceived and practiced within all facets of community life. This includes both ‘official’ and ‘unofficial’ lines of communication, which means examining both the visible and invisible cultures of the school community. Schools can explore how they project notions of ‘diversity’, as not only related to cultural backgrounds related specifically to national belonging, but also other forms of ‘diversity’ (e.g. examining the intersectionality of race, gender, socio-economic status, academic history, age, locality, etc.). This involves how teachers perceive and construct meaning around the notion of this ‘diversity’ for their students in classrooms. It includes how the school community understands and projects its ‘intercultural awareness’ and how this concept is pulled out of the popular nationality-oriented framework. It also means examining how schools engage their students, staff and importantly, parents in ‘intercultural’

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activities, and the extent to which they challenge ‘ownership’ of nationalities and the allocation of nationality ‘representatives’ to produce cultural knowledge of ‘their’ culture. It involves investigating how the ‘local’ appears (or does not appear) within content and classroom discussions, and encouraging alternative ways of identity-building both within and outside the classroom. And finally, it includes an exploration of what the ‘dominant’ cultures of the school look like, of the bias connected to it, the forms of cultural capital that are valued, and who or what is being marginalised or excluded in the process. Addressing these issues can impact the global imaginary of international school communities and the culture that emerges from this in substantial ways—particularly in a network of international schools located around the world that are uniquely synched and mobile within themselves. Large organisations like the Council of International Schools (CIS), International Schools Services (ISS), the various regional international networks like the Association of German International Schools (AGIS) and even the International Baccalaureate (IB) can facilitate these cultural changes, as relevant to each individual accredited institution. The beauty of the international school network (and the various organisations that facilitate it) is that educators can reshape the ways in which the global imaginary is articulated in practice within each international school community, as relevant to the respective school’s requirements and needs within the local context in which they are situated.

References Appadurai, A. (1994). Commodities and the Politics of Values. In S. M. Pearce (Ed.), Interpreting Objects and Collections (pp. 76–91). London: Routledge. Bailey, L. (2015). The Experience of Host Country Nationals in International Schools: A Case Study from Malaysia. Journal of Research in International Education, 14(2), 85–97. Bailey, L. (2018). Asian Or International? Exploring the Tensions and Opportunities Offered by International Schools in Asia for Local Students. In K. J. Kennedy & J. C.-K. Lee (Eds.), The Routledge Handbook on Schools and Schooling in Asia (pp. 272–279). Abingdon: Routledge.

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Bourdieu, P. (1986a). Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste. Great Britain: Routledge and Kegan Paul Ltd. Bourdieu, P. (1986b). The Forms of Capital. In J. G. Richardson (Ed.), Handbook of Theory and Research for the Sociology of Education (pp. 241–258). Westport: Greenwood Press. Bourdieu, P., & Wacquant, L. J. D. (1992). An Invitation to Reflexive Sociology. Cambridge: Polity Press. Brubaker, R. (2002). Ethnicity Without Groups. European Journal of Sociology, 43(2), 163–189. Callier, H. (2016). Hip-hop-ization: Localizing a Global Youth Culture: The Remix. PhD, University of Hong Kong. [Online]. Retrieved August 2016, from http://hub.hku.hk/bitstream/10722/225198/1/FullText.pdf?accept=1. Emenike, N. W., & Plowright, D. (2017). Third Culture Indigenous Kids: Neo-­ colonialism and Student Identities in Nigerian International Schools. Journal of Research in International Education, 16(1), 3–17. Fitzsimons, S. (2019). Students’ (Inter)National Identities Within International Schools: A Qualitative Study. Journal of Research in International Education, 18(3), 274–279. Khalil, L. (2019). International Schooling: A Sociocultural Study. PhD Thesis, University of Southampton. Maher, C., Harker, R., & Wilkes, C. (2016). Bourdieu: Education and Reproduction. In R. Harker, C. Maher, & C. Wilkes (Eds.), An Introduction to the Work of Pierre Bourdieu: The Practice of Theory (pp.  1–25). London: Palgrave Macmillan. Montgomery, R. (2018). A Phenomenological Narrative of Thai Graduates of International Schools in Thailand. PhD, Lamar University. Sander, M. (2016). Passing through Shanghai: Ethnographic Insights into the Mobile Lives of Expatriate Youths. Heidelberg: Heidelberg University. Schubert, J.  D. (2008). Suffering/Symbolic Violence. In M.  Grenfell (Ed.), Pierre Bourdieu: Key Concepts (pp. 179–194). Stocksfield: Acumen. Tanu, D. (2014). Becoming ‘International’: The Cultural Reproduction of the Local Elite at an International School in Indonesia. South East Asia Research, 22(4), 579–596. Tanu, D. (2018). Growing up in Transit: The Politics of Belonging at an International School. New York and Oxford: Berghahn. Webb, J., Schirato, T., & Danaher, G. (2002). Understanding Bourdieu. London: Sage.

5 A Global Network

Heather: So you have the international school network, and each school takes on its own sort of local flair—do you find that there is an international flair that tends to be there from one international school to the next? Gary: They’re not completely different. They’re very similar actually. I’ve been working at five or six [international schools], and I’ve visited probably twenty. And there are great similarities. Heather: I guess that’s why they were established—to ease transitions. Gary: They’re similar in different ways. I think they’re converged in different ways. The American and British international schools are quite different in many ways, curriculum of course, and also in terms of values, what is promoted, and traditions. But I think there are a lot of similarities. I think of course many of the students go between these schools anyways. So they create their own culture. But that’s also not only perpetuated by the students, but also the teachers. (Interview with ISG Leader)

It is without a doubt that each international school around the world characterises itself in a unique and special manner, as influenced by its host society, culture, language, location, and the community it serves. Simultaneously, these schools remain strongly connected to a wider international school network. This network is known to reproduce uniform practices, discourses and features that ultimately characterise the system as collaborative, joined up and even standardised in certain areas. These features expressing a similarity are mostly found within the system’s general ethos of delivering a ‘global’ dimension to learning, and its facilitation of international mobility and the expatriate lifestyle. International © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 H. A. Meyer, The Global Imaginary of International School Communities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-72744-4_5

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schools around the world are often connected through their International Baccalaureate (IB) authorisation, or provision of similarly-positioned curricular programmes—allowing internationally mobile families to transition, in the hope that there will be a limited hinderance to their children’s academic development and growth. The Anglo-cultural focus of English-medium international schools encourages a specific type of continuity and consistency. The global imaginary the community constructs helps not only with academic transitions, but also with cultural, social and emotional ones—as members will connect and identify quickly with fellow community members they perceive as like-minded. In this way, international mobility is eased through the network: as families understand the expectations, values, norms and features that await them in their next international school community. The network therefore plays an important role in facilitating the international school culture that Gary spoke of in our interview together. This chapter explores how the global imaginary of international school communities is reproduced through the interconnectivity of a wider community network,1 and through a range of organisations, enterprises, private companies and consultants that have become associated with the system itself. The international school network is one of the most expansive, collaborative, and lucrative educational spaces in the world, through which an array of organisations operate. This includes accreditation agencies like the Council of International Schools (CIS); recruitment organisations like International Schools Services (ISS); regional networks of ‘like-minded’ international schools such as the Association of German International Schools (AGIS); theme-based networks catering to similarly oriented international schools like the International Schools Theatre Association (ISTA) or the International Schools Sports Association (ISSA); and even research and marketing groups providing data and intelligence to English-speaking international schools like the International Schools Consultancy (ISC). These organisations ultimately  In this chapter, I refer to ‘network’ as a series of groups comprising international schools that are organised together by a governing body. I specifically discuss the networks and organisations most relevant to ISG, however it is important to note that the networks that have been established to serve the international school community come in a number of different formats. 1

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work to validate and recognise individual schools as part of a global network comprising compatible schools delivering similar objectives, standards, and products. These organisations both depend on and contribute to the international school system’s global imaginary—offering services which place value on the specific forms of cultural capital to which international school community members subscribe.

Global Organisations It’s useful to begin with a look into some of the largest organisations that play a role in reproducing the international school community’s global imaginary beyond the immediate school spaces. I discuss two organisations in particular that play a significant role in this: The Council of International Schools (CIS), and International School Services (ISS). CIS is an organisation that first and foremost provides accreditation services to international schools, and whose ‘stamp of approval’ increases the international school’s legitimacy in the sector. ISS is one of the most popular recruitment agencies for the international school network, and draws on the system’s market demand for a particular skillset for prospective faculty and leaders aiming to have an international school career. Both organisations offer an array of additional services for international schools around the world and play an important role in shaping the international school community network on a global level.2

Council of International Schools (CIS) The Council of International Schools is an organisation that offers an important quality assurance measure—in the form of an accreditation process—that international schools wishing to become members or wanting to maintain their membership undergo. Accreditation ensures quality within the network and is vital in demonstrating institutional legitimacy among member schools. Expatriate families moving to another  ISS and CIS are just examples of providers that are available to the international school sector. There are a range of other organisations that do similar work. 2

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country can be reassured through a CIS accreditation that their children will be attending an international school that has undergone (and continues to undergo) a significant, and quite rigorous quality assurance review. A CIS accreditation evidences that an international school offers a strong institutional mission, a commitment to global citizenship, and a consistent peer-evaluation programme, to name a few (CIS 2020a). While there are a small number of agencies that offer similar accreditation services, including the New England Association of Schools and Colleges (NEASC), CIS is popular for its global orientation and ever-­increasing network that is specifically linked and dedicated to the quality and enhancement of the international school system. For this reason, it is very common to see international schools regularly promote their accreditation status in their promotional literature and to feature prominently on their websites. Particularly in the case of CIS accreditation, each member school is immediately linked to over 500 globally-oriented, accredited and compatible international schools around the world (CIS 2020a). This network helps member schools stay connected, increases communication and quality assurance between schools, and ensures that similar discourses and practices are taking place no matter where the school is located in the world. The accreditation processes and the membership benefits that CIS provides have important cultural implications on the international school system. As argued at the beginning of this chapter, while each international school will be influenced by its surrounding host society’s cultural input to some degree, especially those related to governing policies and regulations that may be enforced by local authorities, CIS ensures that member international schools maintain nonetheless a level of standardised ideologies and practices that promote the international school system as one that is like-minded and unique as a collective network. The emphasis on ‘global citizenship’ as an essential standard towards accreditation and membership ensures that the ‘global’ is expressed as an institutional, and significantly, identifiable and demonstrable feature of learning at any international school. During my fieldwork, I had the opportunity to hear about the first-­ hand accreditation process from Gary, who held a leadership position at the International School of Germany (ISG). He had a very large amount

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of experience within the international school system—having worked as an international school leader for nearly twenty years at schools located all over the world. His shared his experiences with me one afternoon in his office: Heather: These accreditation services—how does that work? Gary: So the accreditation is a process much like other quality assurance processes. And there are various other corporate ways of doing it. So accreditation is a self-evaluation. Which leads to a visit by a group of peers from other schools, who then spend a week in your school looking at the report produced by the school showing its self-evaluation. And then they come up with their own report which will either validate or add other things. So that goes on and on—the big one is every ten years. And they produce a report, and within a year, the school must respond to all of the recommendations. They don’t have to fix anything necessarily. And then in the final year, they come and make sure we addressed everything. Heather: And these people are from international schools? Gary: Yes. For example, I do it once a year. So this year I got an invitation [to a school in Japan]. We fly together, and then that week you have to work as a team. So in 5 years you have to address everything, and that 5 year period is also an indication of what you might be looking at when you enter the next self-evaluation 2 years later. So we’re in that sort of travel period now between our 5 year mark, 18 months ago, and in another 18 months we’ll start our next self-evaluation. Heather: Is it done through surveys? Gary: No. The peer accreditation agencies provide the standards and indicators to see if the school has achieved those standards. So what you do is you hand in those documents, and you have to evaluate yourself, A-B-­ C-D, and then state whether that section meets those standards or not. And then you have to write for that particular section, school staff, or finance, or curriculum of course, or activities and kinds of things, not just teaching. Things you think you do well, things you think you don’t, and then what your action plan is. Heather: And how do you get your school to be a part of that? Because I imagine there are start-up schools. How does the school get to the point where it is recognised as being accredited like [ISG]? Gary: Well let’s take the Council of International Schools. They’re the accreditation agency I know best. But they work very closely with the New

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England Association of Schools and Colleges, which is a long-established American accreditation agency. So if it’s a start-up school, they’re told: “Don’t even come to us for another few years, you know, you need to… (pause searching for word) Heather: “Kind of establish yourselves”? Gary: Yeah—“go through the growing pains and all.” Then if you’re ready, you make the decision as a school, on whether or not you want to go through with it, and they will then say whether they think the school is ready. So it depends on how much is invested in the school, and who’s running it. And how quickly a school can get up and running. But anyways, in a school as well-established as [ISG], there are more than 101 things to do, because you can always think of things you can do better.

Gary’s testimony highlights how a significant component of the accreditation process is a peer-to-peer review (conducted by CIS-trained educators),3 which allows for member schools to learn from each other and contribute to the development of other member schools within the network. Provided that this process involves international school-to-­ international school dialogue, the global imaginary and community culture can be maintained, regulated and reproduced. CIS offers a range of additional services, to which member schools, parents and international school staff can subscribe. These include hiring CIS individual, specialist consultants to review specific curricular, cultural, organisational or well-being and safeguarding issues seen within schools, and can also include university counselling services for individual families (CIS 2020c). The organisation’s provisions highlight a particular global imaginary: one that frames international schools as the pathway towards global citizenship, international-mobility, higher education, and a globally-oriented career. CIS plays a multi-faceted role in ensuring that the over-arching ‘global’ symbol is featured as an essential aspirational quality and visible feature of any of their accredited member schools. Given its position, the organisation remains up-to-date with developments in the sector and promotes the themes it deems most relevant and appropriate for its member schools. If schools require assistance in reaffirming a global orientation for  See CIS (2020b).

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example, CIS offers a range of services, resources and strategies for educational leaders in international schools to facilitate global citizenship education  within their communities. These are important services that are offered within CIS, as they ensure the global imaginary is reproduced from a variety of angles in top-down and bottom-up approaches. Without these types of organisations, the international school system would lack consistency, educational progression and quality assurance.

International Schools Services (ISS) International Schools Services (ISS) also plays a significant role in the development of international schools and its recruitment processes for the international school system. ISS provides a range of services including support towards the development of new schools around the world; the delivery of educational products to international schools; and significantly, the recruitment of international school leaders and teachers (ISS 2020). Because international schools recruit from all over the world, ISS works as a central hub through which vacancies can be advertised for the sector, and prospective applicants can not only search for open positions, but also subscribe, paying an annual fee, for access to an up-to-date database of international school vacancies and network of over 500 international schools (ISS 2020). While recruitment agencies like ISS open their vacancy network to anyone meeting the minimal requirements, the resources that are made available sometimes work as, what Canterford (2009, p. 31) calls ‘ports of entry’. These are mechanisms help filter candidates, which he argues often favours the Anglo world (2009, p. 32). Examples of such ‘ports of entry’ might be requesting candidates to provide evidence of a training in ‘Western pedagogical techniques’ or to have experience delivering the IB, American or British curricula. The resources for applicants are sometimes overtly catered to those applying from Anglophone countries. For example, offering ‘expat’ advice targeted only for ‘Canadian’, ‘New Zealand’, ‘Australia’, ‘U.S.’ and ‘U.K.’ citizens (e.g. ISS Schrole Advantage 2020). These subtle indications can be very effective in

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attracting and deterring particular applicants seeking an international school career. This recruitment trend is a result of three central market demands: first, is the popular assumption that ‘native’ and ‘accent-free’ English speaking teachers should be delivering core curricular content (Hayden 2011; van Werven 2015; Perez-Amurao and Sunanta 2020; Persaud 2018). The second is linked to the cultural capital teachers and educational leaders hold if they have a university degree and/or teaching certification from a Western Anglophone country (Ingersoll 2019). The third relates to the regulation of the ‘local’ and the associated sentiments that circulate international schools, which lead to a trend in limiting teacher recruitment from the host country, with the exception of language teachers (Schwindt 2003; Canterford 2009; Bailey and Gibson 2019). Recruitment agencies like ISS have assisted schools in meeting these demands (Canterford 2003, 2009; Hayden 2006), which ultimately encourages a restriction in the process of ensuring diversity within the body of teaching staff found at international schools. Therefore, while international schools strive to create and promote a culturally diverse learning environment for students (as seen in Chap. 4), much less of an emphasis is given to the diversity of their teaching staff— both of these practices are market-driven. As a result, the value that is placed on expat, white, Anglophone culture and English-language capabilities (packaged as ‘global’) is maintained and reproduced through the international school community’s global imaginary. Moreover, the community reconstructs hierarchies based on these very specific perceptions that are contradictory, yet currently normalised throughout the network. Large organisations like CIS and ISS offer professional development opportunities for subscribing member schools and international school employees. Through conferences, fairs, seminars and workshops, they help maintain the global imaginary of the wider network—providing professional certifications and programmes which help circulate the discourses and practices that reproduce the international school system. Other services offered through such organisations and within the wider unaffiliated, commercial space focus on facilitating positive experiences for ‘Third Culture Kids’ (TCKs) (see Chap. 1). The fact that these services specifically work with the term ‘TCK’ helps link the label specifically to

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the international school sector, to the social imagination of the international school community, and even within popular culture. Magazine articles, blogs, books and research that are promoted through these organisations and companies often assume a particular stance towards the needs, requirements and expectations from globally-mobile families of international schools. It popularises the ‘TCK’ identity and experience  as one associated with an international school education, which arguably not only promotes the sector in general, but also significantly contributes to the narrative of exclusivity that underpins the global imaginary of the sector. The international school network involves affluent, elite and privileged families that can afford the additional resources, services and recommendations that are made through these organisations—this includes the capability to reproduce a globally-oriented social imaginary.

Other Organisations Universities Colleges and universities can also take advantage of the lucrative international school market in their recruitment activity. The Council of International Schools offers membership to higher education providers, under a specific set of criteria. Through this membership, colleges and universities can gain access to the international school network, global university recruitment fairs, and a range of member resources (CIS 2020d). The vast majority of universities and colleges currently engaged in this scheme are located in the United States and the United Kingdom (CIS 2020e). The message that is relayed perpetuates the discourse of placing value on Western, Anglo-focused higher education institutions. This opportunity can be extremely attractive to universities seeking to recruit international students, as they usually pay higher tuition fees than ‘home’ students. Moreover, families from international schools are generally already seeking universities abroad, and are likely to be able and willing to pay the higher fees (Ingersoll 2019). The connection between international schools and Anglophone universities goes even further:

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International schools prepare their students with both academic and personal skills that are relevant to these environments (Wechsler 2017; Ingersoll 2019); and they also promote professional development opportunities for staff run through universities primarily located in Anglophone countries (ISC 2020). Of course, the international school community benefits significantly from these networks as well. International schools can promote their ability to connect their high fee-paying students with a wide range of universities and colleges in these specific regions of the world. This touches on the perceived value of a higher education from the Anglo world—an element which is regularly advertised at international schools, including how many of their students end up with successful applications in these countries’ universities. At ISG for example, the university acceptances were advertised on the school website and magazines according to three categories: ‘U.K.’ ‘North America’ and ‘Other’. All of this contributes again to the global imaginary of the international school community— the notion that a global education, global-orientation and ‘global’ skillset is positioned towards a Western, Anglophone culture.

Regional Networks Regional or country-specific organisations of international schools are set up for a variety of purposes including community building, public engagement and professional development support. These networks also help to further substantiate international schools’ reputation within their respective regions, and it is commonplace to see these networks advertised on international school webpages and promotional literature. As mentioned earlier, AGIS is an example of a regional network that builds connections between ‘like-minded’ international schools within Germany, including an annual conference for professional development and networking. Country-focused networks are useful in addressing policies and governance issues that are highly contextualised to that particular nation-­ state. Region-focused networks serve other purposes—including international networking, professional growth, and service excellence. Some

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examples include Eastern and Central European Schools Association, and the Mediterranean Association of International Schools.4

Services for Third Culture Kids A search for ‘Third Culture Kid’ online will locate an array of resources for the ‘expatriate’ family—generally expected to be experiencing an international school education. As seen in Chap. 1, over the years, the term has been reproduced as specifically linked to the international school system, and one that relates to a particular form of diaspora and ‘type’ of ‘migrant’. There are subsequent ‘tack-on’ organisations, companies, institutions and individuals that benefit and make a profit through this term and their loose association to the international school system. They address the needs of affluent families that find the term incredibly useful to illustrate their intercultural experiences. These private companies and consultancies work across public expatriate informational websites, discussion boards and even individual international schools—reproducing the TCK identity as one that is first and foremost applicable to an international school student. The vast body of ‘TCK’-related resources that are available to international school families is arguably the result of the sector’s privileged position in the world. The skills, qualities, experiences (both positive and negative) that are meticulously investigated and addressed in innumerable formats are framed as specifically unique, special and worthy of attention on a global level. While it is important to highlight that many of these resources and services are profit-driven—geared for audiences that are likely able and willing to invest in them, they are of course very much needed. The fact that they exist and are able to thrive in such a competitive environment shows that there is a significant market demand for such resources, as international school students notoriously struggle with a sense of belonging and identity (e.g. Fail et al. 2004; Grimshaw and  These examples are based in Europe, however the country-specific and regional networks of international schools can be found all over the world. Some examples include the Association of International Schools in Africa (AISA); International Schools Association of Thailand (ISAT); and the Association of China and Mongolia Schools (ACAMIS). 4

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Sears 2008; Pearce 2011; Ota 2014; Tanu 2018). The global imaginary is reproduced through this demand: the more resources that are made available and the attention directed towards the TCK identity as related to international school kids, the more the uniqueness and exclusivity of an international school education and experience is validated and legitimised. On an institutional and organisational level, international schools around the world—particularly those which are accredited by the leading agencies—can remain interconnected and synched in a variety of different ways through a range of different channels. These are what make the sector so successful, as these forms of collaboration and interconnectivity facilitate the calibration measures that are in demand by international school families. For expatriates, the transition experiences of their children are eased, and for host nationals, the locally up-rooted and globally-­ oriented education that is desired is successfully delivered. Moreover, the standardisation mechanisms in place also ensure that international school teachers and leaders can easily move from school to school, and country to country. They can ideally build on their own international experiences, further informing their intercultural awareness, which in turn can be relayed back into the school community. As seen, there is an abundance of resources and services that are available to international school community members to ensure that their educational, social, cultural and emotional experiences are positive, successful and memorable within these spaces and beyond. It is in this way that the culture of the wider international school system and affiliated networks is maintained and reconstructed. The manner in which the community faces and projects itself outwardly and inwardly as a collective, interconnected system, is a ramification of the social imaginary of the international school system. The network provides opportunities for its community members to regularly practice their social imagination under a consistent, often regulated global-orientation that helps validate these social positions and perceptions of themselves, their community and the outside world.

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 he International School Network T and the ISG Community While international schools regularly engage with their accreditation agencies, curriculum providers towards authorisation (e.g. the International Baccalaureate), and the insurmountable resources made available through other affiliated associations, companies and people to provide consistency, international school families also experience and benefit from particular organisations and the collaborative links directly. International schools offer an impressive amount of opportunities for their students to have intercultural learning experiences beyond the classroom and curricular life, through their networks. As seen in previous chapters, international travel is often encouraged in curricular activity, and of course, this is also facilitated via the schools’ extracurricular programming. The provision of these opportunities are essential to uphold the brand of internationality; for accreditation; to compete with the local educational market(s) (where relevant); and to promote their provision of opportunities which will make students well-equipped for university admissions processes and employment. There are hundreds of leagues, conferences and small sub-networks that help facilitate international travel and intercultural engagement opportunities for international school students around the world. These are mostly organised within regions, though also exist as global networks and connections between individual schools. It is through these organisations that the global imaginary once again gets transmitted, practiced and reproduced, as students travel to engage with other international school communities in their extra-curricular programmes.

Following ISG Students Through the Network One Autumn, during my observations at ISG, three teams of student athletes and their coaches travelled to Austria to participate in a sports tournament hosted by another international school. This trip was one of approximately 4 or 5 seasonal international tournaments taking place for

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each ISG team: football, tennis and volleyball. Such international tournaments included competitions on international school campuses in Switzerland, Greece and Austria. ISG student athletes and their coaches met early in the morning at the school parking lot to embark on an all-­ day bus journey to an international school campus in Austria. Travelling great distances to compete against other international schools is an important component of international school extra-curricular life. For each of these international events, students at ISG would need to pay out of pocket for the travel expenses, which according to the school’s Athletic Office, was very rarely problematic for families. Community members involved in such after school activities were readily able and willing to invest this opportunity for their children to experience new cities abroad. The hosting international school in Austria was one of several, though this particular school was very similar to ISG. It was located in a suburb and not signposted. In fact, it was so isolated that I actually had to drive a few times up and down the street to find it. The campus was controlled by a security checkpoint, with a large gate and fence surrounding the entire campus. When student buses arrived, the gates opened, and quickly closed again. Students were greeted by their international school’s ‘Housing Coordinator’, who helped allocate them to their ‘housing families’. ‘Housing families’ or ‘host families’ were volunteers from the host international school who would provide accommodation for kids from the visiting teams. They were responsible for ensuring the safety, accommodation, transport, and board for the travelling athletes. Most of the time, each child would be paired with another teammate with one housing family. Housing families nearly always had children who were competing in the same competition as the visiting students—and were often the same age. This was done on purpose by the host school’s Housing Coordinator, to facilitate ‘international’ networking opportunities, comfort, and an intercultural experience for everyone. The coaches from ISG stayed in a nearby hotel, which they had used for this purpose for the past twenty years. The students and coaches arrived the next day for one single morning of competition. The entire event lasted between 2 and 3 hours. Students were given either money to buy food from a stand which was organised

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by the international school’s ‘Booster Club’ of Parent Teacher Organisation (PTO) members, or provided a packed lunch from their host families. The food on offer was, here too, ‘American’: hamburgers, hotdogs, hot chocolate with mini marshmallows and other American sweets and baked goods. The school had an elaborate facility—large football fields, a track strip with bleachers and flood lights for evening matches and competitions, and large tennis facilities—all of which could not be viewed or accessed from the street. The competition ended very quickly—students and staff did not stay to socialise with each other. In fact, it happened so fast that most students did not even change clothes after their tournament: they boarded the bus in their sport uniforms. On the return journey, the bus stopped a few times at motorway rest stops, including a McDonald’s restaurant for short breaks. Upon arrival back home, it dropped students off at the ISG parking lot to their waiting parents. The students had travelled great distances for an overnight stay in Austria for a single sports match. It became clear that international schools took great efforts to provide students with such international travel opportunities within their after school activities programmes. However, my observations suggest that the students engaged with a nearly identical form of ‘internationality’ from one school campus to the next. While the Austria trip illustrates overnight sports trips as being relatively routine and insular affairs, there was also evidence of larger trips, for instance, the French language students travelling to Paris for a week. However, the vast majority of travelling activities took place between international school campuses across Europe. Extra-curricular activities were particularly centred on organising intercultural exchanges5 through international travel, similar to the curricular orientations expressed through the school’s Creativity, Activity, Service (CAS) programme, as seen in Chap. 3. This global orientation towards extracurricular activity is widely shared across the international school network. Michetti et al. (2015) summarise this position nicely:

 Scholarly accounts of these exchanges are limited, though support my findings on this orientation. See for example Aristidou (2012); Maguth and Hilburn (2015). 5

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To be truly authentic [in global education], this includes collaborations with others around the world to learn from different perspectives and to build communication skills that transcend countries and cultures. Ideally, connections will also happen outside the classroom. Athletic and artistic events allow students in an ideal school to compete or collaborate within a regional network of like-sized schools, offering the experience of travel and forming bonds through interests with those who may not be an everyday part of their lives. Ideally, when moving from school to school, students feel connected to previous learning experiences via similar curricula and educational philosophies. Teachers also feel connected both within the community and beyond it, through face-to-face and electronic, and distance learning opportunities. (2015, p. 162)

This excerpt highlights very clearly the stance and emphasis towards travel, and connecting students and teachers to other cultures within similar educational settings. Students engage with other international school students and families—sometimes housing with families from different cultural backgrounds. While I did not see many students from oppositional teams actively engaging with each other in Austria, it can be assumed that social activities with students from another school occurred in the housing experience. Teams tended to ‘hang out’ with their teammates during the actual tournaments—whether it was forming a space in the bleachers waiting to participate, in the cafeterias and open-spaces, or watching other games and activities taking place around the school campus. The atmosphere was very competitive and teams marked themselves clearly through symbols (flags, colours, music) of their home school’s host nation and/or city, and less frequently with school mascots. Therefore it seemed that while students experienced these intercultural experiences with others through being ‘housed’, these engagements tended to stop once students stepped onto the school campus to compete. Coaching and teaching staff from the participating schools on the other hand seemed to know each other better, and social gatherings after competitions were always arranged by the host school’s athletic department at a nearby restaurant.

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After School Activities at ISG This example in Austria highlights how ISG’s After School Activities (ASA) programme operated within an intricate, elaborate network of international school extracurricular organisations. ASA sports and arts programmes were designed to create more intercultural exchanges primarily with other international schools. Some of the larger networks within which ISG was involved included: International Schools Sports Tournaments (ISST), Sports Council of International Schools (SCIS), International School Theatre Association (ISTA) and Association for Music in International Schools (AMIS). Such networks allow international schools to operate within a self-contained system that is not regulated by their respective host country’s educational and/or recreational framework. ISG, for example, could participate in organised sport against other international schools locally and across the world, for the reason that these institutions were (largely) privately operated within their host nations. Without being affiliated with a Sportverein,6 it was not allowed to participate in organised recreational activities against German teams. This allows for the promotion of international travel opportunities for participating students including parent volunteers and chaperones, and contributes to community building among partner schools. That is, the facilitation of international travel opportunities contributes to the perception that the international school system and community is ‘global’. This form of ‘globalism’ encourages travel not simply as a form of intercultural engagement, but also as access to exclusive places and people.  Sports club. According to the German Olympic Sports Confederation (Deutscher Olympischer Sportbund), over 27.8 million members across 91,000 sports clubs within Germany participated in the league at the time of this study (DOSB 2016). The ISG community could also become a part of its own Sportverein—which allowed students doing particular sports (primarily football, basketball and volleyball) to play against local teams. Students without a Sportverein membership were not authorised to play in the local leagues. Russ, a long-standing ISG employee at the time of my research told me in an interview some of the tensions this created: “It’s always created a conflict, when you put all your attention into German leagues, which have different seasons, and then to compete internationally with the international schools. There is tension there. But the relationship with local clubs is very very friendly. It’s a very positive experience. It’s one of the few areas that the school keeps involved with the local community”. The ‘tensions’ Russ referred to here were based on the difficulties ISG faced juggling the local sport regulations and season schedules with those of the international school system. 6

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Therefore, ‘travel’ also served to reinforce the exclusivity of the school network and its related social imaginary. The ISG Lego team, for example, travelled to Brazil during my fieldwork at ISG, as promoted in the school magazine. They flew to São Paulo to participate in a competition of 42 teams. The article in the magazine describes how the students not only competed there, but also met Brazilian President Dilma Rouseff who attended the event. It describes how a ‘constant stream’ of visitors at the event kept the ISG Lego Team busy, as people ‘of course’ wanted to meet ‘the Europeans’. This is quite significant, because students travelling with this team may not necessarily identify themselves as ‘European’ when at home in Germany. However, identities not typically used at school or at home came to life when they travelled abroad. It showed the situated character of identity politics: ‘European’, hardly used at the school in Germany, became not only a group-forming symbol in Brazil, but also, in some ways, an attractive brand. ISG actively engaged in organised activity with only 4 other schools in Germany, making the international travel aspect important in the formation of such partnerships. The ISST organisation comprised approximately 25 member schools at the time of my research. The additional, smaller conference within Europe, the Northwest European Council of International Schools (NECIS) operated separately and included only 2 other international schools which were based in Germany.

International Schools Sports Tournament (ISST) Provided that all students at ISG had to participate in an ‘Activity’ at some point to eventually fulfil their CAS requirement, the school and wider international school network placed a large emphasis on after school activities and athletics programmes. Sports competitions were therefore taken seriously, professionally officiated, took place in elite facilities, and scores and statistics were updated and published on the school website regularly for the community to read. Moreover, sport and sports tournaments were key ‘fields’ (Bourdieu 1977) where the school practiced, performed, and reinforced ‘community’ through ‘internationality’ and elitism.

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During my fieldwork, ISG hosted an ISST Track and Field tournament, in which 11 international schools (225 students) travelled to the ISG campus to compete. Students arrived by bus or by plane and were immediately delivered to the school campus to be picked up by their ISG ‘housing families’—in an identical fashion to the Austrian example mentioned previously. The housing family—as per convention—was responsible for providing a bed, breakfast, a packed lunch, and dinner for visiting students, and it was a requirement for all students participating in ISG sports or the arts to ‘house’ a student from another school at some point during the academic year. Most students participating in ASA programmes at ISG were expat students, as substantiated to me by both German and expat ISG employees. This was also observed by Schwindt (2003). I was told the German students had the tendency to participate in the Sportverein network available closer to their places of residence for a variety of reasons. As one German community member told me, she did not want to get “too sucked in” to the school. However, I received mixed views on this matter—some German parents also felt that their children could ‘no longer relate’ to German children their age, and for this reason participated in ASA. Another young German student told me he belonged to a Sportverein elsewhere because he felt the ISG football team was ‘not as good’ as the one available to him closer to his home. Others mentioned it was because of the distance. Many community members lived very far away and would rather participate in the Sportverein network closer to their homes. Therefore, visiting students from other international schools were typically housed with expatriate families. The intercultural exchange therefore often took place amongst families who experienced comparable expatriate lifestyles. The ease at which this housing process and such exchanges occurred demonstrates the interconnected culture of international schools—students understood the ‘rules of the game’ ((Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992)—being placed with another family in another country. They understood the customs, social conventions, and how to communicate within this environment. While they may have been physically mobile across national borders, the social and mental spaces of exchange are strikingly similar across the international school network. This is what

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allows international schools to conduct these tournaments, and place their students with families at such ease. Upon the students’ arrival, they were sent to the Housing Coordinator, who had organised the allocation of each student visitor to their ‘housing families’. The students arriving were wearing either business casual attire (a suit or a dress), or their international school track suits. The identical travel attire and smooth organisational routines indicated a well-rehearsed and shared practice between member schools. Most students also toted athletics (duffle) bags on which the name of their school and city in which their school was located were boldly displayed. The track suit jackets, and ultimately the uniforms, for example, often displayed the city name, instead of the school name. Therefore, on these occasions, students represented their identity as members of a team affiliated with a specific school and its location. Mascots were not typically used. The hosting schools often played on this idea—the ISG community members, for example frequently referred to students as (for example), ‘the Egyptians’, ‘the Parisian students’, or just simply, ‘Team Brussels’, in addition to using the actual school names. This was particularly noticeable within the housing pick-up event, as families were asking the Housing Coordinator to locate their student visitors for them. One particularly interesting element of such practices and discourses was the varying interpretations of the ‘distanced local’ exhibited within ISG and the international school system during different curricular and extracurricular functions. ISG was located approximately 50km away from the nearest city, however often promoted itself as affiliated within the urban local. Other international schools operated similarly, including the Austrian school mentioned previously. This is likely due to the fact that advertising takes place on an international scale, and individuals abroad are more likely to identify a city, than a village or town. In other instances, locality in such sports competitions is also seen in reference to the wider ‘national’—whereby community members began referring to themselves and others as ‘the Germans’ or ‘the Greeks’, for example. These competitions were rare occasions when international school students collectively used national symbols of the host nation to construct a new form of school membership. In these events, students proudly waved the flags of their respective countries of residence. Where students

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may not have entirely felt ‘German’ or ‘Austrian’ through flag waving, they nonetheless constructed the event as ‘international’, which became units distinguishable from one another for the sake of sportive competition. Therefore, the flag symbol for ‘nationhood’ became replaced in this field as a symbol of the school. These rituals were formed by, and reinforced the global imaginary of the international school system, its emphasis on demonstrating ‘internationality’ and ‘global-mindedness’ through a display of collective nationalities doing a task together. The German flags seemed to appear only in international school events outside of Germany, and never appeared at home—particularly when playing local teams via the Sportverein network. There is also a market-driven incentive to these practices, as international school sporting events in which flag-waving appeared also contributed to the construction of the international school brand, where pictures, videos and reflections were published for both community and public access. These images highlighted the ‘internationality’ of the community, the elite facilities and equipment used, and the school’s position within a successfully running international network in which travel and social networking opportunities for kids and their families are facilitated. The ISST event ran over a course of 2 days, in which students competed in both running and fielding events officiated by a professional company. Uniforms displayed either the name of the school or the city in which their international school was located. ISG athletes’ uniforms had the nearby city name written on them. The ISG track complex was framed by a series of national flags—each one hoisted on its own flagpole. The presence of the flags constructed the ISST tournament here as an elite ‘international’ event—almost, arguably in the style of the Olympic Games. The students representing distant places, coupled with the flags, and the fact that the meet was being officiated by a professional company, all added to the practice of simulating an exclusive, ‘international’ sports tournament. In fact, one of the officials mentioned to me that he had never worked at a school event before in which students had the opportunity to use a facility of such high calibre. Throughout the tournament, students ‘performed’ their association with ‘their’ host cities and countries through dress and symbols. For example, students sported attire with the name and/or school colours of

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the host city and carried national flags. These practices transcended into the housing experience, whereby ‘housers’ gave their host families ‘housing gifts’ made in their host nation. Students were regularly asked by each international school Athletic Department to bring a ‘housing gift’ as a token of gratitude for their housing families upon arrival when abroad. It was often suggested that they bring gifts which traditionally originated from the country from which they were arriving. For example, a student from an international school in Austria brought her housing family at ISG a box of Mozartkugeln—a speciality chocolate from the country. Throughout the duration of the ISST event, the performance of school allegiance through symbols of the host nation in fact substantially contradicted practices I observed throughout the school year on campus. For example, one week prior to the track and field meet, the ISG spring festival exhibited a culture of trivialising the local through strategies of internationalisation (see previous Chap. 4). The ISST event, soon after, did precisely the opposite—that is, ISG students sported uniforms displaying a local city name, and most hosted visiting students also representing a host nationality as a token of identity. Individual nationality flags and representations of national background, as encouraged one week prior, were no longer called for, or for that matter, present. This demonstrates that representations of national belonging are used according to contexts in which international school members see them as most beneficial, and highlights the complexities and situational features of identity performances. When attending these tournaments, I rarely saw students of different ‘national’ teams interact. They congregated in various sections across the ISG bleachers—leaving rows of the stands empty between them, and did not show much interest in socialising with each other—understandably so, as they were competing! Therefore, even though students had travelled across national borders for this encounter, it is questionable to what extent they were making ‘intercultural’ connections with each other. Instead, they displayed more of a loyalty to the team, and their performances of representing their host cities and nations. When called up onto the podium to receive a medal, some students even brought national flags of the host nations with them—mimicking again, conventions seen in international competitions like the Olympic Games. For example,

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medallists from ‘Cairo’ would drape the Egyptian national flag around their shoulders when approaching the podium and posing for pictures. While they did so, the rest of their teammates played Egyptian tabla drums, which they had brought with them from Cairo for this occasion. This team, like others, was able to strategically bring forward a normally ‘shelved’ form of cultural capital. Such performances can also be viewed as a form of mimicry—the strategic use of national identities and paraphernalia that the tournament encouraged. Not only was the ‘internationality’ of the event, or ‘meeting of nations’, understood and constructed through such practices, it was also dependent on them. ISG students also became athletic representatives of ‘Germany’ in other sports tournaments during the course of my research time there. Photos appeared in school magazines and websites with ISG students posing with medals around their necks holding up the German flag. It is important to note though that I did not see any evidence of these practices occurring when ‘home’ tournaments or games happened. The German flag seemed to only be brought out in this manner when competitions were set in another country—emphasizing the discourse circulating international school communities of performing an affinity to distant, non-local geographies. When international schools congregate in such competitions, symbols are ‘manipulated’ in order to maintain the integrity of the community. Cohen argues: The consciousness of community has to be kept alive through manipulation of its symbols. The reality and efficacy of the community’s boundary—and, therefore of the community itself—depends upon its symbolic construction and embellishment. (1985, p. 15)

In sports competitions, each individual international school loses its ‘uniqueness’ as being ‘international’ once placed amongst other like-­ minded institutions which employ similar orientations. Therefore, only in the context of several schools meeting could ISG’s ‘Germanness’ be used as a unifying symbol for its members and articulate a form of exclusivity and group spirit. Significantly, all school teams deployed the ‘patriotism’ to their host nation in a similar manner. At these tournaments,

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patriotism worked as both a symbol of distinction and as a template for ‘internationality’. The considerable funds spent on these student Olympiads showed that the organisers took them seriously as both educational and promotional tools.

After School Activities and Elitism When entering the school’s gym facility, the visitor was greeted by a range of plaques of student athletic accomplishments, pictures, trophies and accolades posted on the walls. These accolades displayed the progression of the school’s athletics programme over the years and also documented the school records and awards granted to the school’s gifted student athletes. In the middle of the wall display was a large, (1mx1m) framed and signed jersey of the track and field star Usain Bolt under which he wrote the school’s name. Lying over the top of the jersey was a piece of paper in which the autograph of the star was once again written, with the message: “For the wonderful [ISG]”. This framed piece was the focal point of the wall mural and worked to not only emphasise the school’s social connectivity to elite athletics, but also placed ISG’s accolades amongst an Olympic gold-medallist. The wall display articulated the exclusivity of the school through Usain Bolt’s personalised message to ISG, and also portrayed ISG sports as elite and high-calibre. The school’s Athletics Department was dedicated towards facilitating both international and local sporting events for student athletes. This dedication was also regularly expressed in the school’s promotional channels, including the school website, whereby ISG expressed a dedication to not only compete at a “local level” but also to host “high-level international school competitions in Europe” each year. Local competitions, in this case, were juxtaposed against ‘international’ competitions in relation to calibre—describing the international school competitions as ‘high-­ level’. The level can refer to the quality of facilities or the quality of play— this is unclear. However when looking at the quality of play between 2012–2016, ISG teams did not necessarily out-perform local teams, with the exception of basketball.

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The elite self-image was also repeated in local media. During my fieldwork, the ISG basketball team was described by a regional sports magazine as ‘in a class of its own’—describing the team’s success in the season, and discussing the national backgrounds and future plans of the team members. The article therefore focused beyond the sphere of sport and portrayed the ISG team as a ‘league’ or ‘class’ of its own, in reference to their basketball performance, but also significantly, to their education and international mobility. The article stated that after they graduate, these students would ‘go out into the world’ for university study. The image the article portrays how ISG’s exclusivity is illustrated by the public outside of the institution. The range of nationalities and cultural backgrounds of the team members was written about in a positive manner, and the fact that they would leave Germany was described as a form of romanticised globe-trotting. Public acknowledgement of the school as providing elite education, and talented athletes, reinforces the notion that the school’s exceptionalism is coupled with its ‘internationality’. Significantly, the article was later posted on the school website to promote its wider athletics programme. Another example of how the school was illustrated in the local media comes from ISG’s tennis team. This team travelled internationally to compete, like all the sports teams at ISG.  The ISG tennis team was coached by a local, privately-owned tennis school in the area. This tennis school’s website regularly posted small articles about the ISG team, which worked to promote the business. Images used included ISG students posing with the German flag along with others posing with medals in their mouths (mirroring Olympic Games medallists). This sports competition, which took place on another international school campus involving five international schools, was illustrated, documented and promoted online as a high-calibre, ‘international’ tournament. The documentation of the event involved rhetoric which mirrors that of articles about world championships and Olympians—aiding in the production of the school’s reputation as elite, exclusive and also significantly, high-performing. Loosely translated, it stated: [ISG] won ISST, the competition for international schools in Europe. There were five schools left from five different countries—Zurich, London,

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The Hague, Paris and [ISG], after Brussels was unable to attend in the last minute due to issues at the airport. The first match against Vienna was an outright win; however the match against the home team, Zurich, was significantly more difficult.

The article speaks of the schools as referring to the nearest city in which they were located—which suggests they represented the city for this particular sport. While this discourse is heavily present within international schools, the tennis school may have continued it for local exposure and its own market-driven image. The ISG tennis team did not play local teams in their season, however it was nonetheless portrayed here as representing the large nearby host city, and sometimes even Germany in ‘international’ sporting competitions. This tennis company was able to utilise this cultural practice from the international school system and its global imaginary, to market itself in a way that held true to the international school network, but could (conveniently) be interpreted by locals in a slightly different manner. The exclusivity of such ‘international’ events is maintained through the international school network’s boundary reinforcement. Both participants and observers at the ISG track and field meet, for example, were exclusively community members. In fact, these boundaries were tested on the final day of the event, where it was discovered by an ISG ‘housing’ family that one of the teams had included athletes who were not all international school students. It was reported, and the team was disqualified. Most importantly, the response in the stadium, where I was sitting, was very negative—observers using words like ‘scandal’ and ‘violation’ and saying, ‘someone needs to be fired’ to describe the situation. In this particular instance, I felt the closeness of the larger international school community as a whole. Many parents attending these events had travelled separately (and internationally) to attend their children’s event. The exclusivity and isolation of the international school network as highlighted by my casual conversations with these parents in the bleachers. I did not get the sense that these parents (mostly mothers) were necessarily overly ambitious, or competitive. Rather, it seemed as though they travelled to the events in small groups, with their friends, as a social activity with other mothers

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who shared a mutual interest in travel and to support their children. Many parents knew of students from other teams through their own relocation experiences between international schools. The involvement in international school activities (both curricular and extra-curricular) for expatriates is therefore high, and impacts the construction and maintenance of ‘community’ as well.

Some Concluding Remarks The networks through which institutions and community members operate are widespread, and thus quite literally ‘global’. They play an essential role in the reproduction of the global imaginary of international school communities. The features of ‘global citizenship’, as shaped by this imaginary, are visible across the international school system and its conjoining body of networks. As seen, large organisations like CIS and ISS help shape and reconstruct the international school sector through various forms of accreditation, recruitment, and professional development provision. These networks build invaluable connections that facilitate international mobility, learning opportunities, and support. They provide quality assurance measures which affirm institutional legitimacy within the network and the respective host country, and that reassure parents that they are investing in a formally recognised international school that is globally connected with others. At the same time, international school networks are closely regulated through membership processes, which influence the level of institutional and individual diversity. The educational market plays a significant role in how these boundaries are reconstructed within the networks. This transforms the enormous potential of ‘globality’ as an ideological, aspirational symbol for inclusivity, into a form of ‘globality’ that is packaged for consumption. This impacts the recruitment, accreditation, professional development, migration patterns into higher education, and mobility within the respective host nation. Therefore, while networks build connections that develop the sector and allow it to progress, they are also exclusive by maintaining boundaries which help to reinforce the

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characteristics that affirm and legitimise a strong community of practice that deems itself as globally-oriented. The global network of international schools plays a vital role in facilitating inter-organisational mobility and development, whilst promoting a ‘global’ orientation, which is interpreted, materialised and practiced on an institutional level. However, I argue that the global orientation of these networks is both inclusive and exclusive; it involves both connecting and boundary-drawing; it creates members and nonmembers—insiders and outsiders. Each school will have its own particular position within its own series of networks that will help shape the culture of the school. Therefore, I recommend a regular examination of how ideas, practices, discourses, and norms and transmit through the networks into the schools. This involves questioning whether a community can be truly mobile, if it only transitions through particular networks. Significantly: • To what extent does the school engage with alternative networks, outside the traditional international school system, to develop ideas and enhance diversity? • To what extent can the individual school become involved with host country educational networks and associations that would encourage a diversification of ideas, professional development, recruitment and connectivity? • How can the school’s engagement with the local community, institutions and networks positively contribute to the global imaginary? ISG’s involvement with the Sportverein network is one great example of how schools can transcend the traditional international school network towards developing new spaces where intercultural engagement can take place, as a commitment to global citizenship. Where the international school tournaments, like ISST in the case of ISG, indeed were opportunities for intercultural engagement and to establish friendships from within the network, competing against (or with) local teams, with local rules, norms and conventions, can be framed and promoted as a demonstration of global citizenship that encourages more diversity. At ISG, these efforts were very often overshadowed by the appeal of

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international travel, elite venues, and excitement of representing the symbols of the city or country where the school is located, when abroad. This overshadowing was illuminated further by the ways in which ‘international’ tournaments were portrayed and celebrated, as opposed to local ones. During my fieldwork, I interviewed Russ, who had been employed at ISG for decades. He told me about his experiences observing ISG’s development over the years—stating that leadership plays an important role in reconstructing each international school’s position towards the development of new networks—particularly in relation to the host country: Russ: It changes very much with whoever is Head of School. At the moment, we are a little bit of a ghetto. Many international schools are very much like this, where they separate themselves away from the local community. We did have one Head of School that was here for about 10 years, that really forged links with the local community. He was very proactive in that area, but the last few Heads of School, none of them were able to speak German, and none of them seem to have the desire to form links with the local community. Heather: What kind of links did he form? Russ: Well, he encouraged the setting up of the Sportverein, which then proceeded to form contact with the German sports leagues. It was difficult for the Athletic Department to find competition—to be travelling 4 to 5 hours to play a game away is ridiculous. So the Sportverein was created which enabled this competition to take place, and we expanded that rather rapidly. Within 2 years, we had 36 local teams operating within our Sportverein network.

Russ’ testimony highlights the role of leadership in its important stance towards the inclusion of the local community as an asset towards networking and community building. It is very common for Heads of School to rotate through the international school network—taking posts at various international schools, and thus building a repertoire of international school experiences in different countries. This has many benefits for the system, however the drawback, as pointed out by Russ, is that they very often do not speak the host country language, or have prior experiences living in the country. This impacts the direction of the school; the

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symbolic value it places on the ‘local’ as relevant to the ‘global’; and the extent to which the school builds local connections. A demonstration of these ‘local’ skills and cultural knowledge by the school’s leadership team would not only symbolically highlight the school’s recognition of its value, but it would also give agency to those in these leadership positions in personally forging new relationships and connections within the country for the school. The international school network symbolically places value on those bringing cultural knowledge and skills from outside the immediate local, which shapes how the ‘global’ is imagined. Following this, the demonstration and evidencing of a commitment towards ‘global citizenship’ for accreditation purposes should be carefully scrutinised, to ensure the ‘local’ becomes a part of this imaginary. As seen, even though missions of developing and cultivating a global imaginary across the school system ideologically may appear inclusive and equitable, the ways in which they are interpreted, articulated and practiced ‘on the ground’ may be entirely different. Finally, it is worth investigating the extent to which these networks facilitate mobility beyond the international school network as community members transition in and out of them. The next chapter will discuss this in more detail.

References Aristidou, D. (2012). Creating Contact Zones: ISTA Festivals and the Practice of WE. International Schools Journal, 31(2), 18–27. Bailey, L., & Gibson, M. T. (2019). International School Principals: Routes to Headship and Key Challenges of their Role. Educational Management Administration & Leadership. [Online]. Retrieved August 2020, from https:// doi.org/10.1177/1741143219884686. Bourdieu, P. (1977). Outline of a Theory of Practice. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Bourdieu, P., & Wacquant, L. J. D. (1992). An Invitation for Reflexive Sociology. Cambridge: Polity Press.

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Canterford, G. (2003). Segmented Labour Markets in International Schools. Journal for Research in International Education, 2(1), 47–66. Canterford, G. (2009). Segmented Labour Markets in International Schools. EdD. Thesis, University of Bath. CIS. (2020a). International Accreditation. [Online]. Retrieved June 2020, from https://www.cois.org/for-­schools/international-­accreditation. CIS. (2020b). Accreditation Cycle. [Online]. Retrieved July 2020, from https:// www.cois.org/for-­schools/international-­accreditation/cycle. CIS. (2020c). For Consultants and Supporting Organizations. [Online]. Retrieved July 2020, from https://www.cois.org/for-­consultants-­and-­supporting-­ organizations. CIS. (2020d). Membership Overview. [Online]. Retrieved July 2020, from https://www.cois.org/colleges-­and-­universities/membership-­overview. CIS. (2020e). Membership Directory. [Online]. Retrieved July 2020, from https://www.cois.org/membership-­directory. Cohen, A. (1985). The Symbolic Construction of Community. London: Routledge. DOSB. (2016). Kurzporträt des Deutschen Olympischen Sportbundes. [Online]. Retrieved July 2020, from https://www.cois.org/for-­consultants-­and­supporting-­organizations. Fail, H., Thompson, J., & Walker, G. (2004). Belonging, Identity and Third Culture Kids: Life Histories of Former International School Students. Journal of Research in International Education, 3(3), 319–338. Grimshaw, T., & Sears, C. (2008). ‘Where am I from?’ ‘Where do I belong?’: The Negotiation and Maintenance of Identity by International School Students. Journal of Research in International Education, 7(1), 259–278. Hayden, M. (2006). Introduction to International Education: International Schools and their Communities. London: Sage. Hayden, M. (2011). Transnational Spaces of Education: The Growth of the International School Sector. Globalisation, Societies and Education, 9(2), 211–224. Ingersoll, M. (2019). Uncommon Knowledge: International Schools as Elite Educational Enclosures. In K. J. Saltman & A. J. Means (Eds.), The Wiley Handbook of Global Educational Reform (1st ed., pp.  259–281). Wiley-Blackwell. ISC. (2020). Higher Education. [Online]. Retrieved July 2020, from https:// www.iscresearch.com/higher-­education. ISS. (2020). International School Services. [Online]. Retrieved June 2020, from https://www.iss.edu/.

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ISS Schrole Advantage. (2020). Teaching Abroad: Hints and Tips for Teachers Considering Overseas Jobs. [Online]. Retrieved August 2020, from https:// teaching.schrole.edu.au/. Maguth, B., & Hilburn, J. (2015). The State of Global Education: Learning with the World and Its People. New York: Routledge. Michetti, A., Madrid, R., & Cofino, K. (2015). Learning from 21st Century International Schools: Global Education that is Action Oriented, Globally Connected, and Inclusive. In B. M. Maguth & J. Hilburn (Eds.), The State of Global Education: Learning with the World and Its People (pp.  155–173). New York: Routledge. Ota, D.  W. (2014). Safe Passage: How Mobility Affects People and What International Schools Should Do about It. Great Britain: Summertime Publishing. Pearce, R. (2011). When Borders Overlap: Composite Identities in Children in International Schools. Journal of Research in International Education, 10(2), 154–173. Perez-Amurao, A.  L., & Sunanta, S. (2020). They are ‘Asians, just like us’. Sojourn: Journal of Social Issues in Southeast Asia, 35(1), 108–137. Persaud, W. H. (2018). Liberal Forms of Exclusion in International Education: A Postcolonial Reading. Interdisciplinary Studies Journal, 18(2), 257–286. Schwindt, E. (2003). The Development of a Model for International Education with Special Reference to the Role of Host Country Nationals. Journal of Research in International Education, 10(1), 71–86. Tanu, D. (2018). Growing Up in Transit: The Politics of Belonging at an International School. New York & Oxford: Berghahn. van Werven, I. (2015). Preparing Globally Competent Teachers for the International School Context. In M.  Hayden, J.  Levy, & J.  J. Thompson (Eds.), The SAGE Handbook of Research in International Education (pp. 298–308). London: Sage. Wechsler, A. (2017). The International School Surge. The Atlantic, June.

6 Transitioning Through the International School System

Expat Transitions into International Schools The international school experience often begins long before the expat family relocates and long before the start of the school term. At the International School of Germany (ISG), the Parent Teacher Organisation (PTO) established an informal point of contact for anyone with questions or concerns prior to their arrival. The organisation offered a range of advice and tips, like how to find a home or how to register with authorities upon arrival. Several women I interviewed at ISG told me that they had been contacted by PTO members prior to arriving, and that this had been very useful and comforting before and during their transition process into Germany. It also incentivised them to later become involved with the PTO themselves. This included Diane, who told me about her relocation experience with her family: “So our story is we come from the U.S. We have a home there. My husband’s company got bought out and so he was looking for work for about a year and a half when an opportunity came up. And so it was like, do we want to stay and just be comfortable, or do we have an adventure? And so

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it seemed like the right time, and all the pieces sort of fit. We really had the idea that this was an adventure. And if things didn’t work out, then we could always go home”.

Many of the expatriate families I got to know during my time at ISG spoke of similar reasons for relocating: they found themselves ready for an ‘adventure’ or ‘something new’ and wanted their family to experience another culture. Most were in positions in which the relocation would not be a financial burden; many had homes in their passport country and had the financial ability to return at any time. This position seems to have framed the experience from the onset as one in which they were in control of the migration process. These patterns mirror the increase in alternative privileged migration patterns that have been increasing over the past 20 years, which involve other factors aside from professional reasons including marriage and relationships, education, and lifestyle preferences.1 Diane’s initial transition to Germany was eased by the PTO advice, and she explained how finding a house was relatively easy, as the PTO had provided lots of information on expat neighbourhoods near the school prior to her arrival. This advice had been so useful, that her family had found a house within a day of searching the recommended area. Tasks such as getting mobile phone contracts, setting up cable TV and internet, having a kitchen installed in the new house, and even the day-­ to-­day routine of shopping proved difficult. All the things she had felt had been relatively straight forward in her home country became surprisingly challenging in Germany: “Everything was backwards! I think my first 6  months was especially upended because I had expected everything to be EFFICIENT and work really well, and I thought Germans were going to be cold. When actually, I found the people here warm and generous, and NOTHING worked! (laughs) It was an upending of expectations. The first month was horrible, the first 3 months were really bad, and 6 months in, I was, you know, practically on the brink of tears when grocery shopping or having to pass my  See for example, Scott (2006); Kurotani (2007); Gardner (2008); Leinonen (2012); and Korpela (2014). 1

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driver’s test after 33 years of driving, or you know, all of the above. And, you know, it just took a healthy dose of WAKE UP: ‘Don’t you feel sorry for yourself! It’s not like you’re in a dangerous place, and look at the positives! So the positives are: it’s clean, the people are nice, and you are in control. If you really hate it, you really CAN go home. So enjoy it while you’re here’. That worked for me. I refuse to wallow in self-pity”.

Expectation management was one theme that regularly came up in conversations with internationally mobile members of the ISG community. Many, like Diane, came with a set of expectations and assumptions about their new life ahead—arriving with certain expectations that were based on both positive and negative stereotypes about German culture and society. Particularly in cases like Diane’s—where it was the first time for the family to move abroad—the shock of being unable to navigate the host country due to language and cultural barriers was underestimated. “I was trying to figure everything out: putting up the Wi-Fi in my house, all the stuff that needs to happen. It’s extra time-consuming because it’s all in another language. And it all breaks! (laughs) We had one point where we had no telephone or Wi-Fi for three months. THREE months! And we couldn’t figure out why, and they couldn’t figure out how to fix it. In the U.S., if someone didn’t have Wi-Fi access after like ten minutes they would freak out! They’d go with another carrier! There would be six carriers that would instantly sign you up and provide for you. It was not like that here. No internet for three months! That’s why it was so difficult in the beginning, all of that stuff.”

Some of Diane’s expectations were, in part, built on comparing how things worked in the U.S. to Germany. While she had embarked on an international adventure, she still sought and expected certain features of her old lifestyle back in the U.S. This was a very common testimony amongst ISG expatriate women, as they adjusted to their new lives in the first few months. The international school community provided a space in which expatriate families could speak about their transitions into Germany with others who had gone through similar experiences.

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Diane had been very proactive in getting involved at the school right from the beginning. She had been very engaged with her children’s old school in the U.S., and was determined to have a similar experience at ISG: “I did a lot of volunteer work at our old school—fundraising and all kinds of stuff, which again is a very typical American kind of thing, that if you’re a stay at home mother especially, you’re just at the school all the time. And so that seemed very natural, and I also knew it would be a great way to make friends, not be lonely and connect with the community”.

ISG’s PTO had very similar functions, including fundraising and volunteer work for the school. Active members were unanimously mothers— most of whom were stay-at-home expats. All PTO members I interviewed at ISG told me they had become involved with the organisation to meet people and get involved with the community. It had a very important social function within the international school. Diane’s involvement with the PTO later became a leadership position, in which she helped organise pre-arrival and arrival information, materials, and activities for newly arriving families—something she was very passionate about. “After my first year, there was an opening for this position. There was an American woman that lives down the block from me. So she and I decided, ‘ok let’s do it together!’ And the nice thing about working together is we had only been here one year, and we could see the things that had worked really well, introducing new families, and then the areas that we could sort of pump up and improve, and it was exciting for us to have our own thing to improve upon and we want to hopefully make it better this year for new families”.

The PTO therefore acted to an extent as a cultural broker of the host nation in the minds of the incoming families. This is important, because there was very limited German representation in ISG’s PTO. Therefore, right from the very beginning, expatriates were welcomed and admitted into a social network run nearly entirely by other expatriates. They were able to bond over common experiences moving internationally, their

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trials and tribulations as foreigners in Germany, and very often, the experience of leaving family, friends and even a career behind to support their spouse’s professional decisions and career. However, these bonds were also created due to the specific composition of the PTO, which seemed to attract a very particular ‘type’ of expatriate parent, as Diane explained further: “One of the interesting things that comes of the PTO is that, (pause) in the U.S. you would have the SAME mothers doing things, putting in their time into the PTO over and over again. There were a lot more working parents there, in comparison to ISG, so you would think, ‘okay, she can’t be here because she’s working’. They didn’t have time. But here at ISG, it’s much more difficult frankly to look around the room and see the Anglo-­ Saxons at the meetings, heading the committees and doing these things and thinking wow, it would be great to have some more input from other groups”.

Right from the beginning, she had noticed some significant cultural differences in the parental roles within the international school community, and the lack of diversity within active members of the PTO. It had a strong Anglo-cultural influence, which was also linked to the national and cultural hierarchies discussed in Chap. 4. This ultimately impacted the ways in which the PTO’s activities were organised and run, for whom resources were catered, and why certain groups were less visible within active roles. Diane described her new role of helping expatriates adjust: Heather: So now this role, what do you do? Diane: So for new families coming in, the school takes care of the kids. But the moms are sort of left floundering. How do you go to the grocery store? We take them to the grocery store. How do you do any one of the myriad of things getting settled into the culture? Our job is to get moms acquainted with stuff outside of school. How do you find a great hair place? All these little things. How to take the train? We have had three different tours that introduces them to the town. Yeah, just lots of little coffees and things— each grade has a coffee hour, each town has its own coffee hour and each nationality group has its own coffee hour. So there are three different ways for new families to continue to touch base that way, but we wanted to have

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something really extra special for new families. So: packets! From the day they arrive, they have an orientation the day before school and we say ‘here’s a packet with tons of information that will help you figure out how things work’. And email—if you have a question, like, ‘My car just broke down. How do I get it fixed?’ So we say ‘Ok, your town representative is [Town A]’. Or ‘if you’re near [Town B], I’ll tell you the guy I go to’. That kind of thing, to make life easier. So that really works out well. Heather: How do you know all of these things? Diane: Trial and error. And there are some moms—there’s one American mom, she’s the research queen! She researches everything, knows where everything is happening. If we have an event, she goes out the day before or a couple days before to test the experience with her family. It’s a bit over the top but I told her, ‘You’d be so fantastic because you are a store of information!’ but she didn’t want to do [the PTO role], but said she’s more than happy to share information. So I guess it’s just tapping into available resources.

While the PTO provided this support for expatriate families, it seems as though it was inadvertently limiting them to the expatriate’s experiences (i.e. word of mouth) and bank of resources in how to navigate German society, without much local input. The tight expatriate social circles helped mothers understand and deal with their challenges raising children in a foreign country. The PTO’s make-up, influenced by institutional structures, created a differentiation between the ‘expatriates’ (us) and the ‘locals’ (them): In these spaces, it was acceptable to not have many local friends; know how to navigate through local society, habits and customs; or to have a perfect knowledge of German, because others understood how difficult it was. The support protected women from facing significant vulnerabilities, and in this way played a positive role in their adjustment into the community. The expatriate groups at ISG also connected its members to other English-­ speaking, Japanese-speaking, Swedish-speaking (etc.) communities outside ISG, which extended mobility within expatriate circles around the region. Therefore, expatriates were exposed to more expatriate social circles through their ISG community membership than any local ones. Thus the ‘adventurous’ side of transitioning had particular limitations: even though the PTO helped ease the relocation experience, it seemed

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more could have been done to help families build connections with the local outside of the school. This would have involved a greater emphasis on including ISG’s German community members into the PTO, as a strategy towards enhancing these orientation activities and resources even further.

Stereotyping the ‘local’ During my fieldwork, I met with Fernanda, who also held a leadership position within the PTO. When I met up with her on campus for our interview, she gave me a tour of the school’s ‘stash’ of materials for these incoming families. She led me to a large storage room in the cellar of one of the buildings on campus, where there were large shelves with brochures, pamphlets, ISG t-shirts, coffee mugs, key chains, and pens, among other paraphernalia, that were distributed to incoming families during their first weeks at ISG. The gesture was meant to make new families feel welcome and begin to establish a sense of belonging within the international school community, and hopefully their new country of residence. We stood in the storage room discussing how these materials were used to help families make the transition into the region. One of the main, regularly distributed resources of information was the school magazine, which offered advice to incoming families. It featured business adverts for English-speaking, and British/American/Australian credentialed healthcare professionals including: ‘British-trained’ paediatricians, ‘Australian dentists’, and ‘American Personal Trainers’. Most of this information was geared for expats from English-speaking countries in the Global North. Moreover, part of this ‘stash’ included all sorts of information about Germany, including particular resources, services, suggestions, and written accounts about the country and its people prior to and after arrival during a ‘New Families Orientation’. Fernanda explained that during the first weeks, new parents were introduced to the organisation’s social groups, networks and activities, and received English-medium pamphlets about the local region—including a 100-page handbook called Facts at your Fingertips: a Quick Guide to your New Environment. This handbook

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was provided to all new expatriate families at ISG. Described as an “orientation manual” for the local area, it had been authored by a coalition of international school PTOs in Germany, including ISG. The handbook was written by and for international school expats. It covered a wide range of topics including, ‘Housing’, ‘Schools’, ‘Health’, ‘Around the House’ (appliances, waste and recycling, etc.), ‘Driving and Transportation’, ‘Shopping’, ‘Reaching Out’ (churches, clubs, sports, etc.), ‘Leisure’ (entertainment, language schools, festivals, etc.), and ‘Literature’. The handbook painted a general picture of the obstacles expatriates were to face, and introduced them to the region with facts, statistics, images, and links to useful expatriate-oriented websites. Again, a lot of this information was passively written for an English-speaking, Western audience. The handbook also made a series of statements about Germany and ‘Germans’—referring often to ‘the Germans’ as the ‘outsider’ (them—the other) and the expatriate reader as the insider (us). Such representations labelled ‘Germans’ as a separate category for the reader, and as distinctly outside the boundaries of the school community. The following passage provides an illustrative example: “Germans do not take or give compliments easily. They are very outspoken about giving their opinions, sometimes in a rather blunt or seemingly rude way. [They] are known for their peevishness (granteln) and may give you the impression that they are in a bad mood. Do not be affronted; make a retorting joke, as they do, in fact, have a lot of humor.”

This handbook extract identifies a number of boundaries the international school communities in this region constructed. As a manual endorsed and distributed by a network of international schools in the region, the reader is likely to assume that the unfavourable depictions are objective and true. The passage also speaks to a number of stereotypes that circulated among the expatriate community of the school. This included the perception that the Germans were unfriendly and had no sense of humour. The handbook not only reproduced these discourses and cast the Germans as distinctly different to the expats, it also assumed

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a shared cultural code among the readership about what is considered to be ‘funny’, ‘rude’, and ‘blunt’. The content of the handbook was similar to the themes that were often discussed within expat social circles at ISG. These sentiments came out in formal interviews with expats including: “The culture here is not innately friendly, it’s just not, and you’re kind of blown away by that.”

And “It’s the attitude, very cut and dry, black or white. There’s no optimistic window or alternative. I know I’m just generalising, but just something I struggle with is that I find that here you have to be PERFECT. If you’re not perfect—if you’re driving and you have to slow down because you simply can’t find the bank—the tiny little bank—and you’re not familiar with the tiny little village, people are gesturing to you immediately if you do something that’s not 100 percent EFFICIENT. There’s no tolerance. I struggle with that.”

Daily routines, such as driving and shopping in Germany were often described in a similar fashion amongst ISG expat community members. Mothers were generally the ones in charge of navigating German society while their husbands worked. They ran most of the household-related errands, which involved interacting with the public. These exchanges were frequently shared and discussed when mothers socialised (particularly in the PTO social groups)—reiterating moments during which they were made to feel vulnerable or embarrassed in German society. Sharing funny, emotional, disappointing and frustrating experiences of living in Germany and engaging with ‘Germans’ allowed for mothers to gain a support network, find a sense of belonging amongst a group of fellow expats, and find personal solace and validation of the challenges faced as a foreigner in Germany. At the same time, these discussions cultivating generally negative sentiments towards ‘Germans’ and life in Germany seemed to also play a role in expat perceptions towards host nationals attending ISG, which continually reproduced the global imaginary and the polarisation of the ’local’ and ‘global’.

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Trying to ‘integrate’ Many expats claimed that they had sought socialisation opportunities through the school after integration attempts into the German world had ‘failed’. This struggle was expressed to me by Fernanda: “So first of all, I moved here in January. So that was already a big challenge because I had moved in the middle of the school year. Then I attended the PTO coffee mornings and that was very helpful, I got lots of good information, but my goal at the time was to really concentrate and focus on my German lessons, which helped me a lot, to get by. Not to just feel isolated. I wanted to engage with the ISG community, but equally I wanted to experience [the local area] and really, you know, be in touch with Germans and such. So that was, you know, my initial goal. But then after the first month had gone by, I had decided that I had to come to the school more often to meet more people, because I was not getting to know many people outside of ISG. You know I would be trying to speak very little German when I was going shopping, or out and about, however after the first month had gone, I thought, ‘okay, I really need to make an effort to go to the school’ and that’s where I met most of my friends who were really [coming from a place where] I came from. So I guess that was the challenge. You know, the initial—(pause) I had this anticipation that I would be okay just attending German lessons and venturing out there and when the reality came after one month I thought, ‘I’m feeling isolated, I need to go maybe to the school to get to know other parents. They’re going through the same situation as myself.”

This sentiment of trying to learn German initially was also was expressed by Diane, who also had a very strong intention to become active in the local host community, and to learn German quickly and proficiently. She told me, “It’s really important, you need to study the language if you live in a country.” However, recognising significant cultural and language barriers, led her to become more integrated within the more comfortable English-speaking environment of the international school. Expat adults across the ISG community regularly expressed to me how they had underestimated how challenging learning German was, particularly as members of an international school community that was English-­ medium. Upon their arrival, many had been referred to Volkshochschulen

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(public adult education centres) which offer German language and ‘integration’ classes for foreigners. Several ISG women I had spoken to had at least attempted these classes at some point during their residency. In fact, some tried more than once taking German classes in these centres. However, as time passed, nearly all agreed that it had become too difficult, in the end—particularly as their children became increasingly involved in the international school community. Significantly, expatriates were in a privileged position to be able to choose whether learning the local language was appropriate for them. Neary all expats I spoke to at ISG were in the position in which one partner was the ‘stay-at-home’ parent, while the other worked professionally in Germany. The partner in the ‘stay-at-home’ role did not seek local employment, as they generally were not financially pressured and could provide that support to their families. Moreover, their social networks often unanimously comprised fellow expats. In Germany, English language education is prioritised, and in many regions begins around age 6. One of the most common responses I received from international school community members was that they found it very challenging to find opportunities to practice their German with ‘locals’, who would often switch to English for their own practice. The English-speaking international school community therefore also provided opportunities to learn (or become more proficient) in English for expat parents from non-English speaking countries, which was useful to navigate German society anyways.2 Many just focused on this—as with English skills, they could technically navigate the local ‘expat’ spaces, which for many, sufficed. Despite these advantages, the glaring reality was that ISG expats nonetheless had to engage with German society to some extent. While they acknowledged their attempts at learning German and building a German social network, they also knew that they had the choice to distance themselves from the vulnerabilities they experienced while navigating local society. The element of choice is significant, because while local society often scrutinises the ‘integration’ attempts made by certain ‘migrant’ groups, privileged ‘expats’ are largely left out of that debate (Croucher 2012).  Kautzsch (2014) highlights how 55–60% of Germans can hold a conversation in English.

2

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Activities for Expats ISG nonetheless provided some opportunities for new adult members of the community to learn more about the local society and culture. This was mostly organised by the PTO.  Fernanda explained that the PTO arranged city tours, ski trips conducted in English, cross-cultural seminars about Germany, and shopping trips for local products: “We also provide a Dirndl3 shopping trip. So if you haven’t had the opportunity to buy a Dirndl it’s a great opportunity to go and buy a Dirndl or Lederhosen4 and you know, new moms feel like, ‘Okay! Now I belong here!”

As seen in previous chapters, the notion of ‘belonging’ plays a strong role in international school communities, which is sometimes expressed through the performance of national representation based on cultural heritage, like dressing up in traditional costumes in community rituals. The Dirndl shopping trip was, as Fernanda pointed out, a symbolic gesture towards establishing an initial form of connectivity to the region. While the PTO undoubtedly acknowledged the need for mothers to find a sense of belonging to their new country of residence by organising a series of excursions and activities, they eventually faded into becoming increasingly more isolated occurrences. Moreover, these activities seemed to be regularly offered (the same city tour, the same Dirndl outlet) during particular times of year to accommodate new members only—running mostly in late-August and September. ISG’s rituals for incoming expatriates, like Dirndl shopping, helped produce group cohesion through the shared consumption of ‘local exotica’. Dressing up in regional costumes and attending cultural events work to potentially ease the tensions experienced between social spaces. Moreover, those participating in symbolic practices constructed their own individual meanings from the same event (Cohen 1985)—therefore, where Dirndl shopping for Fernanda was based on establishing  A Dirndl is a traditional dress worn in some parts of Germany—particularly on special occasions.  Lederhosen are traditional leather trousers worn in some parts of Germany—particularly on special occasions. 3 4

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connectivity to the host country, for others, it may have been about establishing bonds with the in-group through the shared activity, or even something else. Once social networks had been established through these initiation exercises, and the formation of nationality, area, and grade groups had occurred, ISG expatriates tended to partake in community events which took place on campus, like the Feste (festivals) discussed in Chap. 4. Participation in these groups led to other activities within the school community. Faye, a member of staff explained: “That year there had been an influx of new parents that came to the school and these new parents joined this tennis group to meet other parents and so it happened that they got to know each other because their kids were all in the same classes.”

At ISG, the adult recreation league for ISG parents and staff was set up to further encourage community involvement, provide an accessible, English-medium activity programme, and facilitate a degree of circumvention around local sports and recreation leagues and programmes. International schools can have the ability to create expatriate spaces outside of the school campus, which allows members to participate in activities found locally, but within the comfort of the school’s culture and target language. Therefore, the international school plays an important role in the construction of social groups and boundaries and the reproduction of the global imaginary of the community within the host country. It brought groups of members to a number of recreational locales in the immediate area, facilitated social networks and allowed for them to bond through shared experiences. The adult recreation league was exclusively run for current and former fee-paying members. The ISG community could therefore experience the ‘local’, however in a regulated, comfortable and managed way. During my fieldwork, I became very interested in these adult recreation leagues which were run through the school’s Sportverein,5 after  A Verein is an association or club. A Sportverein is a sports club. At ISG, the German word was used to reference this by its community members. 5

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discovering the importance of sport in the community. I found it was one of the only arenas in which husbands played more of a visible role in the school community. Tennis and skiing were the most popular recreational activities for expatriate parents. The ISG Sportverein facilitated these activities with a private racquet club in the neighbouring town (the ISG campus did not have indoor tennis courts), and encouraged fee-paying members to join as a social activity. While many of the recreational activities for ISG were conducted off-campus, the group of participants played strictly amongst themselves. The Sportverein also hosted a number of former students and parents, who had continued to maintain their social networks through this club long after tuition-paying membership ended. This is an example of how social ties are maintained, and the global imaginary is reproduced beyond the years of active membership. While the Sportverein at ISG had former school community members, it did not have any ‘outside’ members of the general public. This reinforced the exclusivity of the community, and the longevity of international school community membership. It also evidences the role the school had for expats who had permanently settled in the region. Susanne, a former tuition-paying member of the community explained this to me in an interview: “When my children were attending the school, I was very involved in all of the programmes of the school and doing volunteer work on campus and getting involved in these adult groups and German speaking class. I knew quite a few people from school. I felt very engaged…I have friends that are now alumni, friends that are teachers and administrative staff, but what really got me engaged with the today-and-now community was when my husband and I joined the [ski league] and I was able to sit on the [ISG] bus and able to take ski lessons every week with the parents”.

She mentioned the role of the Sportverein and the ski league which took place every weekend—establishing a social network for her even after her children had graduated. Conversely, when I asked her if she had been able to establish any social networks over the past ten years with the host society, she responded:

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“I have difficulty integrating. I have a familiarity, yes, I know where I am going. I have my driver’s license that I got over ten years ago, I know the rules of the road that I wouldn’t know otherwise, but as far as being able to communicate effectively—I have difficulty with the language. I think I would be very interested in joining a local Sportverein if I could speak the language. I don’t have anyone I can nudge and say, ‘could you translate that for me?’ I really suffer from not understanding. Language is the only reason why I don’t do it”.

This is another very common sentiment within international school communities—where members become fully integrated within the school community to build a social network locally. However, the experience of building networks outside the school can be extremely challenging—particularly as strong ties to the school are built. For Susanne, the biggest challenge was that after her children graduated, she no longer had that formal link to the school. Nonetheless, while she was indeed able to stay within the adult recreation group and create bonds with younger parents with children attending the international school, she still remained relatively distanced from local society and the school. One of the single most contributing factors to this was language barriers. International schools reproduce a global imaginary in which English is valued as the central target language intended for international mobility, however for those expat families that remain behind, it can be challenging to integrate themselves into local society without some of the skills that are required and valued outside of the international school boundaries. While Susanne had the best intentions to become involved and integrated, the one thing that held her back was her lack of language capabilities, which her engagement with the international school community had facilitated for many years. Susanne’s circumstance is not unusual for international school community members who remain in the host country. She told me that she was “lonely and a little bored” in our interview together, saying that she felt uncomfortable at times, participating in ISG’s adult social circles, where the majority of members were young parents—some even twenty years younger than she was. Still, the school provided a safe and familiar social outlet where she could participate in local events and functions in

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an English-speaking environment and social network in which she felt most comfortable. Moving and living abroad with a family can cause strains on marriage (McNulty 2015). Power dynamics within familial structures change almost instantaneously, with spouses changing careers; children learning the local language faster than their parent(s); identity and sense of belonging being challenged; and expectations changing drastically. Though gradually changing, it is typically the mother that follows the spouse and becomes a full-time stay-at-home parent in order to support the relocation and subsequent adjustment for the family. Many ISG women I interviewed admitted that they had given up very successful careers to enable their husbands to accept a position abroad to further their careers, while they took on the ‘trailing spouse’ role. Careers forgone included a law practice, a teaching career, a top position in a Fortune 500 company, an art studio, and a medical practice. Over time, a handful of these women expressed degrees of resentment towards their partners. Most of the time, these sentiments expressed to me were based on the challenges experienced of independently discovering and navigating the local society with language and cultural barriers standing in the way. Expat ‘trailing spouses’ are largely responsible for daily routines, including shopping, banking, going to the post office, making doctor appointments—they must discover how and where to access the best deals, find good restaurants and fun things to do for their families. They pick up their children from school or their bus stop; are responsible for attending meetings and activities at the school; and learn how to drive and navigate the traffic systems in the host country. The list goes on and on. It is therefore understandable and not very surprising how anti-local sentiment grows and how a growing unhappiness or discomfort encourages placing the blame on the host country and host society. Of course, the employed spouse (typically the husband) encounters their own set of challenges and pressures (see for example Beaverstock 2005; Devadason 2017). They hold an enormous amount of financial responsibility—including ensuring they are able to maintain their position within the host country, once the family has relocated. Expatriate professionals working in the host country are often also encouraged to learn the new language and acquaint themselves quickly to the new

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culture (including that of the professional world). Some of the ISG community expats spoke of being supported in this way by their companies—who facilitated language and intercultural communication classes for the professional. This again puts stress on the stay-at-home spouse, who might be the only one who does not receive regular support in this area. The dynamics relating to the acquisition of locally-oriented knowledge and skills is unending for any migrant family—all of which will be new pressures thrust onto what were typically stable family structures prior to the relocation. International schools play an important role in attempting to ease these pressures by providing as many comfortable, expatriate spaces as possible. A healthy social network is often vital in ensuring a family remains happy and successful during their time abroad. These attempts are received both positively and negatively. One conversation that stood out to me was with an American mother of two children in the elementary school. Similar to Diane’s experience, she told me that the school recommended a “neighbourhood with lots of Americans”, under the assumption that this was something that she had wanted prior to relocating to Germany. She told me that while it was a positive moving experience in the beginning—she was finding it increasingly frustrating to practice German and become involved in the German environment. The role of the school in the residential lives of expat families was therefore significant, even though in cases like this one, not entirely welcomed in the end. However, for other expatriate mothers, social networking through the school was a significant factor in building a positive internationally-­ mobile experience for the entire family. Without these ties, school counsellor Caroline argued, children were likely to become distressed on seeing their mother unhappy: “If the spouse is not working, they usually have had to give up their job to come here, and it’s in a foreign country and they don’t speak the language. There’s no support system, and they’ve left all their friends behind. It’s somewhat of an ignored group. And it still is. And it’s often unfortunately the moms, who have left their professions behind, so it doesn’t always happen like that, but that can be a real key factor in causing real issues for the

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kids. So it’s moms and their children, and if the mom is unhappy, the kids are unhappy…we tend to think the child is angry about coming, doesn’t want to be here, because they ‘don’t like Germany’, they ‘don’t like taking German’—things like that. So you put all those pieces together and find out what’s really happening at home”.

For Caroline, the anti-local sentiment also comes from the frustrations articulated at home by parents—often mothers—who have lost (even if temporary) their professional life, their friends and their ability to communicate and navigate the local area. For this reason, becoming involved in the international school’s provisions for adult members like the Sportverein and PTO was vitally important for the wellbeing of some of the mothers. Caroline’s reflections on her many years’ experience as an international school counsellor came out in conversations I had with some expat high school students at ISG, who reflected articulately and with great insight on their parents’ experiences relocating to Germany: Markus: The mothers just want to go back—straight away—even after 5 years—after so many years, mothers still want to go back. Dan: Yeah same with me because my dad lived here 2 years before we moved, and eventually we moved and my mum had to give up her job that she really loved and the first few months she hated it here, and just was not happy. But then she started to talk to a few mums in the school, and now she’s the British Rep at the school and really involved.

This exchange highlights how aware children are of their parents’ wellbeing, and the importance the school plays in building support networks— particularly for those parents who are not working, like Dan’s mother. These transitions are not just limited to internationally-mobile families. German parents at ISG experienced transitions as well, despite the fact that most of the PTO’s materials, activities and events tailored to expat experiences and transitions.

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German Families at ISG Towards the beginning of my fieldwork, the town in which ISG was located had just celebrated its 100 year anniversary by organising a large parade involving “just about everyone and everything that belongs to the city” (Local City Newspaper (translated)). It included sports clubs, schools, businesses, the fire brigade, theatre groups, and music bands. Nearly 6000 people were involved on the day of the event, in which a series of concerts, performers, eateries, and dance floors graced the streets of the town. Elisabeth, a member of staff at the school, had been born and raised in the local town. As an individual who had entered the ISG community only as an adult, but had known of the school for decades, she was particularly sensitive to the school’s lack of engagement with her community. When the event occurred, Elisabeth was a little upset that ISG had not been invited to the local event, stating in an interview: “All local schools participated. Why did no one ask us?” She explained that her son would have received his tuition paid for by the school, as children of full-time employees at ISG were granted tuition-­ free admission to the school. However, she had declined it, because she did not like how ISG was regarded locally, and she did not want her son too far removed from life in the town. She was disappointed in how the school distanced its community members from the local town, using the example of the town’s anniversary parade, which she perceived as a disservice to its members: “It’s not linked to the public community”. She told me that before she became involved with the international school, she used to see the “big ISG buses” enter the town each day, and that there was a local stigma against the school’s exclusivity. Elisabeth’s case was, in my experience, slightly unusual, as most members of staff were overjoyed to have their children attend ISG. However, her testimony raises the common issue of international schools often being perceived by their local host communities as detached, mysterious and isolated, which furthers the stigma of projecting a relatively unfavourable aura of elitism. Tanu (2014), Emenike and Plowright (2017), and Sander (2016)) report similar findings from their respective international school communities in which their research was conducted

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(Indonesia, Nigeria, and China, respectively). Moreover, I have discovered over the past decade that other regions in Germany refer to their local international school communities with terms like ‘Banksters’ (alluding to groupism, mystery and wealth) or in another region, as a ‘cult’ (referring to its inaccessibility, reclusiveness and distinct features). Elisabeth raised an issue that was expressed to me by a number of German parents at ISG: they argued that while the school offered an international, English-medium education, it steadily removed its community from the locality—including its German members. This was expressed as problematic for some parents, particularly those who wanted their children to remain in Germany after graduating from ISG. Another one of my participants, Hannah, expressed a similar sentiment regarding her two children attending elementary school at ISG. At that time, she was in the process of deliberating whether she should remove them from the school, because they had no ‘local’ friends. She found this particularly problematic, as an alumna of the school herself, because she claimed that after graduation, all of her friends left for universities or careers outside of Germany. She told me, “I was left here without any connectivity to [the town] and without any friends”. One year after this conversation, I found out that Hannah had indeed removed her children from ISG. At the time of Hannah’s graduation from ISG in the mid-1990s, the International Baccalaureate had not been widely accepted by German universities. For this reason, her classmates were pushed to attend universities in the U.S. or in the U.K., where the International Baccalaureate (IB) was more widely accepted as a qualification. However, even now, when German universities do accept the IB under certain conditions, many ISG students expressed fear that their German language skills were not good enough to attend them, and opted for universities outside of the country. In fact, one of ISG’s annual reports at the time of my fieldwork documented that 86% of its graduates were set to attend universities outside of the country, while 14% had been admitted onto university programmes in Germany. However, out of the four German universities listed, two were English-medium, private institutions. In another conversation I had with Martina, a German mother, she mentioned that she had enrolled her children in the ISG elementary school, but was planning on sending them to a German-medium school

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once they reached 5th grade. Martina felt that ISG’s elementary school programme (the IB’s Primary Years Programme (PYP)) was more ‘positive’ and ‘colourful’ than German primary schools in the region. However, like Hannah, she believed the isolation would later negatively impact her children’s relationship to their local society and culture. It is important to note however, that I also received a number of contrasting perceptions—particularly from German mothers—including Birgit, who mentioned that she was proud that her children were a part of the international community. She mentioned that one of her daughters was studying in Italy and the other was headed to the U.S. to begin their studies the following year. She wanted her children to experience an ‘international life’ and, for this reason, had pulled her daughters out of the German public system when they were young, and brought them to ISG. For Birgit, the international school community allowed her family to experience a degree of local exclusivity—something she was very proud of. The global imaginary of the international school community therefore presented an enormous value in building confidence towards a global-­ orientation and the hypermobile, international lifestyle in which parents like Birgit invested, with the idea of continuing to function within that international context. ISG’s German students on their part seemed to be acutely aware of the value that was associated with international mobility within this school. The discourse of the inadequacy of the ‘local’ was felt by some, as articulated by my participant Erika, a German high school student at ISG: “I get sick of being [in Germany]. I really want to leave. Especially going to an international school you hear so many people who have been to so many places. And I say, ‘well, when I was a baby, I lived in [one German city] and then I moved here [to another German city nearby], so it’s not that special. And everyone is always talking about the places all over the world and everyone has been everywhere. It’s just so nice to hear where they’ve all been and so I really want to do that too”.

Erika could hardly wait to compile her own repertoire of international experiences—comparing her sedentary life with what she perceived as more glamorous, expat experiences. She told me she had plans on taking

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a gap year to travel and to “become an au pair in Dubai” before going to university in the U.S. Her testimony illustrates well the prestige associated with international mobility and ‘nomadic lifestyles’ seen across campus. In many ways, Erika’s extended social network of globally-mobile individuals helped establish a heightened motivation to become internationally mobile herself—demonstrating the value that is placed on global mobility within the global imaginary of the community. The role the international school plays in transitioning both expatriate and host nationals into (and through) the international school system has an enormous impact on how the family experiences local, residential life, and future mobilities. While the establishment of expatriate, English-­ medium spaces, networks and opportunities to ease these transitions for expats and to create a global experience for host national community members, they can cause enormous challenges for family members who want to establish an authentic connection to their local communities. I would argue that the impact international schools have on these experiences is still greatly underestimated and sometimes even overlooked. Moreover, it is important to note here again that there are many institutional benefits that derive from the challenges expatriate community members face in attempting to establish a sense of belonging to their local communities. It creates a degree of dependency on the international school system, which maintains retention and competition. Moreover, members invest in and aspire to the idea of globality, though it is one that cannot be easily exited.

 xpectations and Challenges: Exiting E the International School System While working as a Modern Languages Lecturer in the British university system, I often encountered international school graduates taking language classes. This was an insightful experience, as I got to hear about different transitioning experiences into higher education from international schools located all over the world. What stood out to me most, were the students who were taking the language of the country in which

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they had lived. For example, the student had graduated from an international school in a German-speaking country, and they were studying German; or had graduated from a Spanish-speaking country and were studying Spanish. Most of the time, the student would enter with a much higher expectation of their language capabilities than what was demonstrated. This regularly caused confusion, embarrassment and frustration for the international school graduate—particularly once fellow classmates discovered they had actually grown up or lived in a country that spoke that language—they believed the international school graduate had an unfair advantage. I discovered that most of these former international school students were taking the language classes in order to return to that particular country after graduating. Several told me similar stories: that they had gone to the U.K. to get a degree, but still wanted to return back to their host country in the future. In fact, one graduate from an international school in Germany explained to me that he had always wanted to stay in Germany. He felt that the international school had prepared him well for a British university, that the transition had been positively experienced, but he felt the school did not prepare him for a future in Germany. This student told me that he had no intention of staying in the U.K., and while being a British passport holder, he did not feel as ‘British’ as he had imagined prior to his arrival. He was determined to finally become fluent in German while in the U.K. and return with an enhanced set of skills to enable him to stay there for good. Such testimonies are not unusual. Similar stories were shared with me by ISG alumni—particularly those who had repatriation experiences. Some had expressed to me that after they had graduated and moved abroad (or ‘returned home’), they had felt a lack of language and cultural knowledge to be able to justify their residency in Germany to new friends and acquaintances. One told me he felt very uncomfortable when other students at university enthusiastically asked him, “How do you say that in German?”—this relied on him translating random sentences, which he felt brought out the inadequacy of his German. It is important to note that it was a lot more than just a lack of confidence in language abilities. There was the sentiment that they did not quite meet the expectations of people they encountered later in their lives—finding it challenging to explain how they had lived in Germany, but lacked the skills to attest it. Even more

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confusing was the fact that the experience living abroad had produced cultural knowledge gaps and language deficiencies in the home language—making the repatriation experience very challenging. When I speak of ‘repatriation’ here, I refer to students returning to their passport country after graduating. This is where the global imaginary comes in, having both benefits and drawbacks, as international school graduates experience their school-to-university transition. On the one hand, the international school environment generally builds very confident, ‘globally-oriented’ individuals, who have grown accustomed to experiential and inquiry-based learning (through their IB experience), in which they are used to speaking their minds and taking a critical approach to the issues they encounter. However, on the other hand, this global orientation can facilitate a lack of sense of belonging to a location, whereby international school students experience difficulties transitioning back to their passport countries. As seen in this book, the global imaginary involves perceiving oneself as ‘global’, and along with this, adaptable, flexible and able to transition into new environments easily. This assumption regularly is associated with the labels like ‘cultural chameleon’ and ‘global nomad’, which circulate international school spaces and literature (as seen in Chap. 1). While these terms signpost an internationally-­mobile upbringing and indeed describe experiences of many, the ability to transition into new environments with ease is not experienced by everyone. They can present enormous challenges, no matter how many times the child has relocated. ISG’s school counsellor, Caroline, told me, “Sometimes these transitions never get easier for the child. Some are innately flexible. And those are the ones that are good students, or good athletes. They can hook into groups quickly, because they have really solid social skills. Then you have other kids that need special help, because they really struggle. Parents are supposed to give us all the information about them—they don’t always do that, but most of them do. And so we can be ready for them when they get to ISG”.

Caroline’s testimony highlights some of the discrepancies between relocation experiences amongst ISG’s expat population. There are some

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underlying assumptions associated with internationally-mobile children attending international schools which suggest that these relocations automatically make the individual adaptable and flexible. However Blasco, Egholm Feldt and Jakobsen (2012, p. 242) rightfully caution that this notion of ‘cultural intelligence’, or having ‘chameleon’-like abilities, must “be treated as a hypothesis, rather than as a well-proven construct”. This is important, because while some may exhibit a heightened cultural intelligence, as the reputation suggests (and therefore can be treated as a supposition, not a fact), these assumptions can also undermine the vulnerabilities and challenges that are experienced by others. Lijadi and van Schalkwyk (2018) argue that the feeling of ‘foreignness’ is an intrinsic part of the ‘Third Culture Kid’ (TCK) identity, and this includes the repatriation experience. Internationally mobile families that live abroad experience their national identities differently than when they repatriate. While abroad, and particularly in international school contexts, nationalities work as the primary mode of identification. This is lost when suddenly the student becomes a part of the majority again. Repatriating youth can experience difficulties making friends, and (re) integrating into mainstream society (Pollock and Van Reken 2009; Quick 2010). Additionally, former international school students have reported that the repatriation experience was a shock when they realised that their cultural knowledge of their homeland was not entirely as accurate as they believed (Quick 2010). This is unsurprising, as children raised in expatriate families often rely on the cultural information they receive from their parents (Hervey 2009)—their primary agents of socialisation—which is sometimes outdated, from a particular perspective, or only specific to a particular region of the country. Moreover, Smith and Kearney (2016) report that a common reaction from parents is happiness that the family is returning ‘home’. However, young repatriating adults feel disappointed at this reaction and express sentiments of lack of emotional support because of this. Pollock and Van Reken (2009) document how a ‘migratory instinct’, built from growing up ‘on the move’ can also impact how ‘Third Culture Kids’ experience university. This ‘migratory instinct’ can cause the university student to transfer several times before obtaining their degree (Smith and Kearney 2016). In fact, in my discussions with ISG alumni, some expats chose to return to Germany after attending

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university, though found their expectations were also disappointing, as their friends had moved on, and they no longer belonged to the school community that had once played a crucial role in their life prior to leaving the country. They then faced the task of integrating into German society, or into additional expat circles in the area. The feelings of ‘uprootedness’ did not go away, either when repatriating to the passport country, or returning to their ‘alma mater’. Though often left out of this discussion, host nationals also undergo significant cultural transitions when entering a local university. Former German students at ISG, for example, reported their difficulties transitioning into the German university system—arguing that they often felt like a foreigner in their own country. This was expressed by Katharina, a former ISG student who had been born and raised locally. In school lingo she was a ‘lifer’, having attended ISG from Kindergarten all the way through until graduation. She stated that while she would never take back her international school education, she faced significant challenges after graduating from ISG.  She had chosen to stay in the area and to attend university locally. She found it challenging to adjust to the local academic system, teaching philosophies, and standards of her local university. This even included having to learn how to write academically in German, and absorb a new educational culture, while also having to learn to make friends with local students who had vastly different educational, social and cultural experiences to her, as they had gone through the German public education system. She told me that the experience of feeling like a foreigner in her own country was deeply unsettling. Similar experiences have recently documented by Montgomery (2018) who explores how Thai international school graduates experience challenges when entering local Thai universities. Many of Montgomery’s (2018) host national participants felt the international school had prepared them very well academically for transitioning into the host country university system, as several indicated that they felt their classes at university were not very challenging. Some were disappointed with the lack of rigour and degree of critical thinking that was expected at the university level. However, at the same time, many of them were surprised to discover that their main transition challenge related to their social experiences—engaging with other Thai students who had attended local

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schools. Montgomery (2018) subsequently notes the tensions between the two groups, arguing that both sets experienced a degree of prejudice—each looking down on the other group due to the significant cultural differences. It is clear from these accounts that international schools give a number of invaluable skills to their students, however they seem to inadequately prepare them for life in their passport country, and generally life outside of a globally-oriented social structure and context.

Some Concluding Remarks One of the key themes that emerged through my interviews with expatriates experiencing their first transition, is that these families had the best intentions and expectations, early on, to establish a connection to their new country of residence: they had been committed to learn the local language; to build local friendships and social networks; and to acquire local cultural knowledge and skills. For some, like Diane’s family, these cultural experiences formed part of the rationale for the international move—the new adventure they were embarking on. However, each testimony revealed a similar pattern and trajectory: expectations changed gradually after becoming integrated into the ISG community; and expats began leaving the search for adventure behind, and instead settled for the comfortable. People became involved at the school, or in various expatriate communities in the area—building support networks amongst others who shared similar experiences of being a privileged foreigner. Within these particular ‘international’ spaces, the acquisition of local cultural knowledge and skills were not entirely relevant or necessary, required a substantial amount of work, and could be easily ignored or put aside. The general tendency to de-emphasise the value of the ‘local’ at school and within the community shapes mobility within the country (Meyer 2015). While I found that most community members were well aware of the insular, ‘expat bubble’ the school facilitated, many did not mind it very much, as ISG provided an array of support, resources and socialisation opportunities were very positively experienced.

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However, the boundaries of the community’s global imaginary were indeed later felt, once families began exiting the international school network. This includes students who had graduated and attended universities; families who had repatriated; parents who stayed in Germany after their children graduated; and host nationals who transitioned back into German society. In many of these cases, the ramifications of the international school ‘bubble’ were felt, to varying degrees. More meaningful, institutionalised connectivity to the immediate local environment of the international school community could further enhance intercultural engagement and sensitivity, and build important links that could foster relationships and establish a sense of belonging within the host country. These connections are vital towards re-­imagining the ‘global’ as inclusive of the ‘local’, whereby local mobilities are seen as an important component of the global orientation. This would also provide a more permanent place to which community members could establish a sense of belonging, instead of relying on temporary school spaces that no longer are available to them after members leave the country or exit the international school system. Ensuring community members are positioned with the highest form of local cultural capital possible, opens doors for local opportunities both during their stay within the international school system, but especially once families exit it. This simultaneously arms the community with ‘global’ cultural currency that includes the ‘local’, and helps create a sense of belonging and attachment to the local environment outside of the school. It protects and safeguards community members from becoming uprooted and gives them a place that is accessible and navigable if/when they return. International schools, and authority figures within them, can play an important role in shaping how community members see and place value on discovering, learning about, and engaging with the host society in meaningful ways. Significantly, international schools can foster the expatriate family’s intention of adventure by ensuring they establish the necessary links with their country of residence so that they can acquire experiences and cultural knowledge that will improve confidence, access and mobility within local spaces. This expands the global imaginary in very positive ways.

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References Beaverstock, J. V. (2005). Transnational Elites in the City: British Highly-Skilled Inter-Company Transferees in New York City’s Financial District. Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies, 31(2), 245–268. Blasco, M., Egholm Feldt, L., & Jakobsen, M. (2012). If Only Cultural Chameleons Could Fly Too: A Critical Discussion of the Concept of Cultural Intelligence. International Journal of Cross Cultural Management, 12(2), 229–245. Cohen, A. (1985). The Symbolic Construction of Community. London: Routledge. Croucher, S. (2012). Privileged Mobility in an Age of Globality. Societies, 2(1), 1–13. Devadason, R. (2017). The Golden Handcuffs: Choice, Compliance and Relocation Amongst Transnational Professionals and Executives. Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies, 43(13), 2265–2282. Emenike, N. W., & Plowright, D. (2017). Third Culture Indigenous Kids: Neo-­ colonialism and Student Identities in Nigerian International Schools. Journal of Research in International Education, 16(1), 3–17. Gardner, A. M. (2008). Strategic Transnationalism: The Indian Diasporic Elite in Contemporary Bahrain. City & Society., 20(1), 54–78. Hervey, E. (2009). Cultural Transitions During Childhood and Adjustment to College. Journal of Psychology and Christianity, 28(1), 3–12. Kautzsch, A. (2014). English in Germany: Spreading Bilingualism, Retreated Exonormative Orientation and Incipient Nativization? In S.  Buschfeld, T. Hoffmann, M. Huber, & A. Kautzsch (Eds.), The Evolution of Englishes: The Dynamic Model and Beyond (pp. 203–227). Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Korpela, M. (2014). Lifestyle of Freedom? Individualism and Lifestyle Migration. In M. Benson & N. Osbaldiston (Eds.), Understanding Lifestyle Migration: Theoretical Approaches to Migration and the Quest for a Better Way of Life (pp. 27–46). Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Kurotani, S. (2007). Middle-Class Japanese Housewives and the Experience of Transnational Mobility. In V. Amit (Ed.), Going First Class? New Approaches to Privileged Travel and Movement (pp. 15–32). New York: Berghahn. Leinonen, J. (2012). Money Is Not Everything That’s the Bottom Line: Families Ties in Transatlantic Elite Migrations. Social Science History, 36(2), 243–268. Lijadi, A. A., & van Schalkwyk, G. J. (2018). “The International Schools Are Not So International After All”: The Educational Experiences of Third Culture Kids. International Journal of School and Educational Psychology, 6(1), 50–61.

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McNulty, Y. (2015). Till Stress Do Us Part: The Causes and Consequences of Expatriate Divorce. Journal of Global Mobility, 3(2), 106–136. Meyer, H. (2015). Boundaries and the Restriction of Mobility in International School Communities: A Case Study from Germany. In S.  Benjamin & F. Dervin (Eds.), Migration, Diversity and Education: Beyond Third Culture Kids (pp. 59–83). London: Palgrave Macmillan. Montgomery, R. (2018). A Phenomenological Narrative of Thai Graduates of International Schools in Thailand. PhD Dissertation, Lamar University. Pollock, D., & Van Reken, R. E. (2009). Third Culture Kids: Growing Up Among Worlds (Rev. ed.). London: Intercultural Press. Quick, T. L. (2010). The Global Nomad’s Guide to University Transition. Great Britain: Summertime Publishing. Sander, M. (2016). Passing Through Shanghai: Ethnographic Insights into the Mobile Lives of Expatriate Youths. Heidelberg: Heidelberg University. Scott, S. (2006). The Social Morphology of Skilled Migration: The Case of the British Middle Class in Paris. Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies, 32(7), 1105–1129. Smith, V.  J., & Kearney, K.  S. (2016). A Qualitative Exploration of the Repatriation Experiences of US Third Culture Kids in College. Journal of College Student Development, 57(8), 958–972. Tanu, D. (2014). Becoming ‘International’: The Cultural Reproduction of the Local Elite at an International School in Indonesia. South East Asia Research, 22(4), 579–596.

7 Moving Forward: Reconstructing the Global Imaginary

We are responsible for giving the ‘global’ meaning. The global imaginary of international schools has been reconstructed over time to suit their ideological and market-­driven incentives. As seen in this book, the global imaginary comes to life in very material ways that shape realities and create mobilities for international school community members. This book has illustrated how the global imaginary is reconstructed through both inclusionary and exclusionary processes. On the one hand, the ‘global’ stands as an aspirational community symbol geared towards notions of ‘global citizenship’, or in the case of the International School of Germany (ISG), ‘global-­mindedness’. It guides inclusive educational practices, motivates intercultural awareness and tolerance, and develops personal qualities including open-­mindedness, empathy and commitment to social justice. On the other hand, however, the ways in which the ‘global’ symbol currently translates into communities generates an exclusion of certain groups. In part, this is due to the international education market, which adds a competitive slant onto the notion of ‘being global’. International schools face pressures to regulate the ‘local’ and to demonstrate the brand of ‘internationality’, all the while maintaining and cultivating a globally-­oriented ideological direction. This situation can lead to © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 H. A. Meyer, The Global Imaginary of International School Communities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-72744-4_7

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isolationism; restriction of physical, social and cognitive mobility for community members; and exclusionary practices within community life. The ‘global’ is not as neutral as the symbol currently lends itself to be in the international school network. I have argued that the global imaginary is powerful in shaping the sector and its vast community. It is powerful because it is linked to a strong market of stakeholders and an ever-­increasing demand for a very particular ‘type’ of future for both internationally-­mobile and host country youth. The global imaginary is also reproduced through an array of channels that flow through a large network of investors in the industry. The notion of the ‘global imaginary’ as a conceptual framework allows us to understand the processes of ‘becoming global’, as it is contextualised within the sector. Importantly: The global imaginary is a social imaginary. This means it can be redefined, refocused, and reproduced to become more inclusive. In this chapter, I discuss the three key outcomes from this book in the form of recommendations for the international school sector: the role of the local; the definition of the national; and the involvement of the network in the reconstruction of the global imaginary.

The Local Must Become a Part of the Global The global imaginary of international schools relies on a strategy of polarisation between the ‘global’ and the ‘local’. I have argued that international schools offer an education that is specifically not ‘local’, which generates a culture of regulating and managing the way the ‘local’ is presented and categorised, and the extent to which it is made visible within the community. Of course, the ‘local’ is entirely relative—it works as a symbol that is understood similarly, though contextualised differently, across the global international school network. Nevertheless, the local must become part of the global, so the global can be truly holistic. I have argued that there seems to be a disjuncture between the official defining features of ‘global citizenship’ (among other globally-­oriented terms seen in school missions), and how they are interpreted and practiced ‘on the ground’ by community members. While a school can

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outwardly project an inclusive, holistic, globally-­oriented school mission and very successfully make visible connections to curriculum (like ISG), the invisible culture of the school may be doing something very different. As seen, ISG community members knew they were ‘global’ to the point that one student argued it was ‘engrained’ in them. The school was very successful in establishing an institutional identity as ‘globally-­minded’, and was praised by its accreditors for successfully integrating the school mission in its accreditation process that had taken place at the time of my research. However, I discovered that the features of ‘being global’ were being interpreted and understood in additional, less visible ways. This included community members perceiving an expatriate status, experiences of residency abroad, and English language proficiency as quantifiable, demonstrable ‘global’ qualities which were used to construct a global imaginary. These are not exhaustive. Interpretations of ‘whiteness’ and a demonstration of ‘Western’ characteristics as being ‘global’ are also present (Tanu 2018; Sander 2016). Context plays an important role here, as these features of ‘globality’ are illuminated in different ways—some more prominent than others depending on the context of the school. Many of these defining features are linked to the polarisation strategies that are used to define the school and the community as ‘global’: an expat status is a non-­local status; experiences gained abroad are valued over those gained locally; and English language proficiency holds a higher status than the local language. These key markers of community work to legitimise the school’s position as an ‘international’ school. While community members invest in an education that offers an experience that is specifically not available within local systems of education, it must not be regulated to the extent where the ‘local’ becomes viewed as separate to the promised global orientation. Therefore, establishing a school-­wide strategy which makes the ‘local’ a valued feature of the school’s ‘global’ culture is essential in dismantling cultural norms like polarisation. There are several ways to do this including beginning with incentive programmes for all teaching staff to gain a certain level proficiency in the local language(s). One expat teacher at ISG told me that she regularly incorporated German words, phrases and cultural bits and pieces within her classrooms to signpost the importance she placed on the ‘local’. Incorporating language learning into the workload plan of teaching staff also symbolises the

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institutional value that is placed on ensuring the ‘local’ becomes a part of the global imaginary. New incoming staff going through a language and cultural programme with others from the community can also help create bonds and social networks based on learning about the ‘local’. A useful supplementary measure to these orientation programmes for incoming expat members of staff is to create a ‘buddy-­system’ with a local member of staff. This would also bridge some of the social gaps between expatriate and host national staff members in international school communities (see for example Schwindt 2003; Bailey 2015a). I see it as very important that staff is able to regularly create opportunities which bring the ‘local’ into the curriculum, as this helps construct a global imaginary that values knowledge and skills that are locally-­­oriented. This can have a very positive impact on the community’s social imaginary involving the ‘local’. It has been often reported that host nationals are not regularly hired to deliver what is perceived as ‘core content’ at international schools (Schwindt 2003; Canterford 2009). In addition to this, it is worth examining the extent to which host nationals take on leadership positions within international schools (Wickins and Edwards 2018). Having host nationals in leadership positions develops more possibilities for local role models to appear within existing social structures. It sends a powerful message that the ‘local’ can be a part of the ‘global’ imaginary. Co-­creating content with host national staff and host nationals from outside the international school community brings in a diverse range of voices on host country related topics. This can involve building relationships with local schools, connecting with local educators who teach on these themes within the local system, and going through professional development programmes available locally. These actions can also give international school educators the tools required to even go so far as creating a programme for students specifically dedicated towards learning about their country of residence as a supplement to existing language classes. A strong emphasis on learning the host language also contributes to the message that the ‘local’ is a part of the ‘global’. Language programmes should be heavily scaled and scaffolded to create opportunities for students, staff and parents to continually develop and observe their progression. This emphasis equally includes the development of local

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language skills and cultural knowledge for host nationals, in a compatible fashion to their counterparts attending other schools locally. The emphasis that is often placed on particularly distant cultures, societies, political structures and languages offered by an international education can easily overshadow the value of learning about the host nation. International schools are in a position to greatly contribute to their students’ understanding of the host country’s geography, history, politics, language, society and culture. As seen in this book, within the system of international schools, this form of knowledge about their host country works as cultural capital when students move abroad. Building a strong foundation in locally-­oriented skills is, I argue, also an important safe-­guarding responsibility for international schools. Based on my observations at ISG, it is vital that students learn how to accurately ‘read’ situations, understand what is happening around them, how to be safe, and how to access the resources they require when navigating the host society independently. Placing a strong emphasis on ensuring internationally-­mobile youth have what they need to thrive in their host societies is a protective measure that both schools and parents can greatly influence. Safeguarding precautions in this area also involve exploring what physical, social and mental boundaries (Hernes 2004) exist within the school community that actively prevent students from practicing their full ‘global’ skillset which should ideally include competency in ‘local’ skills (see Chap. 3). Of course, the extent to which this is possible is again highly contingent on the context of each international school. The local environment may not be easily accessible or safe to explore in uniform ways. However, an examination of barriers (or perceived barriers) which perhaps inadvertently regulate access to the host society is important in protecting expats from vulnerabilities experienced as foreigners in the country. Host nationals may also require a development of locally-­oriented skills. In the case of ISG, German parents regularly raised the issue of their children developing high quality writing and speaking skills in English, which would make them successful abroad in English-­speaking universities and companies. However, they also felt their children were not prepared similarly for writing and speaking in the academic and

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professional world in Germany. This dynamic has been documented also by Montgomery (2018), as discussed in Chap. 6. This issue was a challenge at ISG, as the demand for a more robust and comprehensive German programme for host nationals was seen institutionally as contradictory to its demand for an English-­medium ‘global’ education. This response to these requests also highlights the discourse of polarisation between an English speaking ‘global’ and another-­ language-­ speaking ‘local’. This leads to the provision of transition programmes for the entire community, including the process of both entering and exiting the school. Most international schools will likely have some form of transitioning support for incoming and outgoing expat families (Ota 2014). It is a very complicated process, as families move in and out of the school community regularly—sometimes mid-­year. Moreover, families come from a range of different backgrounds and bring a large variety of experiences to the school community. Facilitating transition programmes that meet the requirements of such a diverse demographic is an enormous task. Ota (2014) discusses the complexities associated with transition support programmes in international schools, that meet the requirements of such a diverse demographic. This includes orientation and arrival; staying; departing; attachment; identity and belonging; resources and support for adults and youth in the community; and the role of culture (to name a few). All of these elements make the creation of such programmes a complicated task to facilitate. As seen in Chap. 6, international schools like ISG, which provide support for their expat families even prior to their arrival already begin to shape the perspectives and attitudes towards the host country. Resources, advice and guidance not only structure future mobilities within the host country, but is also likely to cater to very particular groups (i.e. Western, English-­speaking expat groups), and subsequently marginalise others. Much of the existing transition-­related literature specifically designed for international schools speaks often directly to the experiences of ‘Third Culture Kids’ that exclude the experiences of host nationals. This is because the ‘Third Culture Kid’ term is regularly associated with internationally-­­mobile children (see Chap. 1). The experiences of host nationals transitioning in and out of international school communities

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has only recently gained some traction. For example, Bailey (2018) speaks of the culture shock experienced by host nationals transitioning into an international school in Malaysia. Similarly, Emenike and Plowright (2017) explore the experiences of ‘Third Culture Indigenous Kids’ in Nigeria—documenting the cultural tensions between their home communities and the school. Additionally, Montgomery (2018) illustrates the transition experiences of host national international school graduates attending local Thai universities. Still, the issue of transition programmes is not fully addressed. Ota (2014) also examines the notion of ‘staying’, (i.e. not transitioning into or out of the international school), as he recognises these students also need support: “The reality is that living in the international school world accelerates the psychological experience of the normal human life cycle…Cycles of proximity-­­­seeking, bonding, friendship, and farewell span not thirty to fifty years, as they used to, but one to five—or less”. (p. 134)

The inclusion of ‘stayers’ is very positive in recognising the struggles of students who are less mobile. These are children that are in the host country on a more permanent basis, that constantly watch their friends and influential adult figures at the school (e.g. a favourite teacher or member of staff) come and go. Ota (2014) largely focuses on ‘Third Culture Kids’ (expats), however, these issues are immensely important for host nationals in international schools, and they also need support to understand and process these accelerated cycles. Host nationals are the ones that are regularly affected by the issues impacting those who are staying. Transition support that is available only to internationally-­mobile families excludes those who experience serial loss of friendships and social stability within these spaces. McNulty and Carter (2018) have noticed the significant dearth in literature addressing the transition issues for permanent residents of the host country. These issues need to be addressed, as they are having very clear impacts on the school’s social structures. As discussed in Chap. 5, host nationals tend to form tight social circles within their group (also seen in Tanu 2018). This is significant, as that self-­segregation is partly a way of shielding themselves from the negative

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effects experienced by the intense mobility that occurs within international schools. The emphasis that is often placed on facilitating smooth transitions for internationally-­mobile families risks inadvertently marginalising host nationals, and perpetuating the exclusionary social circles. However, the school is only partially responsible for these transition experiences of host national students. Parents also play a very important role in shaping their children’s perceptions of the host society and its relationship with the international school. Students undergo daily cultural transitioning—alternating between the cultures of the school, the home and the host country. This raises particular issues for host country nationals, who experience tensions between these spheres, including the process of trying to fulfil cultural and linguistic expectations set by their families and by the school (Emenike and Plowright 2017). Therefore, it is necessary to develop training sessions and workshops that address the transitioning, not only for expats but also for host nationals, in order to gain an understanding of how address and deal with these daily tensions. The expat parents’ experiences of acculturation within the host country also impacts those of their expat children (Johnson 2016). As ISG testimonies revealed in Chap. 6, the parents’ perception and experiences of the host society and culture were often picked up on or mimicked by their children. Parents therefore play an important role framing how the ‘local’ is perceived and experienced by their children. They significantly contribute to the construction of the global imaginary, and as such they can also positively influence the value that the imaginary places on the ‘local’. Johnson confirms the significance of the parents’ adjustment to the new host culture when: “parents become adjusted to new cultures, [Third Culture Kids (TCKs)] adapt more easily as well since they model the behavior and attitudes of their parents. Parents are widely viewed as the main support of expatriate children in adjusting to new environments”. (2016, p. 88)

The parental influence is not only relevant to expatriate children. In fact, similar arguments have been well documented within migrant literature, where the assimilation process of migrant parents also impact their first or second-­generation children. For example, Portes and Rumbaut (2001)

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analyse through the theory of segmented assimilation how structural and cultural factors affect parental assimilation, and how the parents’ reaction to those factors has repercussions on their children’s experience of acculturation. A similar argument can be made within international school communities: whether it is a host-­national parent who regularly expresses cultural dissonance with the international school environment and culture, or an expat parent who does the same but in relation the host society, can have a significant impact on their child’s perceptions as well. However, both the host national, as well as the migrant literature, are often left out of these discussions, possibly due to the idea of TCK ‘exceptionality’. Nevertheless, there are more commonalities in these experiences than formally recognised. Therefore, parents must also focus on their own transition experiences as equally relevant in ensuring the wellbeing for their children. As seen in this book, a common recurring theme within discussions with expatriate parents was that on arrival they had been committed to learning the host language and getting involved within the host society, but that gradually over time their efforts were not effective. On the one hand, becoming members of the international school community had presented additional social networks in which the acquisition of local skills was not necessary or deemed relevant. On the other hand, however, they had also felt frustrated that their attempts to learn the language and acculturate locally had failed. There seemed to be a great need (and demand) for an official provision of language and cultural classes for parents. Many of ISG’s ‘stay-­at-­home’ mothers spoke of their children and spouses acquiring a local skillset faster than them. This leads to what ISG Counsellor, Caroline called ‘a somewhat forgotten group’. The establishment of on-­campus language centres specifically tailored for international school members might be an attractive option to learn the local language(s) and/or English, as a way to become more integrated into the local and/or international school community. The inclusion of host national parents transitioning into the international school community has been insufficiently addressed and researched. Much of the current literature is based on the experiences of internationally-­ mobile families, which frequently excludes the experiences local parents

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have sending their children to an international school. This is in many ways contributing to the polarisation trends discussed in this book. As seen, the context in which an international school operates influences some of its institutional structures, including the extent to which the ‘local’ becomes visible within the community. However, I would caution that the abundance of host national presence within the community should not be mistaken as a demonstration of value that is placed on the ‘local’ within community culture. Nor should it be interpreted as a sign that the ‘local’ has been sufficiently included in the school’s global orientation. Strategies must be made across all facets of community life to subvert the culture of polarisation that marginalises groups and constructs social hierarchies.

It’s Time to Reconsider the Role of ‘National’ The second key outcome of this book relates to the role of the ‘national’ within international schools, as teachers, students and parents frequently rely on national identification to navigate and understand the international school community. As seen in this book, community members at ISG used nationalities to identify each other, classify discordance as ‘cultural differences’ (rooted in nationalities), and to position themselves within the social structures and hierarchies of the school community. This is a systemic issue for the wider international school community, as my observations and findings complement those from other research conducted at international schools from various parts of the world (e.g. Fitzsimons 2019; Tanu 2018). National identities are complicated, especially when contextualised within the international school system which, as has been discussed, places value on particular qualities that can be linked back to individual nationalities. International schools also place emphasis and value on distant nationalities—devaluing and even exoticisng the ‘local’. As seen, this evolves into three forms of cultural capital: an ability to acquire Anglophone (and thus non-­local) competencies; an ‘expat’ status in the host country; and widespread experience of mobility and living ‘abroad’. At ISG, these forms of cultural capital allowed members to confirm, in

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both formal and informal spaces, what was seen as a ‘legitimate’ community membership and contribution to the global orientation of the school. The term ‘TCK’ appeared frequently to illuminate how the school facilitated an education for expatriate, internationally-­mobile children. While host nationals at the school did not hold an ‘expat’ status, they were also ranked (and ranked themselves) according to how ‘international’ they were, based on experiences living abroad. Terms to highlight this differentiation appeared across the community like ‘international German’ as opposed to ‘lifer’, ‘second-­degree German’, ‘German-­German’ and ‘local German’. The subtle, often passive forms of exclusion through the regulation and management of ‘Germanness’ created a culture that continuously placed this latter ‘type’ of ‘German at the bottom of the social hierarchy of the school. These hierarchies are complex, with value being placed not only on certain nationalities, but also on Western, Anglophone cultural knowledge and skills, which held the highest status at the school. The acquisition of ‘global’ skills, in the context of Germany meant learning how to speak English fluently and acquiring the accompanying Anglophone cultural knowledge. Of course, in the case of Germany, a Western education was available locally as well, so it was not the school’s primary ‘selling point’, as seen in other studies.1 The current global imaginary of international school communities requires a nationality framework to position oneself and others along a scale of ‘globality’, as defined and cultivated by the international school network itself. The visibility of particular nationalities and socio-­cultural backgrounds in authority positions across the sector, and the encouragement towards gaining forms of capital that are relevant within particular distant localities (e.g. universities located specifically in the U.S. and Britain) establish an image of what it means to be ‘global’ at international schools. Within this international learning environment, nationalities are not being perceived as equal, and worldwide structural imbalances and inequalities are being replicated. This global imaginary is not creating neutral spaces, even though this is often a rhetoric used in school branding and discourse.  See for example, Tanu (2018); Bailey (2015b).

1

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Following this study I have two recommendations on this topic. The first, is for international school communities to reconsider the power of ‘international-­mindedness lite’ (Skelton 2007, p.  388) activities. These nationality-­based activities require members to engage with complexities including exoticisation, that are often overlooked by dominant groups (i.e. those who hold the aforementioned forms of cultural currency), as they are less likely to be negatively affected by them. Like many international schools around the world, ISG engaged in a handful of nationality-­ oriented events per year, including the ‘Parade of Nations’ during the ‘Mosaic of Cultures’ day (see Chap. 3). Typically, other formalised nationality-­related activities appeared at the beginning of the school year to orientate the students in their new classes; during the Feste (as seen in Chap. 4); and the formal nationality groups created by the Parent Teacher Organisation (PTO) for adult socialisation opportunities. These formal internationalisation events affirm and validate the global imaginary of international school communities, which currently relies on nationalities to construct the social world and the school culture. The events are more powerful than is acknowledged in the wider international school community: they are not merely social practices that reproduce and celebrate a sense of community. They are also rituals that verify and legitimise the methodological nationalism and hierarchisation that take place in the informal spaces of school life. These events actually help institutionalise the symbolic violence that occurs within the international school culture. Many terms and phrases associated with these rituals within international schools and international school literature downplay their potential impact on the community. These terms include the 3 S’s (saris, samosas and steel bands2’) and the 5 F’s (Food, Fashion, Fiestas, Folklore, and Famous people3). The use of these terms is meant to reflect that they are social events to have fun and build a sense of community, instead of being used as pedagogical tools. Skelton (2007) has rightfully observed that these community events create a discourse of not engaging with the ‘other’ in a meaningful way. In addition, I argue that the perception of  See Troyna (1987).  See Begler (1998).

2 3

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these events as superficial implies that there is no significant or potentially harmful weight associated with these customs. These events portray the space as sanitised and neutral—devoid of the complexities national belonging creates, particularly amongst international school community members, who balance multiple cultures at once regularly. The events focus on stereotypes, without problematising their origin, implications, or social context. Therefore, I argue that these events are counterproductive in dismantling some of the exclusionary practices that take place in these communities. The second recommendation following this is to refocus the emphasis on national identity within the international school community. When I speak of this, I am referring to intercultural engagement activities which rely on building a sense of belonging to an imagined national community (see Anderson 2006; Billig 1995). In international school environments, community members are exposed to the promotion of both ‘international’ and ‘national’ identities (Fitzsimons 2019). This is in part because students are formally and informally called on to ‘represent’ their nationalities, while simultaneously being exposed to the global orientation of the community. This dynamic is embedded within the culture of the school—and we can see this by how members categorised each other (see Chaps. 3 and 4). The problem with the representations of national identity within international school communities is that they rely on static, permanent ideas about national belonging. It is also assumed that the individual has a specific form of cultural knowledge and skills, including fluency in a particular language or languages; understanding of the culture, society and politics of the country; and knowledge of its history and geography. International school students can receive a lot of pressure from the school community and importantly, from their parents, to demonstrate competencies in particular nationally-­oriented skills. These students become unofficial ambassadors of their national identities, whether they want to or not. What’s more, national identities created when abroad may not entirely be representative of those required in the localities ‘back home’. The representations of national identity can be accompanied by a range of additional ideologies including notions of whiteness, ideas about global power and capital, and colonialism. It means conceptualising

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oneself in relation to other nationality groups that may have more, or less power than one’s own. All of these ideas associated with nationality, I argue, are somewhat contradictory to the global orientation projected by international schools. International school community members bring much more ‘diversity’ than is promoted by the emphasis on the ‘national’. The role of intersectionality is important in these environments, including the regular engagement with the variety of social identities that make each individual who they are. Therefore, it would be interesting to discover how more engagement with the notion of ‘local experiences’ could contribute to a slightly revised model of identity construction and labelling processes within international school communities. Taye Selasi delivered a powerful TED Talk in 2014 in which she suggests that instead of asking ‘Where are you from?’, the question should be ‘Where are you local?’ (Selasi 2014). The former question is notoriously problematic for internationally-­mobile families, because, as noted, it is associated with all sorts of symbols and ideologies affixed to a static (mostly national) identity. I believe that this approach has two very important potential outcomes for international school communities. First, it places value on localities—thereby beginning to address the convention of polarisation found within international schools. A host national could then be included within conversations of localities. By allowing community members the opportunity to draw on their ‘local experiences’ that shape who they are, the school can provide a framework that brings out the dynamic, intersectional identities that exist within community. This approach also validates different experiences (and thus identities) that have been shaped by influences from within the same country. For example, a student growing up in a bustling city like Paris might understand ‘France’ differently to someone who grew up in a small Mediterranean town in the south of France. In fact, they may have more in common with a student who grew up in London, New York or Tokyo, than their fellow French national. Second, the focus on the acquisition of ‘local experiences’ throughout a lifetime emphasises individuality, and is therefore more inclusive than focusing primarily on nationalities as an identity marker. This approach diverts from existing nationality-­oriented ideologies which allow people to rank each other based on the forms of cultural capital they possess, as

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discussed in this book. Establishing a community global imaginary that reframes the ‘global’ through local experiences allows parents to engage with notions of identity in a way that is useful to understand and address the cultural discordance between them and their children. Children’s local experiences are their identities, and while they might share the same passport and heritage as their parents, their local experiences growing up abroad and attending an international school have created a unique identity specific to them. I recognise however that there is a large institutional identity problem with this recommendation, as the international brand itself relies on a community of nationalities. The promise of providing an international environment must be made visible to satisfy not only the market demands from clientele, but also in many cases those from the local authority. Perhaps we are in a moment where the brand of international schooling must be re-­evaluated through an examination of the overarching network.

 e Must Examine the Networks Involved W in Reconstructing the Global Imaginary This book has highlighted the strong connection between the educational market and the cultural practices seen ‘on the ground’ in international school communities. The market is based on a very particular understanding of what the ‘global’ means in practice. International schools have been known to tailor recruitment from Western, Anglophone countries (e.g. Canterford 2009; Gardner-­McTaggart 2018); get accredited from agencies with a strong Anglo-­European influence (e.g. Council of International Schools (CIS) and New England Association of Schools and Colleges (NEASC)); prioritise links with universities based in the Global North—particularly in the United States and the United Kingdom; and establish partnerships with an intra-­network of ‘like-­ minded’ international schools (e.g. Association of German International Schools (AGIS)). These networks establish a degree of consistency in approach, and thus a stable global imaginary.

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The international school sector, including its networks of affiliated organisations, requires a re-­examination of how the symbol of the ‘global’ is being reproduced and interpreted as a social imaginary more broadly. I stress the notion of the symbol because it is important to acknowledge its versatility, in terms of how it is given meaning, how it is constructed, and how it is practiced across a range of different contexts. The network of international schools constructs a global imaginary that projects an ideology of intercultural tolerance, acceptance, equality, and equity. The symbol is validated through the accreditation process, whereby international schools must evidence a commitment to ‘global citizenship’ (as seen in CIS accreditation). This formalised validation measure must be re-­ examined with caution, as the use of the symbol is currently masking some of the sector’s systemic exclusionary practices. For example, a school can become accredited through its visible and pronounced commitment to ‘global citizenship’, while simultaneously facilitating a culture which marginalises particular groups and individuals. Therefore, the steps to reconstruct the ‘global’ as an inclusive community symbol and social imaginary within the network is not just a matter of rephrasing mission statements, or re-­defining terms like ‘global-­ mindedness’ and ‘global citizenship’. Extra steps are needed to challenge system that has already produced a global imaginary that is fundamentally based on demonstrating cultural capital that cannot be achieved equally by all. It requires examining how the symbol is interpreted across all facets of international school community life. Recruitment of school leaders, faculty and staff plays an important role in re-­defining how the ‘global’ is interpreted by schools and their clientele. As seen in Chap. 5, international school recruitment processes have regularly catered to the myth of the ‘native speaker’—the notion that the best international education is provided by educators who are white, native English speakers who have been educated in Western, Anglophone countries. Catering to these market demands has limited the recruitment pool—particularly through what Canterford (2009) calls ‘ports of entry’, or strategies that are used to filter candidates according to these market-­ driven demands. Ultimately, this process leads to a particular demographic of international school teachers and leaders who become role models and key figures who embody how the ‘global’ is framed within these spaces.

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Diversifying authority figures within the international school system can directly challenge language ideologies, systemic racism, and the marginalisation of host nationals. It is important for a diverse demographic of students to feel represented at the school—engaging with practitioners who can draw from truly diverse backgrounds to provide in-­ class examples, testimonies and experiences to supplement learning. Networks provide both gateways and produce boundaries. As seen in Chap. 5, international school networks both facilitate and restrict mobilities. These boundaries transcend across the international school networks, which help construct the international school communities as ‘global’, despite being relatively isolated from their local communities. The culture of placing a significant amount of value on international mobility, seen as an expression of global citizenship, is facilitated through the network. International school teaching staff and leaders who have held positions at numerous international schools around the world are highly regarded within the network, having gained experiences in a variety of countries, learned about different cultures and people, and therefore having demonstrated a perceived commitment to internationality. At the same time, this form of mobility contributes to the disconnection between the international school network and the local contexts in which the receiving schools are located. The recruitment agenda of particularly transient internationally-­mobile teaching staff and leaders places value specifically on that transience—the nomadic lifestyle—that is compatible and relatable to the communities’ demographic of internationally-­mobile youth. The alternative is to ensure recruitment of core faculty and leadership is conducted locally as well—to represent permanent residents of the community, and to bridge the links between the school and the host society. A balance between local and international representation that would reflect more accurately the make-­up of the student body, would be ideal. The affiliated organisations, associations and universities that provide professional development opportunities for international school leaders and faculty form networks that contribute to the global imaginary of international school communities. There should be more emphasis within this training on how to incorporate the ‘local’ within the school. This includes how to integrate the ‘local’ into the general ‘global’ orientation;

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curricular activities; counselling and guidance services; and the provision of support for parents. The culture of placing value on uprootedness, travel, distant geographies, and expat nationalities runs through the network of international school around the world, as community members move through them. International schools facilitate international travel opportunities for members, however largely within their own networks of compatible, like-­minded schools (e.g. as seen in International Schools Sports Tournaments (ISST) and International School Theatre Association (ISTA) festivals). External organisations like World Challenge create international learning opportunities for students, including the opportunity to gain Community, Activity, Service (CAS) points, though these also produce very specific perceptions of ‘service’—particularly as these tend to take place in the Global South.4 These opportunities help reconstruct the global imaginary as associated with privilege and international mobility, however, they also bypass educational opportunities in the immediate local, that could also be framed as an expression of ‘globality’ and may have more long-­lasting positive effects for the local community. The network of international school communities can therefore be reimagined and reconstructed as a global network of localities. While an international education facilitates global connectedness through a series of important networks that are based around the world, an emphasis can be placed on where these organisations are located, who generates this knowledge, and what the potential cultural implications are of this. If we examine where these leading organisations are based geographically, it is questionable whether the ‘global’ is being represented equally. The administration of the international school network is managed from very particular regions of the world. This is linked to the international education market, which is heavily contextualised within the Western, Anglo-­world. By reimagining these networks through the lens of localities, the imbalances become clearer. Subverting them requires reimagining what the ‘global’ means, who is permitted to access it, and who gets to generate, define and qualify ‘global’ cultural capital. International schools can draw  See World Challenge (2020).

4

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heavily on their local environments to reconstruct what this ‘global’ means to the individual school, and ultimately, to their networks. Jackson (2005) for example, argues that creating long-­term, sustainable networks with local schools can have a positive, meaningful impact in providing local experiences that enhance intercultural awareness in a way that extends beyond the nationalities framework. Building local networks outside of the international school system can enhance diversity of local experiences, and thus improve the chances of mobility within the host nation. These networks can also be used to supplement curriculum, including providing opportunities for students to engage with the ‘local’ through CAS, fieldtrips, language learning, and developing intercultural communication. Therefore, it would be beneficial for international schools around the world to examine the diversity of existing networks with which the respective school is associated. Each school will find itself in a slightly different circumstance. However, a close examination of the enormous influence international school networks have on the systemic construction of the global imaginary is essential in ensuring the ‘global’ becomes interpreted and materialised in more inclusive ways.

Final Remarks It is important to note that these three aforementioned points are very closely linked to a vast, lucrative educational market that influences how international schools operate: 1. International schools offer an education that is specifically not available locally. Clientele invest in the international school system to circumvent the national school system for various reasons including language, cultural, and educational barriers. Therefore, incorporating the local as a part of the global framework, will produce tensions with these market-­­driven incentives. 2. The brand of ‘international’ school suggests that there are various nationalities present, to cultivate what is seen as an ‘ideal’ learning

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environment. Highlighting the various nationalities present within the community delivers the promised brand that is promoted. 3. The wider networks through which international schools operate ensure the system is legitimised. Accreditation, recruitment, curriculum and resource provision, and professional development are facilitated through governing bodies that maintain and affirm consistent provision of the product. These networks facilitate a type of migration pattern that is desirable to clientele. Therefore, the recommendations made in this chapter will indeed produce tensions between the general ideological direction of international schools and the markets in which they are situated, and on which they depend. Nevertheless, these tensions can be overcome by reconstructing the idea of what constitutes the global imaginary, and will address a number of the challenges facing international schools. The process towards this reconstruction therefore involves both individual schools and, significantly, the wider network through which they operate. The implications of this book also relate to the reproduction of the symbols ‘local’ and ‘global’ within educational contexts more broadly. Educational providers hold a significant amount of power in developing and shaping the social imaginaries of their learners—specifically through framing the learning environment according to an aspirational symbol. Having spent time as an educator in a variety of schools and higher education institutions, I have recognised the significance of symbols in reproducing these local and global social imaginaries. Some national educational institutions already place a strong value on the acquisition of locally-­ oriented skills, with the presumed trajectory for its students to be local. In such instances, content is local—incorporating locally-­relevant examples, local projects, locally-­oriented social networking, and qualifications that are mainly honoured within the local context. Others, like international schools, and ‘global’ universities, the presumed futures of students are projected in a different way—globally-­relevant topics are covered; holistic, transdisciplinary learning is given value; and employability and/ or university services have a global dimension. In both cases, social imagination plays an important role in constructing and legitimising the environment according to the respective symbol. They shape futures.

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Therefore, it is likely to take the entire educational community to work with the symbols that define our world to make them more inclusive and more far-­reaching than ever before.

References Anderson, B. (2006). Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism (Rev. ed.). London: Verso. Bailey, L. (2015a). Reskilled and ‘Running Ahead’: Teachers in an International School Talk About Their Work. Journal of Research in International School Education, 14(1), 3–15. Bailey, L. (2015b). The Experiences of Host Nationals in International Schools: A Case-Study from Malaysia. Journal of Research in International Education, 14(2), 85–97. Bailey, L. (2018). Asian Or International? Exploring the Tensions and Opportunities Offered by International Schools in Asia for Local Students. In K. J. Kennedy & J. C.-K. Lee (Eds.), The Routledge Handbook on Schools and Schooling in Asia (pp. 272–279). Abingdon: Routledge. Begler, E. (1998). Global Cultures: The First Steps Toward Understanding. Social Education, 62, 272–275. Billig, M. (1995). Banal Nationalism. London: Sage. Canterford, G. (2009). Segmented Labour Markets in International Schools. EdD Thesis, University of Bath. Emenike, N. W., & Plowright, D. (2017). Third Culture Indigenous Kids: Neo-­ Colonialism and Student Identities in Nigerian International Schools. Journal of Research in International Education, 16(1), 3–17. Fitzsimons, S. (2019). Students’ (Inter)National Identities Within International Schools: AQualitative Study. Journal of Research in International Education, 18(3), 274–279. Gardner-McTaggart, A. (2018). The Promise of Advantage: Englishness in IB International Schools. Perspectives: Policy and Practice in Higher Education, 22(4), 109–114. Hernes, T. (2004). The Spatial Construction of Organization. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Jackson, M. (2005). The Role of the Host Culture as a Resource for Developing Intercultural Understanding in a Dutch International Secondary School. Journal of Research in International Education, 4(2), 193–209.

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Johnson, L. R. (2016). The Acculturation of Third Culture Kids and the Implication for International School Transition Programs. PhD Thesis, Northcentral University. McNulty, Y., & Carter, M. (2018). Do International School Staff Receive Professional Development Training About Third Culture Kids (TCKs)? Perspectives from Faculty and Parents. In K.  J. Kennedy & J.  C.-K.  Lee (Eds.), The Routledge Handbook on Schools and Schooling in Asia (pp. 280–292). Abingdon: Routledge. Montgomery, R. (2018). A Phenomenological Narrative of Thai Graduates of International Schools in Thailand. PhD, Lamar University. Ota, D.  W. (2014). Safe Passage: How Mobility Affects People and What International Schools Should Do About It. Summertime Publishing. Portes, A., & Rumbaut, R. G. (2001). Legacies: The Story of Immigrant Second Generation. Berkeley: University of California Press. Sander, M. (2016). Passing Through Shanghai: Ethnographic Insights into the Mobile Lives of Expatriate Youths. Heidelberg: Heidelberg University Press. Schwindt, E. (2003). The Development of a Model for International Education with Special Reference to the Role of Host Country Nationals. Journal of Research in International Education, 10(1), 71–86. Selasi, T. (2014). Don’t Ask Where I’m from, Ask Where I’m Local. [Online Video]. Retrieved July 2020, from https://www.ted.com/talks/taiye_selasi_don_t_ ask_where_i_m_from_ask_where_i_m_a_local. Skelton, M. (2007). International-Mindedness and the Brain: The Difficulties of ‘Becoming’. In M.  Hayden, J.  Levy, & J.  Thompson (Eds.), The SAGE Handbook of Research in International Educational (pp. 379–389). London: SAGE Publications. Tanu, D. (2018). Growing Up in Transition: The Politics of Belonging at an International School. New York and Oxford: Berghahn. Troyna, B. (1987). Beyond Multiculturalism: Towards the Enactment of Anti-­ racist Education in Policy, Provision and Pedagogy. Oxford Review of Education, 13(3), 307–320. Wickins, E., & Edwards, A. (2018). And a Green Tea Frappuccino: Developing the Local Dimension of International Schools. In J.  K. Kennedy & J. C.-K. Lee (Eds.), Routledge International Handbook of Schools and Schooling in Asia (pp. 261–271). Abingdon: Routledge. World Challenge. (2020). World Challenge. [Online]. Retrieved August 2020, from https://weareworldchallenge.com/uk/.

Index1

A

Accreditation, 27, 35, 45, 156–158, 160, 161, 167, 181, 184, 219, 232, 236 Administrator, xvii, 5, 12, 28–30, 44, 50, 52, 55, 67, 87, 93, 97, 98, 104, 123, 132, 136, 157, 159, 161, 162, 166, 232, 233 After school activities, xiv, xvii, 29, 51, 79, 95, 104, 141, 168, 169, 171–181 Alumni, xvii, 6, 53, 54, 61, 85, 94, 103, 128, 179, 200, 206, 208–212, 223 American, viii, xii–xv, 14, 15, 20, 33, 43, 62, 86, 93–95, 99–101, 115, 116, 119, 121, 124, 132–143, 145n10, 146, 148, 161, 169, 190, 193, 203

American cultural capital, 134–143 Anglophone, see English language Asian Community Members, 131 Association of German International Schools (AGIS), 26, 27, 153, 156, 164, 231 Athletics, 28, 32, 52, 109, 142, 143, 168, 170, 172, 174, 176–180 B

Belonging, 2, 3, 15, 16, 20, 21, 59n7, 62–64, 67, 100, 116, 117n1, 122, 152, 165, 176, 193, 195, 198, 202, 208, 210, 214, 222, 229

 Note: Page numbers followed by ‘n’ refer to notes.

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© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 H. A. Meyer, The Global Imaginary of International School Communities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-72744-4

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240 Index

Boundaries, 18–26, 32, 34, 47, 58, 65, 68, 70, 71, 75–112, 123, 124, 150, 177, 180, 181, 194, 199, 201, 214, 221, 233 Bourdieu, Pierre, 109, 112, 117n1, 146, 150, 172, 173 Brand community, 66–69 British, 13, 18, 33, 93–95, 115, 119, 147, 161, 193, 208, 209 C

Citizenship, 2, 15, 23, 35, 43n1, 50, 107, 158, 160, 161, 181, 182, 184, 233 Classroom, ix, xiii, xvii, 9, 28, 32, 41, 46, 50, 51, 55, 58, 59, 59n7, 69, 89, 91–94, 94n3, 96, 97, 103, 107, 109, 115, 116, 120, 121, 134, 139, 143, 144, 152, 153, 167, 170, 219 Clothing, 57, 59, 129, 131, 144, 145, 174, 175, 198n3 Community, xii, 42, 44–45, 61–69, 75, 116, 120, 155, 167, 189, 217 Community members, xvii, 23, 25, 28, 32, 42, 51, 54, 55, 59–61, 63–65, 68, 76, 79, 80, 82, 84, 85, 94, 96, 99, 123, 128–130, 133, 137–141, 142n7, 145, 146, 156, 157, 166, 168, 173, 174, 180, 181, 184, 193, 195, 197, 199n5, 200, 201, 205, 208, 213, 214, 217–219, 226, 229, 230, 234 Council of International Schools (CIS), 26, 45, 153, 156–163, 181, 231, 232

Counsellor, 52, 89, 146, 203, 204, 210, 225 Creativity, Activity, Service (CAS), 102–111, 128, 139, 169, 172, 234, 235 Cultural capital, 34, 109, 112, 117–118, 120, 127, 128, 133–143, 146, 151, 153, 157, 162, 177, 214, 221, 226, 230, 232, 234 Curriculum, 3, 6, 10, 18, 19, 26, 27, 34, 46–48, 55, 63, 69, 87, 88n1, 90–93, 97, 101, 102, 111, 167, 219, 220, 235, 236 Custom, xiv, xv, xvii, 9, 28, 29, 32, 51, 53, 58–60, 60n8, 67, 68, 80, 92, 94, 104, 109, 122, 123, 126–129, 131–133, 135–143, 168, 170, 172–180, 192, 198, 199, 201, 204, 205, 228, 229 D

Diploma Programme (DP), see International Baccalaureate (IB) Discourse, 8, 8n3, 19, 23, 31, 57, 60n8, 64, 69, 75, 83, 86, 93, 105, 107, 112, 155, 158, 162, 163, 174, 177, 180, 182, 194, 207, 222, 227, 228 Diversity, 9, 14, 44, 56, 57, 60, 63, 127, 132, 133, 137, 152, 162, 181, 182, 191, 230, 235 Dress, see Clothing

 Index  E

Economic capital, 143–151 Educator, see Teacher Elementary school, xiii, 27, 50, 51, 60, 89, 93, 94n3, 120, 128, 134, 137, 140, 203, 206, 207 English language, 17, 27, 86, 91–96, 111, 117, 121, 122, 126, 127, 131, 140, 161–164, 197, 219, 226, 227, 231, 232 Ethnography, xvi, 26, 28, 31, 33, 34, 93, 95, 117, 143 Europe, 11–14, 17, 28, 108, 109n5, 165n4, 169, 172, 178, 179 Event, see Custom Exclusion, 57, 75–112, 217, 227, 233 Expatriate, xiv, xvii, 3, 13–18, 13n5, 20–24, 22n13, 24n15, 26–28, 35, 62–65, 70, 76, 80, 83, 85–89, 96, 101, 103, 110, 117, 122–124, 132, 133, 146–150, 155–157, 165, 166, 173, 181, 188–192, 194, 197–200, 202–204, 208, 210, 211, 213, 214, 218–225, 227, 230, 233 Extra-curricular activity, see After school activities F

Faculty, see Teacher Family, vii–ix, xii, xiv, xv, 2–4, 8, 13, 13n5, 14, 16, 18, 26–28, 35, 44, 53, 62–64, 66, 67, 75, 76, 79, 80, 84, 85, 99, 100, 120, 123, 126, 130, 131, 150, 156, 157, 160, 163, 165–170, 173–176, 180, 187–194, 197,

241

201–208, 211, 213, 214, 222–225, 230 Festivals, xv, 28, 29, 127–129, 135–138, 176, 194, 199, 234 Friends, ix, xi–xv, 2, 8, 81, 89, 99, 100, 122, 123, 129, 137, 147, 149, 151, 180, 190–192, 196, 200, 203, 204, 206, 209, 211, 212, 223 Fundraising, 106, 109, 110, 123, 124, 135, 135n6, 190 G

German language, 9, 27n19, 92, 95–99, 197, 206 Germany, vii–ix, xii, xiv–xvi, 20, 21, 26–28, 27n19, 33, 50, 51, 56, 59, 75, 79, 84, 87, 89, 94, 99, 101, 109, 124, 138, 140, 141, 150, 164, 171n6, 172, 175, 177, 179, 180, 187–189, 191, 193–195, 197, 198, 198n3, 198n4, 203, 204, 206, 207, 209, 211, 214, 222, 227 Global citizenship, 2, 35, 43n1, 50, 55, 107, 158, 160, 161, 181, 182, 184, 217, 218, 232, 233 imaginary, 10–12, 14, 17, 23, 25, 26, 34, 35, 42, 51, 55, 61–70, 75–77, 83, 90, 91, 106, 111, 112, 116, 118, 128, 152, 153, 156, 157, 160–164, 166, 167, 175, 180–182, 184, 195, 199–201, 207, 208, 210, 214, 217–220, 224, 227, 228, 231–236

242 Index

Global-mindedness, 2, 42–46, 48–50, 52–61, 69, 86, 88, 92, 103, 110, 152, 175, 217, 232 Graduate, see Alumni H

Hernes, Tor, 81, 82, 221 Hierarchy, 19, 34, 68, 117, 118, 127, 127n3, 143, 150, 151, 162, 191, 213, 220, 223, 226, 227 High school, xvii, 27, 29, 50, 51, 75, 81, 82, 89, 96, 97, 99, 102, 108, 119, 121, 128, 134, 139, 147, 148, 204, 207 Host country, 3, 10, 13, 16–19, 25, 29, 34, 35, 48, 56, 60, 63–65, 76, 82, 83, 85–87, 100, 104, 118, 124, 151, 162, 170, 171, 174, 176, 177, 181–183, 189, 190, 199, 201, 202, 209, 212, 214, 218, 220–224, 226, 235 Host nation, see Host country Host national, xvii, 18, 19, 22, 23, 24n15, 62, 70, 75, 76, 83–87, 96, 117, 123, 143–151, 166, 195, 208, 212, 214, 220–227, 230, 233 Housing, 53, 168, 170, 173, 174, 176, 180, 194 Husband, 75, 187, 195, 200, 202 I

Identity, xiii, xiv, 3, 5, 16, 23, 25, 31, 56, 64, 65, 70, 86, 89, 89n2, 90, 93, 96, 111, 115,

120–122, 128, 145n10, 152, 163, 165, 166, 172, 174, 176, 177, 202, 211, 219, 222, 226, 229–231 Immigrant, 9, 22–24 Inclusivity, 22, 25, 44, 120, 181 Intercultural awareness, 55, 70, 87, 97, 98, 150, 152, 166, 217, 235 Intercultural understanding, see Intercultural awareness International Baccalaureate (IB), 3, 9, 16, 17, 26, 27, 27n19, 45–49, 46n3, 46n4, 51, 52, 56, 88n1, 92, 97, 102, 103, 106, 153, 156, 161, 167, 206, 207, 210 Internationality, 16, 19, 25, 55–61, 67, 70, 75, 84–86, 88, 91, 93, 94, 96, 111, 131, 151, 152, 167, 169, 172, 175, 177–179, 217, 233 Internationally mobile, see Expatriate International school, viii, xii–xvii, 1, 3–5, 5n1, 7, 7n2, 9–31, 15n7, 33–35, 42, 50, 53, 56, 58, 59, 60n8, 61–71, 75–87, 89n2, 90, 91, 93–95, 97, 99–101, 103, 105–108, 111, 112, 115–153, 155–184, 156n1, 157n2, 165n4, 171n6, 187–214, 217–236 International Schools Services (ISS), 153, 156, 157, 157n2, 161–163, 181 Isolation, 29, 180, 207

 Index  L

Labels, 2, 6, 19–23, 24n15, 25, 60, 65, 83–90, 119, 127, 132, 162, 210 Leader, see Administrator Local, viii, x, xii, xiv, xv, 5–7, 7n2, 9–10, 13, 15–19, 23, 25, 28, 29, 31, 34, 47, 49, 56, 63, 65, 70, 75–112, 118, 119, 121, 129, 133, 135, 137–139, 142, 146, 149–151, 153, 158, 162, 167, 171n6, 174–176, 178–180, 182–184, 192–199, 201, 202, 204–208, 212–214, 217–226, 231, 233–236 Local imaginary, 10, 23–25 M

Marginalisation, see Exclusion Market, 6, 11, 14, 16–19, 22, 25, 27, 34, 42, 64, 66, 69, 70, 76, 77, 83, 139, 143, 157, 162, 163, 165, 167, 180, 181, 217, 218, 231, 232, 234–236 Marriage, 188, 202 Mental boundaries, 77–90, 103, 105, 111, 221 Middle school, 27, 50, 89, 92, 96, 99, 102, 128 Middle Years Programme (MYP), see International Baccalaureate (IB) Migrant, xii, 4, 9, 10, 21, 23–26, 24n15, 64, 165, 197, 203, 224, 225 Migration, 21, 22, 25, 181, 188, 236 Mission statement, 49, 69, 232 Mobility, xvi, 4, 10, 14, 17, 24n15, 25, 27, 34, 35, 45, 70, 76, 78,

243

81, 82, 85–87, 99, 100, 103, 111, 112, 117, 120, 127, 155, 156, 179, 181, 182, 184, 192, 201, 207, 208, 213, 214, 217, 218, 222, 224, 226, 233–235 Mother, viii, 1, 28, 32, 33, 48, 66, 75, 81, 83, 85, 122, 124, 127, 132–134, 143, 180, 190–192, 195, 198, 202–204, 206, 207, 225 N

Nationalities, 11, 14, 16, 18, 24n15, 33, 34, 55–61, 64, 70, 83, 86, 91, 96, 116–121, 123, 124, 126–133, 135, 136, 145, 146, 149, 151–153, 175, 176, 179, 199, 211, 226–231, 234–236 Network, xvii, 3, 11, 13, 17, 25, 28, 29, 31, 34, 35, 45, 61, 62, 66, 79–81, 84, 85, 100, 104, 105, 118, 122–124, 147, 150, 153, 155–184, 190, 193–195, 197, 199–204, 208, 213, 214, 218, 220, 225, 227, 231–235 P

Parents, viii, ix, xi–xiii, xvii, 9, 21, 22, 28, 29, 46, 47, 49, 53, 55, 59, 61, 62, 69, 77, 79–81, 88–90, 92, 95, 98, 99, 109, 119, 122, 124, 125, 127–129, 134, 135, 137, 139, 141–143, 145–147, 149–152, 160, 169, 171, 173, 180, 181, 191, 193, 196, 197, 199–202, 204, 206, 207, 210, 211, 214, 220, 221, 224–226, 229, 231, 234

244 Index

Physical boundaries, 77–79, 81–83, 100, 103, 124 Polarisation, 7, 34, 195, 218, 219, 222, 226, 230 Primary Years Programme (PYP), see International Baccalaureate (IB) Privilege, 4, 5, 5n1, 12, 24, 146, 234 Q

Quality assurance, see Accreditation R

Recruitment, 35, 87, 156, 157, 161–163, 181, 182, 231–233, 236 Repatriation, xv, 20, 35, 209–211 Rhetoric, 53, 85, 87, 97, 103, 137, 179, 227 Ritual, see Custom

Sports, 27–29, 32, 51, 53, 79, 80, 115, 128, 167, 169, 171–175, 171n6, 177–180, 194, 199, 199n5, 200, 205 Sportverein, 171, 171n6, 173, 175, 182, 199–201, 199n5, 204 Spouse, 191, 202, 203, 225 Staff, xvi, xvii, 28–30, 46, 49, 58, 59, 61–63, 69, 77, 85, 87, 90, 91, 93–96, 102–104, 109, 128, 131, 134, 136, 138, 139, 141, 145, 145n11, 151, 152, 160, 162, 164, 169, 170, 199, 200, 205, 219, 220, 223, 232, 233 Students, ix, 2, 42, 75, 115, 167–170, 200, 219 Symbols, 2, 4–10, 21, 25, 41–43, 45, 46, 50, 51, 62–64, 66–69, 76, 77, 115, 116, 118, 120, 129–132, 138, 160, 170, 172, 174–178, 181, 183, 217, 218, 230, 232, 236

S

School culture, 91, 118, 139, 146, 147, 151, 156, 228 Social boundaries, 81, 82, 88 Social imaginary, 8–10, 8n3, 18, 22, 31, 64, 70, 83, 85, 86, 90, 96, 111, 163, 166, 172, 218, 220, 232, 236 Socialisation, 8, 28, 82, 100, 121, 122, 127, 128, 147, 196, 211, 213, 228 Social structure, see Hierarchy Spanish language, viii, 86, 96, 101, 102, 131, 209

T

Tanu, Danau, 14, 15, 59, 63, 65, 85, 93, 95, 111, 117, 118, 122, 134, 145, 165, 205, 219, 223, 226 Teacher, ix, xi, xiii, xvii, 6, 8, 10, 28, 29, 33, 48–52, 54, 55, 58, 59, 62, 83, 86, 87, 89, 92–94, 97, 107–109, 115, 116, 120–122, 125–127, 135, 145, 148, 152, 153, 157, 160–162, 166, 170, 200, 219, 220, 223, 226, 232, 233, 236

 Index 

Third Culture Kid (TCK), xvi, 15, 20–23, 64, 86–90, 89n2, 162, 163, 165–166, 211, 222–225, 227 Track and field, see Athletics Tradition, see Custom Transition, ix, xiii, 3, 13, 29, 35, 47, 49, 64, 84, 89, 100, 123, 149, 156, 166, 182, 184, 187–204, 208–210, 212, 213, 222–225 Travel, x, 4, 10, 29, 97, 101–102, 106–110, 112, 117n1, 141, 167–172, 174, 175, 181, 183, 198, 208, 234 Trips, see Travel

245

United States (U.S.), viii, xii, xv, 1, 14, 15n7, 20, 23n14, 33, 94, 94n3, 99, 100, 104, 115, 124, 131, 134, 135, 135n6, 138–140, 142, 142n7, 145, 145n11, 161, 163, 187, 189–191, 206–208, 227, 231 University, xi, xv, xvi, 1, 2, 6, 10, 16, 17, 27, 27n19, 42, 49, 66, 95, 99, 100, 109, 160, 162–164, 167, 179, 206, 208, 209, 211, 212, 214, 223, 227, 231, 233, 236 V

Vulnerabilities, 30, 64, 65, 103, 192, 197, 211, 221

U

United Kingdom (U.K.), 6, 18, 25, 28, 49, 131, 161, 163, 164, 206, 209, 231

W

Women, 124, 187, 189, 192, 197, 202