Quality and social justice in refugee education: Syrian refugee students’ experiences of integration into national education systems in Jordan

ABSTRACT

The past decade has seen a policy shift from separate and parallel education systems for refugees to integration into national education systems. The benefits from integration, including longer-term planning, more sustainable funding and opportunities to improve the quality of education are highlighted in the literature. However, there has been less attention to how integration is implemented in practice, how different models of integration are experienced by refugee students, and the extent to which they provide quality education and advance social justice for refugee students. This paper draws on Nancy Fraser’s principle of parity of participation and integration theory to examine Syrian refugee students’ perspectives across three models of integration in Jordan (camp, second shift and host community schools). Drawing on qualitative and quantitative data, we highlight how each model gives rise to social arrangements which, in different ways, impede socially just and equitable education.

KEYWORDS:

• Refugee education
• social justice
• quality education
• integration
• Jordan

Introduction

Refugee children today often spend their entire childhood and transition into adulthood in their contexts of displacement, constructing their aspirations and ideas of the future away from their original homes. The UNHCR estimated that by the end of 2019, 77% of refugees were in protracted displacement situations of at least 5 years (UNHCR 2019). To recognise their long-term needs, the past decade has seen significant shifts in policies and approaches with a growing emphasis on quality and sustainability in education. In particular, in 2012, the UNHCR promoted the integration of refugees into host countries’ national education systems, marking a profound shift in education policy away from parallel education systems where refugees learned the curriculum and language of their home country (Kelcey and Chatila 2020). These policies have important implications, drifting from previous understandings that displacement is short-lived and that refugee education is a stop gap, emergency response (e.g. INEE 2004; UNHCR 2003).

Integration is seen as improving the quality of refugee education by providing access to the curriculum, resources, trained teachers and national accreditation of established education systems, and the more sustained funding attached to national systems (Bellino and Dryden-Peterson 2019). The approach is reflected in the 2015 UN-sponsored Refugee Response and Resilience Plan (UNHCR 2015)) in response to the Syrian crisis considered a paradigm shift for aligning humanitarian responses and longer-term development goals of nation states to improve education and sustainable livelihood opportunities for both refugee and host citizens in Syria’s neighbouring countries. The plan heavily supported the integration of Syrian refugees in the national education systems of Jordan, Lebanon and Turkey, leading to different forms of integration models across camp and non-camp settings.

Despite integration into national schools becoming the preferred approach identified in global policy and regional plans, integration remains a contested concept. Much of the integration literature originates in the global north, where refugees are more likely to be settling permanently into a nation state, eventually acquiring citizenship, and where children have generally always been integrated into strong national education systems. In these countries, refugee integration is generally understood as a holistic process occurring across multiple domains, rather than as occurring in a single domain such as education (Ager and Strang 2008; Heckmann 2005; Hynie, Korn, and Tao 2016; Phillimore et al. 2021). These models encompass markers of integration, often referred to as structural integration, such as access to education, employment, health and housing. Education is recognised as a critical ‘integrator’ in that access to education is not only a marker of integration, but also it is a means by which further integration can be achieved. Importantly, theories of integration draw attention to other domains of integration which support and facilitate access to these markers of integration, including language, cultural knowledge, and crucially, sense of safety, social connections and relationships (Ager and Strang 2008; Strang and Ager 2010; Hynie, Korn, and Tao 2016; Ndofor-Tah et al. 2019). In relation to refugee children, empirical research has particularly highlighted the importance of positive social relationships to sense of belonging, safety and well-being (e.g. Nakeyar, Esses, and Reid 2017; Correa-Velez, Gifford, and McMichael 2015; Chopra and Dryden-Petersen 2020). Scholarship recognises integration as a multi-level policy issue (e.g Penninx and Garcés-Mascareñas 2016; Alexander 2003); the drive to integrate refugee children into national education systems is agreed and supported at global and national levels, but it is implemented at a local level. The framework of constraints and opportunities of a specific locality are critical to experiences and outcomes (Glick-Schiller and Caglar 2016), which raises the fundamental question of integration into what? (Grzymala-Kazlowska and Phillimore 2018; Morrice 2019). These insights from integration theory illuminate some important challenges for refugee education. Firstly, the importance of understanding integration as a multi-dimensional holistic concept: refugee children are integrated into a national education system but as non-citizens they are denied wider integration and civic rights, and the narrow focus on education occludes other domains of integration such as social relations and safety which are critical to education. Secondly, the importance of recognising the socio-cultural and economic context in which integration occurs: national education systems in conflict-affected areas are often of low quality (Dryden-Peterson et al. 2019), and refugees are often concentrated among the most vulnerable and deprived of the host community population (Verme et al. 2016), meaning that in urban areas they are integrating into already over-stretched school systems which struggle to achieve quality education for national children. For refugee children living in camps, the question of integration into what? becomes even more pertinent. Is the aim and purpose of education to support integration into a future life in the camp, or into a nation-state (yet to be defined), or a future outside the nation-state framing of integration theories? These questions lie at the heart of how refugee education is conceptualised, and how the purposes of education intersect with uncertainties and multiple possible futures for refugees (Dryden-Peterson 2017; Dryden-Peterson et al. 2019).

Integration into national education systems brings long overdue attention to whether education for refugees is socially just (Brun and Shuayb 2020), and alongside SDG4’s call that by 2030 all should experience ‘inclusive and equitable education … including … refugees’ (United Nations 2015) has stirred important debates around quality, inclusion, and equity for refugee students. Integration is assumed to promote social inclusion, reduce tensions within host communities, and create more equal societies (Dryden-Petersen et al. 2019; Dryden-Peterson et al. 2018). Fostering social cohesion is described as ‘fundamental to the policies that have prompted inclusion of refugees into government schools’ (Dryden-Peterson et al. 2018, 13). The Jordan Response Plan, for example, identifies educational settings as central spaces to respond to tensions and build acceptance between communities (JRP 2019).

However, recent studies have argued for the need to further understand integration policies in practice, their potential and their implications on the lived experiences of students (Salem 2021; Bellino and Dryden-Peterson 2019; Kelcey and Chatila 2020). This paper attempts to address this gap through examining how Syrian refugee students experience and perceive the different ways they are integrated into Jordan’s national education system. Jordan has taken in over 660,000 Syrian refugees since 2011, over 90 per cent of whom reside outside of camps, living in some of Jordan’s most vulnerable urban areas (Ministry of Planning and Coordination 2020). It has expanded its education system to provide school places for around 232,000 Syrian children, largely through increasing double-shift schooling (Small 2020). Across camp and non-camp settings, Syrian refugee students follow the Jordanian curriculum and its accreditation system and are taught by Jordanian teachers. The following settings represent different models of inclusion in Jordan (Dryden-Peterson et al. 2018; Younes and Morrice 2019; Small 2020).

• Camp schools: Syrian refugee students in camps access the national school system, though they are geographically separated from the Jordanian community. They follow the same curriculum, accreditation system, and benefit from teachers trained by the Ministry of Education (MoE). Jordan has two major camps, Zaatari and Azraq, and camps schools represent 1% of MoE schools. Classes typically last 30–35 min.

• Second-shift schools: Syrian refugees in urban and rural settings access the same physical buildings and structures as Jordanian students but are temporally segregated by shifts. Syrian refugee students attend the afternoon shift, while Jordanian students attend the morning shift. Teachers may teach across both shifts, though this is not always the case. 5% of MoE schools are second-shift schools. Classes in the afternoon shift typically last around 35–40 min.

• Host community schools: Approximately 7% of schools in Jordan are fully integrated, in which Syrian refugees and Jordanian students attend classrooms at the same time in shared spaces. These schools have between 10 and 50% Syrian students.

• Regular schools: These schools cater almost exclusively for Jordanian students, with fewer than 10% Syrian refugee students. Nearly 87% of MoE schools are regular Jordanian schools. Some regular schools are co-located with afternoon shifts in the morning and have slightly shorter hours compared to host community schools in order to accommodate the Syrian second shift.

In the following section, we outline our conceptualisation of quality education and social justice, adopting Nancy Fraser’s framework of parity of participation. We then draw on a unique set of data collected across school types in Jordan to examine Syrian refugee students’ experiences across three models of integration: camp, second shift and host community, highlighting the different ways in which students perceive them to be inclusive, equitable and providing quality education. The findings present sharp contrasts between educational experiences, contributing to understandings of integration models and the challenges that affect participatory parity across settings. Our paper addresses two linked questions. Firstly, how do the experiences of Syrian students differ across the three educational models. Secondly, to what extent do each of the models provide quality education and advance social justice for Syrian refugee students in Jordan? In doing so, we address a gap in understanding of the different educational experiences of refugee students across these settings (Dryden-Peterson et al. 2018). By foregrounding the understandings of refugee children, we contribute to work which seeks to recognise the experiences of refugees, and their right and capacity to express themselves on issues that affect them (Alderson and Marrow 2011; Kellett et al., 2003).

Quality education and social justice

Quality education for children affected by conflict and displacement is viewed as essential to securing basic rights that enable pathways towards the future (Albakri and Shibli 2019). While human rights-based perspectives of quality education initially focused on the expansion of human capital and economy, recent debates recognise that education is not only about content and the development of human capital but also about the experiences students have, the values promoted, and the potential to create more progressive social justice (Brissett and Mitter 2017; Tikly and Barrett 2012; Tikly 2011; Sayed and Moriarty 2020). For example, Sayed and Moriarty conclude that the notion of quality in education is a dynamic process, oriented towards social justice and that ‘If education is not equitable, either in terms of access or in the way it is experienced, then it cannot be considered quality education.’ (Sayed and Moriarty 2020).

Our approach to quality refugee education builds on an existing body of social-justice oriented scholarship which draws on the work of Nancy Fraser (2007, 2008a, 2008b). Fraser’s framework seeks to examine (mal)distribution, (mis)recognition, and (mis)representation, arguing that

‘ … justice requires social arrangements that permit all to participate as peers in social life. Overcoming injustice means dismantling institutionalised obstacles that prevent some people from participating on a par with others as full partners in social interaction’ (Fraser 2008a, 36).

Redistribution, recognition and representation are three mutually irreducible and overlapping dimensions of justice. Redistribution requires that groups have the resources and opportunities that they need in order to interact with others as peers. Distributive injustice or maldistribution impedes full participation and results in social injustice. The second dimension of recognition is conceptualised as a matter of social status and requires that all groups are recognised as full members in social interaction and can participate on an equal basis with other groups. Misrecognition arises when institutions structure interactions according to social norms that impede parity of participation of some members of society (Fraser 2008a). The third dimension – representation is political and requires equal voice in decision-making (Fraser 2008b). The most serious form of misrepresentation is misframing, which she describes as a ‘meta-injustice’ as it excludes groups from consideration in respect to distribution, recognition and representation. As refugees are, by definition, non-citizens of the nation state which hosts them, they are at a stroke misframed, and unequal social arrangements and treatment compared to citizens is legitimised.

There is a fairly expansive body of education scholarship which draws on and develops Fraser’s work (e.g. Keddie 2012; Tikly and Barrett 2012; Novelli, Lopez Cardozo and Smith 2017; Novelli and Sayed 2016). For example, Keddie (2012) applies Fraser’s framework to indigenous education in Australia to examine how different dimensions of injustice are currently hindering school participation, engagement and outcomes of marginalised students. Cautioning against using Fraser’s model as ‘an ideal of justice that is static and uncomplicated’ she argues instead that it can offer ‘a productive lens for thinking about and addressing’ different dimensions of injustice (2012, 276). Tikly and Barrett (2012) argue that in low-income contexts a social justice approach, combined with capabilities approach, offers a starting point ‘for reconceptualising education quality and how it can be evaluated (2011, 3). Exploring the role of education in conflict-affected contexts, Novelli, Lopez Cardozo and Smith (2017) extend Fraser’s social justice dimensions of redistribution, recognition and representation with a fourth dimension of reconciliation to ‘deal with historic and present tensions, grievances, and injustices in order to build a more sustainable peaceful society’ (2017, 24). Essential to recognition and reconciliation is a curriculum which affirms and recognises students’ diversities and provides opportunities to address fractured relationships. Integration into national education systems inevitably means that refugee students follow a curriculum which excludes their histories and culture and in which they are marginalised.

The normative student is a national student and refugees occupy an institutionalised subordinate status. Set within a social justice framework the prescribed national curriculum institutionalises the lack of value and invisibility of the culture and experiences of refugees, and through misrecognition and status inequality impedes parity of participation of refugee students on a par with students who are citizens. Culturally inclusive and relevant curriculum which connect with histories, cultures, contributions and perspectives of students is well established in education equity policy (e.g. Banks 2004; Kanu 2007; Keddie 2012), and yet this key principle of an inclusive and socially just education is rarely applied to refugee education. For refugee students within national education systems, the teaching of the host national curriculum is presented as politically non-negotiable (Dryden-Peterson 2020).

In our analysis of refugee education in Jordan, we highlight four key themes in relation to social justice: the distribution of teaching and learning resources (infrastructure and facilities); the maldistribution of teacher time and the impact this has on pastoral support and engagement with available learning resources; the critical importance of social connections and safety for socially just education; and finally, national certification and the institutionalised barriers which impede students’ participation in post-school opportunities. Drawing on insights from integration theory and Fraser’s parity of participation, the paper concludes with a discussion of how each model gives rise to social arrangements which, in different ways, impede socially just and equitable education for refugee students.

Methodology

This paper draws on data from a much larger data set collected as part of an examination of social cohesion across school types in Jordan (Anonymised). The findings draw on a student survey with 2,884 students in grades 6 and 9 from 32 MoE schools: host community (n = 15), second shift (n = 10), camp (n = 4) and regular (n = 3). The sample was selected across urban and rural areas and comprises schools which had both grades 6 and 9, so larger schools are over-represented; we also selected host community schools with larger numbers of Syrian students. Camp schools are over-represented in our sample as our original dataset compared schools in Azraq and Zaatari camps. All the regular schools in the sample were shifted schools, co-located with Syrian second-shift schools. The small number of regular schools is not reflective of the national education system in Jordan, and quantitative data are presented for the purposes of comparison. Qualitative data are drawn from 10 focus group discussions (FGDs) with 80 students in grade 9. Potential participants for the focus groups were selected at random from the school register and invited to participate. Three FGDs were conducted in host community girls’ schools, four in second-shift boys’ schools, two in Azraq camp schools (one male and one female), and one at a girls’ school in Zaatari camp. Students were asked three broad questions in the focus groups: what they liked and disliked about school, their experiences of teaching and learning, and their relationships in school and socialising generally. The findings additionally touch on interview data with teachers (N = 20) and school principals (N = 29). Qualitative data were first coded and analysed thematically (Braun and Clarke 2006) according to school type, before comparing themes across the study through an iterative process. Data analysis followed a concurrent design in which focus group, survey data and interview data informed each other (Johnson and Onwuegbuzie 2004; Creswell and Creswell 2018).

Data were collected by local researchers under the guidance and supervision of the research team.¹ Data for this paper were analysed by the authors. Morrice visited school settings for the pilot phase of the research study and worked closely with the local researchers to clarify any details about the data. Salem is an Arabic speaker originally from the Levant region, enabling analysis stages to be completed in Arabic using the original transcripts with an understanding of the local dialect and use of phrases. Full ethical approval for the study was granted by the University of Sussex. Further details of the methodology and larger study is available (Morrice et al. 2021). Participant names have been replaced with pseudonyms.

Student experience of education quality and social justice across setting

Experiences of teaching and learning resources across models

School resources varied across school settings. Across all settings, students talked about issues related to conditions of their schools, including issues related to heating, facilities, and more creative spaces. These factors where most pressing at camp schools, however, where students experienced multiple layers of exclusion. In discussing these issues, students at camp schools expressed a strong preference for living and attending schools outside of camps. The exchange below is taken from one of the focus groups in which the male students tried to explain the reasons why they do not like their school in Azraq camp.

I: tell me, what else, what else do you not like? You don’t like the teachers, what else?

Sami: everything

I: can you be more specific?

Sami: the atmosphere inside the classroom

M: what do you mean?

Nizar: it’s hot

Ziad: it’s burning hot

I: it’s hot?

Fadi: and in the winter it’s cold

I: it’s cold in the winter okay

Sami: sir, the atmosphere inside the class doesn’t let a teacher know how to explain or anything. When the teacher explains something, I don’t really understand him because of the classroom’s atmosphere. The class is depressing which makes all the students depressed

I: what makes the class depressing?

Ziad: the temperature, temperature, and the classroom is always dusty which is uncomfortable

I: okay what else other than the heat, cold, shouting, noise and … what else can you tell me about the atmosphere of the classes?

Fadi: the walls

I: what about them?

Fadi: they have scribbles all over them, there isn’t an empty spot on them

I: they have writings all over?

Fadi: yes, you’d think you’re in prison

Sami: I don’t like the whole school sir

I: OK … give me reasons

Sami: didn’t you see?

I: What do you not like about it?

Sami: everything, everything, everything

I: tell me exactly so we’d know

Sami: the teachers, the principal, the students, the counsellor … Whatever you want … the seats sir, the tables, the chairs

I: how would you like them to be?

Sami: organized. I feel like nothing is organized here … It’s all over the place

I: okay … What would you do to make them organized? What should they do?

Sami: whatever you do, whatever you do, it’ll get back to how it was, you need to start all over

I: what’s the solution?

Sami: the solution is that there is no solution.

The extract highlights the nature and scale of the problems that Sami and his peers were experiencing in school and the overwhelming hopelessness that textures their school lives. The intractability of the challenges of providing quality education in the context of inadequate infrastructure of camp contexts is noted in the literature (e.g. Van Esveld 2016; Bellino and Dryden-Peterson 2019). It is recognised that camp schools struggle to provide basic infrastructure, such as library and computing facilities, and the electricity to power PCs (NRC 2018). Focus groups with students at both Zaatari and Azraq camps spoke of noisy classrooms, extremes of temperature, broken classroom furniture and lack of electricity which made it difficult to concentrate in the classroom. Students in camp schools also said they didn’t have access to science laboratories or computers, so subjects with a practical element such as biology, chemistry and computing are taught by ‘just copying, dictation and memorizing’ with few opportunities for hands-on practice (Zataari female school). Male students at a focus group at Azraq camp school noted that they did not engage in any practical forms of learning because the school lacks laboratories and tools. One student reflected: ‘we are supposed to learn about solutions and mixtures, but we don’t have a laboratory for biology or chemistry’. Other students mentioned that they were never able to use computers as there was no electricity.

Syrian students in camps were clearly aware of this maldistribution of resources and that ‘studying outside is much better than here’ (Azraq male school). Some of the students at camps had previously studied at double-shift schools in urban settings and had reported that schools outside camps had access to learning resources such as science laboratories and a more conducive learning environment with better teachers. The teachers were perceived to care more about students, they ensured that students in earlier grades made progress and understood, as opposed to just allowing them to pass so that by the time students reached grade 9 ‘half the students don’t understand a thing’ (Azraq male school).

they explain better over there, there’s homework everyday … When they give you homework you study step by step with the teacher … Whereas here, they don’t give you much homework … You feel pressured, and they blame you’ (Azraq male school).

This supports Bellino and Dryden-Peterson’s (2019) research that young people in Kakuma camp schools desired to ‘integrate up’, i.e. out of camps into what were perceived to be higher quality government schools outside of the camp. It also highlights the problem of inexperienced teachers in camp and second-shift schools who are first-time teachers on temporary contracts that do not include the same benefits as teachers in regular schools, leading to low job satisfaction and high turnover (Small 2020). But it was not just the quality of the school infrastructure, the teachers and access to learning resources which mattered to students. They also spoke of their isolation from the ‘outside world’ and the inevitable detachment from the wider opportunities Jordanian society could offer. Students in camps reported that they were not able to participate in school trips and enrichment activities outside the camp. As one of the participants lamented ‘they don’t let us go out and discover nice things, I mean some people came straight to the camp and have never been out of it’ (Zaatari female school). Students in camps clearly identified the material conditions and geographical isolation of camps as preventing them participating fully in their learning. Seen through Fraser’s ‘perspectival dualism’ of redistribution and recognition they experience maldistribution of material resources and misrecognition through institutionalised barriers which prevent them participating in social life beyond the confines of the camps.

Time as a resource in refugee education

At host community schools and the majority of regular schools, lessons typically run for 45 minutes. Camp schools, however, have 22% fewer hours of instruction than second-shift schools and 34% less than host community schools (Small 2020), and yet the impact of time on the experiences of refugee students is less prominent in the refugee education literature. For students in camp and Syrian second-shift schools, the maldistribution of time, and particularly teacher time, was a dominant theme in their lives and one which they perceived as impacting on the quality of their education in multiple ways. Students reported that there was not enough time to cover the subject matter and no time to ask teachers to explain when they did not understand. As one male student reported ‘if you go to a teacher, you're using time that he needs to explain the lesson … you’re ruining it for him’ (Azraq male school). Students in another focus group agreed that ‘once the teacher is done with the books, she will allow students to ask questions, but she can’t take all the questions. They allow us to ask, but time is very limited’ (Zaatari female school). Teachers were also perceived as not having time to provide the pastoral support students needed. Both male and female students in camps spoke of the many problems that they faced in life, not only in school but also with their parents and families, with life in the camp generally and concerns about the future. Although the social and emotional needs of refugee students are recognised in the literature (e.g. Barber 2021; Winthrop and Kirk 2008), a constant theme was that no one had time to help them, there was no one to talk to about their problems and worries as everyone was too busy. Teachers and principals recognised the need for greater support and spoke of the struggle to provide individualised attention and support to students; but as one camp teacher said ‘The class is only 30 min long. What do you expect me to know about their personal lives? (Azraq male school).

Students also reported that there was no time to engage in more creative or practical activities at school. At host community schools where students have more learning time, many students also felt that their classroom sessions were not engaging; a student expressed that some classes stretched on for what seem to be ‘hours’ rather than minutes (integrated female school). However, reduced school hours at second-shift schools also removed access to breaks, art classes, sports, and other vocational subjects. Reduced classroom time also impacted learning, as noted by students at a camp school, who described the impact of the time pressures, ‘ … in chemistry, you need to study the basics … go over the basics and revise them, but he doesn’t have time. Even in sports we barely have time to go out and come back … we end up playing for 2 or 3 min’ (Azraz male school). Existing literature highlights how more learner-centred and participatory approaches to teaching and learning in low-income refugee contexts are hampered by lack of resources, overcrowding and either a lack of training or willingness of teachers to engage them (Mendenhall et al. 2015; Schweisfurth 2015). However, the findings from the student survey indicate that it is time which is a key barrier to students engaging in more participative activities at school, and not necessarily the availability of resources. The student survey asked students how often they used a PC at school and how often they visited the school library. Sixty-four percent of Syrian students in camps reported that they never used a PC at school and 72% reported that they never went to the school library. This was closely followed by Syrian students at second-shift schools where 61% reported never using a PC at school and 59% reported that they never went to the school library, this is despite Syrian second-shift schools in our study being co-located and having access to the same facilities as regular schools. The highest usage of PCs and going to the library was reported at host community schools where just 23% of students reported never using a PC or going to the library. At regular schools, which have a slightly shorter day to accommodate the Syrian afternoon shift, 40% of students reported never using a PC and 41% of students reported never going to the library. Teachers and principals confirmed that lack of time was a barrier to more participative and learner focused teaching approaches that they would like to practise. Under pressure to deliver the curriculum and for students to pass standardised end of year tests, they resorted to rote learning and lecture style teaching, practices reported in other refugee settings (Mendenhall et al. 2015; Bellino 2018). This finding highlights the problem of conceptions of quality education based on a narrow range of accountability measures (end of year tests) which do not give adequate attention to teacher pedagogy, student learning and context (Alexander 2015; Barrett et al. 2015; Schweisfurth 2015).

The maldistribution of teacher time in camps, and to a slightly lesser extent in second shift schools, presented an obstacle to parity of participation for Syrian students in terms of individualised learning and pastoral support, and opportunities for a more practice-based and enriching curriculum. Inequality of time and the pressure to prioritise cognitive learning outcomes intersects with and are exacerbated by the distinct support needs of refugee students which are not recognised or prioritised. A further sense of injustice was highlighted by second-shift students who compared the quality of their afternoon shift unfavourably with the morning shift. Not only did the morning shift have a longer school day, but also the evening timing was also unpopular ‘ … if you want to attend the evening shift you’ll ruin your whole day as you will only arrive home, eat and sleep directly, you won’t be able to do anything else’ (second-shift male school). Teachers in the afternoon shift were described as being ‘too tired’ to teach effectively, as ‘not caring’ enough whether students studied and passed exams. One student summarised the situation as ‘the teacher is taking his salary both ways, so he doesn’t really care about the evening shift like he cares about the day shift’ (second-shift male school). These findings echo research in Lebanon which found that both the teachers and students were better supported with more activities and space for leisure in the morning shift (Abla and Al-Masri 2015). Here, the injustice of maldistribution of time intersects with misrecognition and the structuring of schooling into shifts which do not offer parity of participation for Syrian students. The status of refugee relegates Syrian students to the less popular afternoon shift where their treatment and support (and that of their teachers) is less favourable that their peers in the morning, violating the requirements of social justice.

In the following section, we consider further domains recognised as critical in integration theory: social relationships and safety across different education models.

Social connections and feelings of safety and belonging across contexts

The integration literature emphasises the importance of adopting a holistic approach to integrating refugees and identifies several critical domains to consider, including social connections between people and between institutions, safety and sense of belonging. The importance of considering these other domains for the quality of education for Syrian students is revealed in findings which show how Syrian student experiences differed depending on the nature of the social connections that were available to them, and how social relationships impacted their sense of safety and belonging. Foundational to quality education is a sense of safety in and around school. All students having equal access to a safe journey to and through their learning is identified as distributive social justice (Novelli, Lopez Cardozo and Smith 2017). Numerous studies have highlighted journeys to school as a concern for refugee students (Burde et al. 2017; Small 2020). Studies have also shown that the shifted model of education where nationals attend school in the morning and refugees in the afternoon can lead to increased tension between nationalities (Brun and Shuayb 2020; Dryden-Peterson et al. 2019). For example, Abla and Al-Masri (2015) found negative perceptions and tensions between Syrian refugees and Lebanese nationals in shifted schools which manifested in harassment and violence in the transition between shifts and more harmonious relationships when Syrian and Lebanese children were in mixed nationality settings.

Our findings mirror these, and also highlight important gender differences in the way male and female students experienced safety and the implications for their education. Focus groups with Syrian students at second-shift schools described tensions around schools, especially during the switch-over period between shifts, as well as after-school hours following second shifts. Male students at Syrian second-shift schools described being physically hurt and threatened, whereas female students were more likely to report fears of being verbally abused and harassed. Syrian students in second-shift schools directly related these forms of violence to nationality and their status as refugees, reporting threats from Jordanian students such as ‘we will report you and send you back to Syria’ (male second-shift school). When incidents occurred, Syrian students described how they felt frightened, unwelcome, and discriminated against. Some spoke of trying to hide their Syrian identity by disguising their accents to avoid being targeted.

The shifted system and the asynchronous sharing of school spaces also made it difficult for students to create a sense of belonging and attachment to school. Syrian students acutely felt their lack of membership and belonging to the school which was ‘owned’ by Jordanian students, as one male student said ‘You feel like the school is theirs and we are using it’. In another focus group students expressed their sense of alienation and powerlessness agreeing that ‘ … it feels like we are here, displaced and refugees, and they are in their country prioritised and preferred’, and ‘we feel like we are from another world’. Syrian students also reported that they were always asked to clean the classrooms, whereas Jordanian students were not, and, as a result, they felt that they ‘aren’t treated equally like Jordanians because we are asked to clean’. This issue created a divide between nationalities and a sense of inequality and social injustice, a finding echoing other studies (Salem 2021; Van Esveld 2016).

In camp schools, as suggested in the quote at the start of the findings section, the lack of comfortable classrooms and facilities impeded students’ sense of attachment and belonging to school. However, camp students also expressed concerns about social relationships and safety, highlighting how misrecognition was not limited to nationality. In the camp context, the differences that mattered and became pertinent were urban/rural/regional/economic and social differences, overlayed with strong ideological differences related to the conflict in Syria. Students in camps talked about stereotypes and bullying centring on differences in skin tones and accents due to students being from different cities and villages in Syria (Azraq male school). Similarly, a discussion with female students highlighted how many of them felt ‘estranged’ and ‘uncomfortable’ in their classrooms due to students’ differences in cultures, practises, and attitudes (Zatari female school). Teacher and principal interviews also highlighted high levels of tension between Syrian students in camps.²

A one principal commented:

The [camp] society itself is not in harmony; the different makeup of the society (bedouin, city, village) as well as the different social classes, with regard to financial status and educational status. Every sector has its own traditions and values; dealing with parents that are not educated differs a lot from dealing with those who are (Principal Azraq camp school)

Teachers, principals and students reported that tensions play out in and around the school. Syrian students whether in camps or second-shift schools did not have access to a culturally and socio-politically relevant curriculum which allows students to ‘historicize their realities’ (Bajaj, Argenal, and Canlas 2017) and to develop a positive sense of identity which might transcend regional, class or ideological differences. Coupled with the maldistribution of time, opportunities to develop the tools and skills to navigate differences in mediated or safe spaces is absent. The importance of reconciliation was particularly pertinent to Syrian students in camps who were managing the tensions and legacies of conflict on a daily basis and emerged to a lesser in second-shift Syrian schools.

Inequalities about safety around schools was particularly acute for female students and affected how they perceived their futures. The student survey measured the perception of safety on the journey between home and school using a 3-point scale. Students were asked to respond to the following statements: ‘I am afraid of being beaten or abused’ and ‘I am afraid of being shouted at’. The student survey found that female students are much more likely to report being afraid than their male peers. Rates of fear were highest at Syrian second-shift schools where 60% of female students reported always or sometimes feeling afraid and slightly lower at camp schools where 57% of female students at camp schools reported sometimes or always feeling afraid. This compares to 46% at both host community and at regular schools. For Syrian female students at both camp and second-shift schools parental fear for their safety was cited as a key reason why they were unlikely to continue in education as their parents sought to protect them through early marriage. Syrian refugees in Jordan are at continued risk of leaving school early; financial hardship, coupled with safety concerns lead to gender-based responses, including child marriage for female students and child labour for male students (Delprato, Morrice, and Al-Nahi 2019; Morrice et al. 2021; Small 2020).

Considering the relational aspects of integration across the models of integration illuminates which differences become socially significant for whom, how these differences are experienced, and most importantly how these impact on social justice. Findings suggest that Syrian refugee students experienced unequal access to safe journeys to school across camp and second-shift schools, and that female Syrian students in particular experience differential access to safe journeys, with consequences for their futures. In non-camp settings, misrecognition is based on nationality and is formally institutionalised by the shifted system which segregates nationalities and presents few opportunities to develop positive social connections and relationships. Students in host community schools reported fewer tensions and less fear about their journey to school. During focus group discussions with two separate host community schools, students felt that there was limited discrimination between Syrian and Jordanian students at their schools. One student stated that while there are Syrians at schools, they ‘don’t prefer to ask them if they are refugees […] she is a normal just like us’. Instead, students were concerned about tensions between students whose marks and performance ranked more highly than those who did not. A female student at a Syrian host community school that while she had previously experienced bullying, she did not feel discriminated against. She felt that she was able to experience belonging in Jordan after having lived for years in Jordan and because her father’s work would enable them to acquire the Jordanian passport in the future. The reduced sense of tension at host community schools supports recent agendas, including the Refugee Education Strategy 2030 (UNHCR 2019), to integrate refugee and host students in classrooms at the same time. These findings show that across more segregated settings, misrecognition of gender and maldistribution of social justice prevented Syrian female students from participating as peers in education.

In camp schools, misrecognition was institutionalised informally through social relations in the camps and the complex social differences constructed and played out between Syrians. Across settings misrecognition of gender and maldistribution of social justice prevented Syrian female students from participating as peers in education.

National certification, futures, and misrecognition

The downside of national certification is that, as discussed earlier, it involves following a national curriculum which institutionalises the misrecognition of refugee students and impedes parity of participation with their national peers. Global policy assumes that following a national curriculum is beneficial to refugees as it leads to certification which might reflect students’ future trajectories and needs if they remain in the host country. Yet Syrian students, like refugees in many other contexts face structural barriers to accessing tertiary education opportunities or employment (Michaela and Stulgaitis 2022; Fincham 2020). The institutionalisation of misrecognition in national employment policies and regulations for tertiary education constitute refugees as unquestionably less than full members of the nation state. As a consequence, Syrian students across settings were mixed in their perception of the value of Jordanian qualifications and were very aware of the structural barriers embedded in their contexts. Female students were more likely to express aspirations to gain the tawjihi, or school leaving certificate, and to continue their education at university level than their male peers. However, males and females expressed concern that school qualifications gained in Jordan would not be recognised if they returned to Syria, and some said that if they returned they would be placed ‘two grades lower’ (Second shift male school). At the same time, they perceived their opportunities to continue with their education as more limited in Jordan than if they returned to Syria.

The barriers to post-school opportunities were particularly acute for students living in camps. The sense of confinement and poor transportation between camp and urban centres severely limited how students perceived their futures. The distances and practical barriers alone made university an impossible dream for camp students, particularly female students who said their parents would never let them travel alone to university outside the camp. As a female student at Azraq camp concluded ‘If I stay in the camp, I will never be able to achieve my dream. If I go back to Syria for example, I will definitely continue my education’. Many felt that they would drop out before taking the tawjihi in grade 12. One female student at Zaatari camp commented that: ‘Life is unfair when it comes to education. When students complete secondary school, only those with money can go to university’. Another student added, ‘there are no opportunities or scholarships for us to continue our education’. Financial hardships, the lack of post-school study and employment opportunities for Syrians in Jordan, and uncertainty about where their futures lie, undermined the value of gaining Jordanian school qualifications for these students. Their ambivalence reflects a number of studies that have questioned the assumption that working hard and gaining qualifications will lead to a better future for refugee students (Bellino 2021; Bonet 2022). In contrast, students at host community schools, who were mostly Jordanian, felt that they would complete their secondary education and aimed to enter tertiary learning. They felt that jobs in Jordan were difficult to find and some students at host community schools and regular schools expressed concern about being able to acquire the right marks, but unlike their Syrian peers they could see a future and a reward for working hard at school.

The experience of Syrian students reflects a contradiction at the heart of policies of integration into national education systems which, on the one hand implicitly assume a future in the host society, and yet through structural barriers to employment and post-school opportunities assume a future of return at best, and at worse a life of precarity. For the majority of Syrian students, education is not a means to integration into the Jordanian nation state and many perceived their futures as return and integration into Syria. Integration theories stress the importance of the interrelationship and inter-dependence between the different domains of integration, something which has been neglected in moves to integrate refugees in national education systems. The findings highlight the need for critical engagement with the complex and under researched relationship between education, post compulsory school opportunities and sustainable livelihoods for refugees as well as vulnerable individuals in host communities.

Discussion

Research across integration setting has enabled us to compare the perspective of students and to illuminate the different ways in which Syrian students are distributively disadvantaged in terms of both the quantity and quality of education resources they can access. They also experience curricular injustice through cultural misrecognition as non-citizen, ‘other’, in the national curriculum. The voice of students in camps was very clear: their desire was to live outside of camps and receive what they perceive as the higher-quality education in better resourced schools with higher quality teachers and better post-school opportunities. Students in camp schools were unable to participate in learning on the same basis as their peers outside of camps, facing distributive injustices, not only in terms of learning resources, but also teacher time, which prevented their engagement in learning on an equal basis with students outside of camps. Furthermore, their social status as refugees living in camps impedes their participation in extracurricular enrichment activities and other opportunities outside of camps. Second-shift schools provide greater opportunity for parity of participation in terms of formal access to learning resources and access to the greater resources available to communities outside of camps, however, a key finding and contribution to knowledge is that lack of time in the school day impedes access to these resources. Maldistribution of time in shifted schools in both camps and second-shift schools is a barrier to socially just and equitable education for refugee students, more so as it intersects with the distinct support needs of refugee students which teachers struggle to address under current arrangements. Integration in host community schools more clearly constitutes refugees as peers, capable of participating on a par with other students in terms of access to teaching and learning resources and teacher time. It is the model of integration which represented the most socially just education, although refugees still do not experience equitable patterns of cultural recognition or representation in the national curriculum.

In focusing on integration in education in isolation from other domains recognised as critical to integration has significant shortcomings for quality education for refugees. Our findings illuminate the importance of social connections, and the consequent unequal distribution of access to safety around schools in camp and second-shift schools. Misrecognition took different forms across these settings, but misrecognition of gender and resulting safety fears was a constant theme, and was perceived as curtailing female students’ ability to remain in education to pursue their aspirations. Positive social relationships are crucial for well-being and underpin integration, and yet in the move to integrate refugee children in national education system there has been insufficient consideration of social relations and pathways to belonging and security (Dryden-Peterson 2020; Salem 2021). The social arrangements of separate schooling fuels tensions between Jordanian and Syrians students and works against the perceived aim of fostering social cohesion set out in key global documents.

The social arrangements and policies which integrate refugees are framed in a way which create numerous obstacles to equal participation. The misframing of refuges ensures that the unjust institutionalised social arrangements which impede parity of participation are legitimised and largely pass unrecognised. Principles of equity and socially just education are rarely applied to refugee education, particularly in lower-resource contexts such as Jordan which struggle to provide quality education for national students. Misrepresentation and misframing within the nation state are at the heart of this social injustice, as Fraser aptly puts it there can be ‘no redistribution or recognition without representation’ (2008a, 44). Denied the democratic spaces where claims for misrecognition and maldistribution can be raised or redressed, refugees are left in a situation of voicelessness which feeds into, and reproduces, other injustices.

Conclusion

The paradigm shift from a humanitarian focus on access and minimum standards to integration in national systems has not yet been accompanied by a paradigm shift which foregrounds equity and social justice in refugee education. Our theoretical framing recognises that in order for the principle of parity of participation to be achieved, education policies and programmes must be arranged in such a way as to enable all – refugee and non-refugee – to participate as equals and to benefit from, and progress in and through education. For Fraser, the national framing of refugee education will always limit the ability of refugees to claim social justice as they are denied membership of the nation state. Insights from integration theory underline the importance of recognising the context in which policies are implemented. Integration into national education systems varied between settings which in different ways impeded socially just and equitable refugee education. We also draw attention to the limitations of conceptualising integration through the lens of a single domain – education – and instead point to the importance of conceptualising integration as multi-dimensional occurring across multiple, inter-connecting domains. Social connections and sense of safety and belonging are critical to successful integration in national education systems, and for education to be a means of integration requires opportunities for refugee students in other domains such as employment and post-school opportunities. This paper contributes to our understanding of what it means to be integrated in a national education system from the perspective of refugees and has highlighted the obstacles which need to be addressed if global promises of equity and quality education are to be achieved. Foregrounding socially just education for refugees is long over-due. It is a focus which has the potential to also benefit non-refugee students, many of whom experience under resourced education and face similar parity of participation struggles as refugees.

Authors contributions

Morrice: Led the article making substantial contributions to the conception, theorisation, design and drafting of the work. Salem: contributed to refugee education literature, policy and Jordanian context. Both authors analysed empirical data, read and approved the final manuscript.

Acknowledgements

This research was funded by the Evidence-Driven Results in Learning (EDRiL) initiative, which is a partnership between the Jordanian Ministry of Education (MoE), Queen Rania Foundation for Education and Development (QRF), the UK Government (FCDO), and Canada. We wish to thank the students who gave their time so generously to this research, and our in-country data-collection vendors, Headway, Jordan.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the authors.

Correction Statement

This article has been corrected with minor changes. These changes do not impact the academic content of the article.

Notes

1 The research team comprised The research team comprised members of the Centre for International Education at the University of Sussex and colleagues at the Queen Rania Foundation in Jordan.

2 There are important differences between the two camps which are beyond the scope of this paper. See, for example, Gatter, M. (2018) Rethinking the lessons from Za'atari refugee camp DOI:10.17863/CAM.22910