Biographies and the doubleness of inclusion and exclusion

ABSTRACT

Integration is often considered to be comprised of different dimensions which can influence each other in a linear fashion. For instance, if one becomes more proficient in the host country’s language, one’s labor market participation should also increase. In the Netherlands, this assumption has led to a plethora of policies (like mandatory integration courses) having targeted especially ‘Muslim’ women of Moroccan and Turkish descent, who are perceived as most isolated in society. Obliging them to learn Dutch was believed to increase their economic integration and their sense of home, the latter being considered pivotal for overall successful integration. However, the question is whether dimensions of integration really influence each other in this linear fashion – under all circumstances. With the help of biographical research conducted with first- and second-generation women of Moroccan and Turkish descent in the Netherlands and focusing on both linguistic and economic integration and their effects on sense of belonging, this study shows that mastering the new language and increasing labor market participation can actually have paradoxical non-linear, even curvilinear effects, leading to a decrease in sense of belonging. We try to capture this paradoxical phenomenon with the term doubleness of inclusion and exclusion.

KEYWORDS:

• Belonging
• biographical research
• inclusion/exclusion
• integration
• migrant women

Introduction

The integration of migrants and refugees with an assumed or real Muslim background is still a hotly debated topic in many Western countries like the Netherlands and widely researched. Both politicians as well as researchers concerned with integration often seem to perceive integration as a straightforward, linear process and focus on ex-/inclusion practices either obstructing or aiding integration, respectively. For instance, if migrants/refugees learn their host country’s language, become more educated, and participate in the labor market, this should directly enhance their overall integration in society. More specifically, this should foster migrants’ emotional bonding with their country of residence and hence their loyalty towards it. Since the turn of the century, the Dutch government has therefore viewed an increase in sense of belonging, for example, feeling at home in the Netherlands, as pivotal for a successful integration process (see, e.g. Duyvendak, 2011). However, the question remaining is whether there is indeed a straightforward relationship between, for instance, linguistic and economic integration and sense of belonging. Previous research, especially quantitative studies, has already indicated the presence of what is dubbed ‘the integration paradox’ (e.g. Ten Teije, Coenders, & Verkuyten, 2013; Van Doorn, Scheepers, & Dagevos, 2013) focusing on the increased level of education, economic integration, perceived discrimination, and attitudes towards ethnic majorities in the Netherlands. What this biographical research adds to our knowledge of this integration paradox is uncovering the layeredness (feeling simultaneously included and excluded and the dynamic changes of these feelings over time) of the integration process which proves to be rather paradoxical than straightforward especially with a focus on sense of belonging. With the term ‘doubleness’, we hope to increase the comprehension of this integration paradox by showing the simultaneous presence of inclusion and exclusion. In this paper, we explore two paradoxes that show this doubleness: namely the language paradox and the economic integration paradox. Through biographical narratives of women with a migrant background we show how mastering the language (language inclusion) could lead to a decrease of sense of belonging (emotional exclusion) due to having access to the national discursive space which is negative about migrants. The economic integration paradox demonstrates that women who were successful to integrate economically (via study and work), felt excluded through negative everyday experiences with ethnic Dutch people in the workplace.

This study reveals the limitations of a linear conceptualization of the integration process by policy makers (and scholars), assuming that language and economic inclusion would be the necessary and sufficient steps towards socio-economic and emotional inclusion. The narratives of women in this study gave us the opportunity to discover how their growing participation in society can have a negative effect on their sense of belonging. This paradox is even more visible – and more disappointing – for women who are most invested in their quest for inclusion.

Theoretical background

Sense of belonging, a form of affective integration, is a rather newly explored research area in the social sciences (Croucher, 2004). Up to now, how sense of belonging and other forms of integration like economic, social, cultural, and linguistic integration interrelate and influence each other is still not systematically researched (Dagevos, 2005; Eijberts, 2013; Schönwälder, 2007). Some (quantitative) studies focus primarily on describing which groups of the population have a greater sense of belonging, but do not provide much information as to why there might be differences (e.g. Nieuweboer, 2009). Often, when research on the interrelationship of different dimensions of integration is conducted it tends to be based on the supposition that the interrelationship is straightforward and unidirectional, although it is more likely that the relationships are circular and feeding into each other (Hagendoorn, Veenman, & Vollebergh, 2003). What is less considered is that the effects might not only be linear or circular, but rather curvilinear or paradoxical. The advantage of doing biographical research on belonging is that it offers the researcher the opportunity to capture the process and nuances of a person’s integration trajectory over time. This can help us uncover and explain paradoxical outcomes of certain integration strategies like learning the language and studying/working. We refer to this phenomenon as doubleness, that is, that integration strategies might have both positive and paradoxically negative effects at the same time. That is, they might heighten both a sense of inclusion and exclusion, belonging and non-belonging.

There are various qualitative studies in the Netherlands indicating the non-linear relationship among different dimensions of integration. In her study of Iranian women refugees in the Netherlands, Ghorashi (2005) showed that the successful integration of these women had not increased their sense of belonging to the Netherlands. This study showed that this first generation of refugees who had learned Dutch in a short period of time and completed their higher education during the first five years of their stay in the Netherlands also had high expectations of being accepted as equal members in society. Yet, they faced othering practices, reminding them on a daily basis that they were not part of Dutch society. Therefore, the successful integration of these women went together with a sense of emotional exclusion. Buitelaar and Stock (2010) report a condition of ‘double bind’ referring to the conflicting demands that Muslim migrants are confronted with. On the one hand they are called to lessen their religious attachments, on the other hand they are mainly approached as Muslims. Similar observations are reported in the work of Buijs, Demant, and Hamdy (2006, p. 202), where the concept ‘integration paradox’ is used to show that when migrants are actually eager to integrate in the dominant society, they are most sensitive to feelings of exclusion. The authors show that the radicalization of Muslim youth is not due to their assumed isolation, educational deficiency, or anti-social attitudes, but the contrary. Youths who are active, socially involved, sensitive to societal recognition, and eager to become successful and respected members of the dominant society but face unfair treatment, daily public insults, and disrespect for their parents, despite their parents’ hard work in post-WWII Dutch society, are more prone to radicalization.

In order to contextualize what we refer to as doubleness of inclusion and exclusion it seems essential to connect it to the dominant discourses on migrants in Europe. On the one hand, we observe growing demands on migrants (and their children) to integrate fully into the host societies. On the other hand, we witness an undeniable escalation of the negative othering discourse concerning Muslims from the early 2000s onwards, which many connect to the events of September 11, 2001 and the subsequent violence in various European cities. It is important to consider that the othering discourse of migrants is not new and has been present in the West for decades. Prasad and Prasad argue that the contemporary discourse of othering is informed by ‘the social and cultural construction of a fundamental ontological distinction between “the west” and “the non-west”’ (2002, p. 61). The ways that migrants of color are approached in the present, they argue, can be traced to the colonial legacy. Within the constructed binaries of difference, the ethnic other has not only been considered as absolutely different from but also inferior to the ethnic Western self. However, there are two significant differences in the present dominant discourses of othering compared to the decades preceding the turn of the century. The first difference is the blatant manner in which negative sentiments towards migrants of color as ethnic others are voiced prevails in the public and political space of many Western countries. Parekh (2008, p. 11) even refers to an extensive moral panic. The second difference is the prominence of Islam as an essential component. In many countries the unwanted other is associated with Muslim migrants. The European Monitoring Centre on Racism and Xenophobia identified a rise in the number of ‘physical and verbal threats being made, particularly to those visually identifiable as Muslims, in particular women wearing the hijab’ (Allen & Nielsen, 2002, p. 16).

Societal context

The meaning and the policies of integration in the Netherlands have changed over the past decades. In the 1980s there was space for a balance between preserving one’s original culture and integrating into the new society. By the turn of the century, this was no longer the case. The understanding of integration has shifted towards assimilation through distancing oneself from one’s past culture (Vasta, 2007). Despite this seemingly abrupt shift, we see continuity in the linear assumption underlying the Dutch approach to integration. The basic premise is that participation in the labor market and, if possible, education, is the critical bridge to integration into Dutch society (Glastra, 1999, p. 63).

An important layer in discussions from the turn of the century on integration is the position of migrant women. The Dutch cabinet of 2002–2007 introduced a clear shift towards the emancipation of (especially Islamic) migrant women (Roggeband & Verloo, 2007). The underlying assumption was that since Dutch women were already emancipated there was a need for a specific policy focusing on the emancipation of migrant women, especially women of Moroccan and Turkish descent, who belong to the two largest and most visible ‘Muslim’ groups in the Netherlands. Although recent Dutch cabinets partially distanced themselves from exclusive attention to the emancipation of migrant women, the basic assumptions remain. The support for these assumptions comes from research showing that first-generation women in particular appear to struggle with the Dutch language and (consequently) have few social contacts with members of the Dutch majority group (Driessen, 2004; VROM: Wonen, Wijken, and Integratie, 2007). Moreover, these women are more frequently unemployed than men from their own and men and women from other ethnic groups (e.g. Bevelander & Groeneveld, 2010; Gijsberts & Dagevos, 2004) and those who have jobs have ones with low salaries and little status or the women are overqualified for the work they are doing (Eijberts, 2013; Keuzenkamp & Merens, 2006; Van der Zwaard, 2008; Van Tubergen, 2006). These women thus appear to be culturally and socio-economically isolated (Bevelander & Groeneveld, 2010; Van Tubergen, 2006; VROM: Wonen, Wijken, and Integratie, 2007) and considered to be passive, oppressed victims who are held back by their religious faith and the men of their culture (Buitelaar, 2009; Roggeband & Verloo, 2007). Since migrant women are believed to lag behind when it comes to Dutch core values like women’s emancipation (Sniderman & Hagendoorn, 2007), which is supposed to be achieved by having one’s own income and a job (Mees, 2006; Portegijs, 2006), increasing their economic participation is presumed to be particularly important. Through financial independence they would be able to liberate themselves from their husband’s/father’s and their culture’s/religion’s grip and orientate themselves more towards Dutch society, becoming more emancipated (Ghorashi, 2010b; Roggeband & Verloo, 2007).

The perceived lack of emancipation and cultural integration are regarded to also impede the women’s sense of belonging in the Netherlands. Since the turn of the century, we observe that a strong sense of belonging is considered pivotal for a successful adaptation to and feeling loyalty towards the Netherlands – especially in the aftermaths of 9/11 and international and national incidents like the murder of Islam critics Pim Fortuyn and Theo van Gogh (Snel & Scholten, 2005), which seem to point to the incompatibility of Islamic and Western norms and values (Sniderman & Hagendoorn, 2007; Sniderman, Hagendoorn, & Prior, 2003), supposedly rendering Muslim migrants disloyal and unwilling to contribute to Dutch society. Rather, they would thus take advantage of the social welfare provisions without giving anything back to the community (Ghorashi, 2014; Sniderman & Hagendoorn, 2007). The paradox here is that at a time of growing negative discourses regarding (particularly ‘Muslim’) migrants, we observe an expectation that these migrants should feel a sense of belonging to the society which is reflected in policy slogans such as ‘Make sure that you belong’ (‘Zorg dat jij erbij hoort!’; VROM: Wonen, Wijken, and Integratie, 2007). Duyvendak (2011, p. 93) argues that in most West European countries and particularly in the Netherlands we can trace ‘the emotionalization of what it means to be a citizen’. By referring to diverse statements of Dutch politicians, he writes that these politicians ‘tell immigrants how to feel – above all, to feel at home in the Netherlands’. In sum, what we observe is the continuity of the linear assumption of integration from the old days (including language, education, and work) with two strong components added (emancipation and belonging). The assumption is that language and work (and for women emancipation) are considered important factors in order to increase the felt sense of belonging (while in the broader public discourse, sense of belonging is also depicted as a precondition to being willing to learn the language and to work).

In terms of the new focus on belonging, two interconnected patterns can be distinguished. Firstly, the focus on belonging is based on an assumed threat Muslim migrants pose to the nation state in the aftermath of the September 11 attacks, rooted in expectations of non-belonging and, hence, lack of loyalty. In this way, an emphasis on belonging is not related to creating conditions that would facilitate inclusiveness, but is rather used as an indicator to check the level of loyalty of migrants or demonstrate the failure of integration. Migrants have to prove their loyalty by ‘subscribing to [the dominant] ideas, convictions, habits and emotions’ (Duyvendak, 2011, p. 87; Geschiere, 2009). Secondly, there is a clear connection between this notion of belonging and a singular imagination of national identity. The robust and barely contested image of Dutchness has clear moral components such as embracing individual liberty (van Reekum & Duyvendak, 2012, p. 463) and is quite thick and exclusive towards cultural and religious difference (Ghorashi, 2010a; Wekker, 1998). The notion of Dutchness, which had always been present, have become more explicit in recent decades (Alghasi, Eriksen, & Ghorashi, 2009; Ghorashi, 2014; van Reekum & Duyvendak, 2012; Verkaaik, 2010).

Particularly at the national level, new ‘feeling rules’ are applied to immigrants who are increasingly expected to demonstrate feelings of attachment, belonging, connectedness and loyalty to their new country. Because feelings as such cannot easily be perceived, certain actions become their symbolic stand-ins (Verkaaik 2010). (Duyvendak, 2011, p. 93)

Although the knowledge of the language has been a central ingredient of integration policy from the beginning, it seems that there is now an even stronger emphasis on language considering it as ‘an absolute precondition for functioning in the Netherlands’ (Bjornson, 2007, p. 69). Language is not only opening the path to social, cultural, and economic participation (Broeder & Extra, 1995; Glastra & Schedler, 2004; Kirk, 2010) but it is also considered vital for migrants’ sense of belonging. Furthermore, language in itself is often seen to be an integral part of a nation’s culture and symbol of a nation’s identity (Extra, Aarts, van der Avoird, Broeder, & Yagmur, 2002; Sniderman & Hagendoorn, 2007; Vedder & Virta, 2005). As a result, the Dutch government had made language acquisition for migrants mandatory. The major part of the obligatory integration courses in the Netherlands consisted of language lessons (Blok, 2004; Glastra & Schedler, 2004; Kirk, 2010; Vasta, 2007). Bjornson (2007, p. 74) even goes so far as to state that ‘Dutch language skills have become fetishized’. A good example supporting this statement is the following. Recently, the Dutch government has announced plans to strip people of (a part of their) welfare benefits if they are unwilling to learn the language (Herderschee & Hoedeman, 2014), underlining the importance attributed to language acquisition in the integration process – and the perceived unwillingness of migrants to learn Dutch and to ‘make sure that they belong’. Clearly, thus, it is perceived that the more a person speaks and understands the Dutch language, the more they will feel a bond with the Netherlands.

Methodology

The biographical approach we chose in this study is particularly useful in understanding the experiences and feelings of people and the multiple ways they relate to the processes of inclusion and exclusion in their everyday lives. It helps to investigate the change of certain patterns in time from the way that people look back and forth to narrate their stories. In this way, the biographical approach provides the possibility to grasp the dynamics, multiplicity, and even contradictory notions of positionings at play.

The biographical material in this study is focused on first- and second-generation women of Moroccan and Turkish descent in Amsterdam and Rotterdam, the two Dutch cities with the greatest migrant population. In-depth interviews were conducted with 52 women and an additional 70 women took part in focus group discussions (thus, 10 focus groups with an average of 7 women). The respondents varied in age (18–70+) and educational status (from no education to university degree). The participants were found via snowball sampling, mainly using migrant women’s (self-)organizations in Amsterdam and Rotterdam as a starting point. Since getting access to migrant women is challenging, migrant women’s (self-)organizations would serve as a trustworthy gatekeeper and provide immediate access to a larger group of women (thus also women not attached to these organizations were interviewed). The organizations, in turn, have been found via the website of ‘Aletta – Institute for Women’s History’, van Heelsum’s (2001) compilation of Moroccan organizations, and Google. In total, interviews were also held with chairs/representatives of 15 organizations. The in-depth and organizational interviews and focus groups were bolstered by participating observations (Bernard, 2006; Glesne, 1999) of several events like Iftars and events organized by migrant women’s (self-)organizations like ballet performances and workshops. On three occasions language lessons were attended that were offered by different providers (one migrant women’s self-organization and two official language providers).

Findings

Language unites, language divides

To the migrant women interviewed, belonging is indeed something they hoped to achieve as well – partly agreeing with the government that it might be attained through socio-economic and cultural integration, yet many also believed it was a precondition to make integration possible (Eijberts, 2013). For them, belonging referred to having a sense of home, feeling safe, accepted, familiar with their environment, having family and friends around, having autonomy and freedom, and growing roots as well as building a future (Eijberts, 2013).

As mentioned above, from the very beginning, the Dutch integration discourse has put primary emphasis on Dutch language acquisition. Mastery of the language was and still is considered to open doors to effective socioeconomic participation as well as cultural and affective integration in particular (Sniderman & Hagendoorn, 2007). Virtually all interviewees agreed on the importance of learning the language and many (first-generation) women reported that mastering Dutch had a significant positive impact on their lives, as it facilitated the interaction with their neighbors, doctors, etc. For instance, Ayla (29), a first-generation woman of Turkish descent, stated that her life became a lot easier once she was able to understand official letters, and while in the past she feared to go to the doctor because of the language barrier, she now dares to go by herself. Raja (28), a first-generation divorcee of Moroccan descent was happy about the freedom and independence that language mastery had earned her. In this way, these and other women reported that their sense of belonging – for them including a sense of familiarity, safety, and freedom – in the Netherlands was enhanced via language since it helped increase their social participation, sense of inclusion in, and familiarity with Dutch society (see also Blunt & Dowling, 2006; Mallett, 2004).

While many politicians would expect a linear relationship between language acquisition and the development of a sense of belonging, our interviews indicate that paradoxically this is not necessarily the case. There is a doubleness in the effects of language proficiency. That is, the effect of language learning was multilayered as it brought about a sense of inclusion and simultaneously a heightened sense of exclusion, thereby impeding women’s sense of belonging. This happens in several ways and has to do with the discursive field surrounding these women. Firstly, strikingly, above all first-generation women with low to mediocre levels of Dutch language proficiency were the ones stressing the positive aspects of having learnt the language. While also women with a higher level emphasized this, a few also pointed out that knowing the language so well also enabled them to understand the negative discourses about Turkish and especially Moroccan migrants as disseminated in politics and media. This made them feel threatened and unwanted thereby heightening their sense of exclusion and impeding their sense of belonging. For example, Yasmina (37), a first-generation woman of Moroccan descent who followed a language course although she spoke Dutch fluently, contended that ever since she was able to follow the news and what people said about Moroccans, her sense of belonging in the Netherlands had suffered. Zorah (38), a highly educated first-generation woman of Moroccan descent, married to a highly educated second-generation man of Moroccan descent, had reached a high level of proficiency within a short period of time. She stated that language made her life easier in the Netherlands. Yet, at the same time understanding the Dutch discourse on migrants impaired her sense of belonging.

As a Muslim I think you do not have a place here. [They want us to] leave the country. They want me gone. I understand that. I am not running around with my eyes and ears closed. […] The Netherlands is now changing a lot. Against foreigners. Against Muslims. […] I fear for my children.

During the interview she even burst into tears. Her language skills enabling her to follow the media and political discourse thus clearly contributed to feeling excluded, even menaced.

Second-generation women of Moroccan and Turkish descent, who are (near-)native speakers of the Dutch language, also pointed to the fact that being able to understand what was going on in the media and politics, which also affects daily interactions, negatively influenced their sense of belonging. For instance, Zia (26), a second-generation woman of Moroccan descent and university student, elaborated:

In general I feel at home [in the Netherlands] since I do not know better. I have grown up here. When I am in Morocco, I miss the Netherlands. When I am in the Netherlands, I often think: “What am I doing here?” I actually would love to migrate to another country. […] This feeling is strongest when they are complaining again about the Islam, integration, allochthonous people. They emphasize that so much that I think from time to time “What am I actually doing here? Such crap!”

Zia holds the media responsible for this because it would ‘feed the frustrations of many Dutch people’, providing them with a ‘scapegoat’. Likewise other second-generation women mentioned that what they heard about their ethnic groups made them feel unwanted and excluded. Thus, knowing the language very well is a mixed blessing. While the first-generation women who are still learning Dutch primarily experience the advantages, feeling more included, those who have mastered the language or are native speakers also experience the doubleness of successful linguistic integration. Since they can understand politicians, the media, and also people on the street talking negatively about their group, their feeling of belonging is harmed again.

This doubleness of language acquisition is also apparent in yet another way – especially to those women who had more advanced levels of Dutch or who even were (near-)native speakers experienced that no matter how hard they tried, their level of Dutch never seemed to be ‘good enough’ (Ghorashi & van Tilburg, 2006). We sometimes encountered women who had a very good understanding of the Dutch language, yet felt that it was never sufficient, that it remained a reason to exclude them socially and from the labor market. Zorah, the highly educated woman of Moroccan descent who had learned Dutch well within a year, encountered difficulties finding a job. Likewise, Nermin (44) a woman of Turkish descent who came to the Netherlands as a child and spoke Dutch fluently and without any accent, had applied to Dutch language courses, where they told her that her Dutch was fine. Nonetheless, she was rejected for jobs because of her Dutch. Thus, her Dutch functioned both as a means of inclusion (she could participate without problems) and exclusion (in the eyes of potential employers, it was never enough). Even some of the second-generation women who were all (near-)native speakers were made insecure about their Dutch, thereby constantly being reminded that they did not quite belong. For instance, Pelin (18), Nuray (27), and Sahar (28), all second-generation women of Turkish descent, although they spoke flawless Dutch, questioned their Dutch language skills and expected that these would form a barrier when applying for jobs. This is striking, since these women have had all their education in Dutch and have grown up in the Netherlands.

In their study on the experiences of highly educated refugee women (from Islamic countries) in the Netherlands, Ghorashi and van Tilburg (2006) showed a similar pattern, that is, these refugees’ Dutch was never ‘good enough’. To explain this fixation on language perfection, the authors showed the prominence of the so-called deficit approach in organizations. In this approach, assumed deficiencies of migrants (in terms of language, education, etc.) are considered the primary reason for their exclusion in organizations. In their study, they found that the (perceived lack of) Dutch language proficiency of the women they interviewed was often used as a basis for their exclusion. This was true even though they had completed their higher education in the Netherlands. It seemed that being from a minority group overshadowed the achievements and qualities of these first-generation refugee women, who came to the Netherlands when they were over 25 years old and obtained a degree from a Dutch university: an education completely in Dutch. This study illustrated that the dominance of the deficit approach (e.g. fixation on the deficiency of migrants rather than their qualities) is so powerful that even in cases that prove the approach wrong are ignored and immigrants therefore face a wall of exclusion. No attention whatsoever had been paid to the qualifications these women had acquired during their short stay in their new country, but mainly to their imperfect Dutch.

Another possible explanation could be the fact that people often assess people’s competencies following certain cues like their appearances. For example, van Nieuwkerk’s (2004) study on ethnic Dutch Muslim converts showed that even though the women had ethnic Dutch parents and had spent all their lives in the Netherlands, due to wearing a veil, people perceived their Dutch as deficient and thus started to speak very slowly to them. It is thus likely that the second-generation women, due to wearing a headscarf or due to looking ‘foreign’, were perceived as not having the level of a native speaker and thus were made insecure through the according reactions they might have received from teachers, etc.

As these examples highlight, even second-generation women are made to feel different and deficient (Eijberts, 2013; van der Raad, 2013) and therefore excluded due to their (perceived) language skills. Thus, ironically, especially first- and second-generation women who have mastered the language and thus dare to interact with other people and apply for better jobs will feel the exclusion on the basis of language most forcefully. These examples demonstrate what we referred to as the doubleness of inclusion, meaning that the mastery of the Dutch language is considered to be central to inclusion, yet in practice is used to exclude migrants.

Working to belong vs. choosing belonging over work

Economic integration is considered pivotal in migrants’ integration process, particularly when it comes to migrant women (Rijksoverheid, 2010). Education and work are supposed to help these allegedly non-emancipated women to liberate themselves from any oppression exerted by male family members or their culture. By this means work is presumed to foster the women’s cultural integration and their sense of belonging in the Netherlands. Especially second-generation women agreed that work was an important part of their life and a number of first-generation women considered work to be essential for their daughters’ lives in the Netherlands. While work has the potential to bring about a heightened sense of belonging because it can increase women’s financial independence and bring them in contact with members of the majority group, its relationship is not so straightforward and linear. We found that studying and working can actually have the opposite effect, make women feel excluded, and decrease their sense of belonging – as long as working and studying means that one is exposed to daily interactions influenced by the negative discourse about migrant women in the Netherlands. This particularly affected women who were more educated and thus well equipped to make very valuable contributions to society and who were willing to actively participate in Dutch society, striving for independence. Since their sense of belonging is sometimes infringed upon to a considerable extent, these women sometimes do not see another solution but to retract from the labor market and some even considered emigration in order to rebuild a sense of belonging.

Pelin (18) is a migrant daughter of Turkish descent, who had attended a Dutch primary and an Islamic high school. She used to have a sense of belonging in the Netherlands. Her parents were giving her a lot more freedom than other parents would give their daughters, so it was not too much at odds with how Dutch children grew up (for instance, she is allowed to have and hang out with male friends). However, ever since she had started to attend a Dutch community college in order to become a teacher and since her study-related internship, her sense of belonging had drastically dropped. She had the feeling that her ethnic Dutch co-students and co-workers looked down on her. Sometimes their prejudice towards her or members of her ethnic group was overt, sometimes more covert. For example, during her internship, her ethnic Dutch co-workers commented on a cleaning lady of Turkish origin coming by, saying that when you are wearing a striped t-shirt and have dark hair, then obviously you must be a cleaning lady. Pelin felt hurt because she experienced this prejudiced remark as an attack on women of her own ethnic group, making her feel debased and excluded. Her interactions with some of her co-students were also marked by ‘othering’ and feelings of non-belonging.

In our group, we have girls from Volendam [a town in North Holland] and they have never met girls … with headscarves, never interacted with them, never been in the same course. Never [met] Turkish girls. And those girls said: ‘You are able to speak Dutch? You are doing better in school than we are? Huh?’ And so forth.

Due to these experiences, studying and doing an internship actually had the opposite effect than what politicians would expect.

Pelin’s mother, Seray (41), a first-generation woman of Turkish descent who attended high school in the Netherlands and who speaks Dutch fluently also felt excluded in the workplace. Seray had always been determined to be financially independent from her husband since she never wanted to end up like her mother who always had to ask her husband for money if she wanted to buy something. Seray drove her own car, had her own bank account, and encouraged her daughters and younger sisters to do well in school and always be able to support themselves financially. In order to realize her own independence she used to work for a Dutch retailer, her first job after high school. Nonetheless, her colleagues – and one in particular – constantly reminded her that she was not ethnic Dutch and thus was not considered to belong.

I had arranged with my boss that I was allowed to wear the headscarf at work. [… My colleague] used to look at me very strange. She used to look at me with disgust. She asked: ‘What do you have underneath your headscarf?’ [pause] I blushed. I, I had never heard such a reaction before, you know? I didn’t know what to say. […] Only because I was wearing a headscarf at a Dutch retailer … she thought that it was awful that I was working there!

This and other colleagues always found new ways in order to let her know that they thought she was a backward person. This impaired Seray’s sense of belonging to that extent that she quit her job and decided to never work with Dutch colleagues again. Instead, her cousin employs her in his pastry shop. Retracting into her own ethnic circle has helped her restore her self-worth and sense of belonging as people accept and appreciate her for who she is. This does not mean that Seray is refraining from contact with Dutch people altogether. Her best friend is an ethnic Dutch lady and Seray continues to participate in Saint Martin and Saint Nicolas celebrations with her children, read Dutch books to children at school, and promote cultural and religious dialogue through her volunteer work. She is thus a woman who is very committed to integration and who wants to participate – also through paid work. However, contrary to what one would expect, instead of work increasing her sense of belonging, it diminished it to that degree that she felt she had to choose between having a good job and her self-worth.

Seray’s case was not an isolated one. Nassima (28), a second-generation woman of Moroccan descent, has been as committed to integration as Seray. She became a social worker and used to work for an agency supposed to help people who are marginalized in society. Apart from hearing her ethnic Dutch colleagues talking negatively about migrant clients (which made her feel excluded by default as well) she recalled several incidents that made her feel unaccepted. For example, people objected to her fasting during Ramadan even though she did not emphasize it and did not mind if people were eating in her presence. What is more, during a staff outing, the management did not take into account the dietary restrictions of their Muslim staff members and virtually all the food was haram (not allowed for Muslims to eat). When Nassima asked whether she should still arrange food for them last minute, the management snubbed her, insinuating that she was a trouble maker. The management told her that in the past, things were better since they did not have to take other people’s dietary restrictions into consideration. This was a key moment leading to her alienation from the organization. When people also started gossiping about her, working there became unbearable and she left the agency. Like Seray, she opted for restoring her sense of belonging by starting as a volunteer for migrant organizations, helping young people with their integration in society. Even though Nassima is an emancipated and educated young woman who liked to work, she rather relies now on being financially supported by her husband and developing herself through unpaid labor in a safe environment that keeps her sense of belonging intact rather than returning to an employer where she feels excluded and depreciated because of her background.

In a focus group discussion with second-generation women of Moroccan descent who had a high level of education this issue surfaced, too. Five of the six participants were more or less outspoken regarding the fact that the atmosphere in the workplace sometimes induced them to (consider to) quit their job. One of them, Karima (20), an assertive law student who does not wear a headscarf since she fears it could ruin her career, even contemplated migration to Spain since her colleagues made her question whether she actually belonged in the Netherlands (however, at the same time she does not belong in Morocco either). She considered herself lucky though that she ended up in a more open-minded organization afterwards where she felt included and she gave up on her emigration plans.

Only three second-generation women stated very firmly that their sense of belonging would not be affected (negatively) by the atmosphere in the workplace. They were exceptionally confident women who perceived that their fate is in their own hands and that they would prosper if they only tried hard enough. Bouchra (22), who was employed by an international company, was one of these women. She was very ambitious and asserted that you have to lay claim to your position in society, no matter what other people say. The negative experiences she had had, she attributed to having chosen the wrong employer. However, recently, a friend of hers informed us that she had also faltered and now spends her time sewing at home. She does not intend to re-enter the formal labor market. Thus, even more self-confident and ambitious women might find it difficult to protect their sense of belonging over time.

To sum up, labor market participation is often considered to be a means to further the sense of belonging of women of Moroccan and Turkish descent – both by the government and by a considerable number of the interviewees themselves. However, the findings point to a paradox and show that there is a doubleness of the effects of labor market participation on sense of belonging rather than straightforward effects – and this has to do with the current political and social climate when it comes to the views of migrants with an alleged/real Muslim background. On the one hand, labor market participation can have an essential impact on women’s sense of belonging. A number of women reported that being in the labor market increases their sense of home. On the other hand, especially those women who are studying and working in direct contact with ethnic Dutch people (thus usually the mediocre and highly educated women) are also often confronted with not being accepted by their ethnic Dutch colleagues. The acts of exclusion by their ethnic Dutch co-workers might not always be intentional. For example, they might emphasize that a woman of Moroccan or Turkish descent is well functioning despite her Moroccan and Turkish background. Nonetheless, this still stresses the ‘otherness’ and ‘exceptionality’ of the employee and what people think about their ethnic group in general. Hence, the women might feel that they are constantly under attack and that their sense of belonging is infringed upon to that degree that they believe that their only option to restore it is by pulling out of the labor market into a safer environment, which is a common coping mechanism among stigmatized groups (Miller & Kaiser, 2001). Some start working for co-ethnics, others immerse themselves into volunteer work, while others consider emigrating as the documentary ‘Back to Turkey’ (VPRO & De Bok, 2007) demonstrated. Supporting our findings the documentary found that particularly more educated migrant children of Turkish descent felt alienated in the Netherlands and thus saw no other option than to return to their parents’ country of origin – only to find that they are not accepted there either.

Conclusion

Thanks to using a biographical approach, this paper could show that the integration process of migrant women is layered and can have paradoxical outcomes rather than being straightforward. The biographical approach could uncover how feelings of (non-)belonging can change over time – and are related to the degree of language proficiency and economic integration reached. While most politicians (and researchers) assume that more language proficiency and more labor market participation should increase one’s sense of belonging in a linear fashion, we have used the term doubleness in order to more accurately capture the actual paradoxical and curvilinear effects that have been found. While linguistic and economic integration can indeed have a positive effect on inclusion, there comes a point where speaking and understanding the language well and working in higher positions with more exposure to ethnic Dutch colleagues can lead to the women feeling a heightened sense of ex- rather than inclusion. We could even go one step further and argue that in a context where the dominant societal discourse is negative about certain groups, a high level of integration could lead to a sense of non-belonging. The more one feels part of society, the higher one’s expectations of being included as such. The narratives of the women of this study illustrate that what we earlier referred to as the ‘integration paradox’ is a reality for both first- and second-generation women. We observed a simultaneous presence of experiences of inclusion and exclusion illuminating the doubleness in both cases. The first one related to the mastery of Dutch serving both as a condition for inclusion and a source of exclusion. The second one related to the experiences of women who had successfully integrated in the labor market (economic integration) but felt emotionally excluded (sense of belonging) because of the othering they experienced at work.

Both paradoxes show the multilayeredness of the integration process and the impact of the dominant discourses of migration on experiences of inclusion and exclusion for different generations of migrant women. We showed that the growing negative discourse on migrants in the Netherlands has a clear influence on the ways that these migrants are approached in work situations and in society (see also Siebers, 2010). Being exposed to this negative discourse when one is highly integrated (both in terms of Dutch language and socio-economic inclusion) makes migrants aware that they might not be wanted, welcome, and accepted. Even if one has mastered the language quite well and reaps the benefits by becoming more independent and self-reliant, for example, it seems that one can never be ‘good enough’ – even as a (near-)native speaker – and thus remains to be used as a cause of exclusion. Studying and working can have positive effects on one’s sense of inclusion. Nonetheless, especially the younger generation and the more highly educated women, eager to make a contribution to society and well equipped to build valuable bridges between the majority group and the migrant communities, often seem to find themselves confronted with acts of exclusion in the workplace, which again decreases their sense of belonging. At times, the sense of belonging is harmed to that extent that women feel compelled to leave the labor market altogether and rather work for co-ethnics, do volunteer work, or even (contemplate to) migrate. This choice, however, can increase the negative stereotype that society already has about these women, namely that they would be non-emancipated, non-integrated, and unwilling to integrate or held back by (the men of) their culture/religion. Overall, this study has shown the limits of a linear conceptualization of integration (including sense of belonging) and the importance of considering the negative discursive space that moderates the effects that linguistic and economic integration have on the sense of belonging of migrant/refugee women/daughters, leading to the doubleness of integration efforts. Thus, in the time that there is a growing expectation of (if not obligation towards) Muslim migrants to feel to belong to the Dutch society, we have shown the decrease of incentives to do so because of the growing negative Dutch discourse on migrants and its impact on daily interactions.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the authors.