More structure than hugs? The discourse of needs versus care in the reception of unaccompanied minors in a Swedish municipality

ABSTRACT

This article analyzes how a discourse of needs versus care was highlighted by unaccompanied minors (UM) and the professionals who work with them in municipal reception. Through interviewing and observing UM and professionals situated in a Swedish municipality, it became clear that they had somewhat divergent constructions. While the young people articulated how they perceived acquiring fluent Swedish as a key to getting by in Sweden, they also discussed handling uncertain waiting and feelings of stress, emphasizing the need to establish close relationships. The professionals were focused on providing the UM with practical assistance and preparing them for independent life. Specific concepts of age and Swedishness were embedded within the constructions of needs and care. The professionals saw themselves as important mediators of Swedishness, teaching UM what they constructed as Swedish norms. The youngsters constructed the professionals as important providers of practical assistance. The movement of UM from residential care and organizational factors, such as schedules and high staff turnover, meant that close connections were difficult to establish and maintain.

KEYWORDS:

• Unaccompanied minors
• residential care
• care work
• needs and care
• discourse analysis

INTRODUCTION

Swedish municipalities are responsible for the daily care and wellbeing of unaccompanied minors (UM) from their very first arrival in Sweden, during their asylum process, and if they are granted a stay in Sweden. In line with the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child, which clarifies the specific obligations that States have regarding the wellbeing of refugee children and youths separated from kin (in Sweden categorized as unaccompanied children), UM are singled out as subjects with exclusive rights.

Thus, working with UM has periodically become an essential task of Swedish social workers, whether these minors are placed in institutional care (hem för vård eller boende, HVB) or in a foster home (familjehem). The municipal reception of UM has clearly not been limited to the work of social workers. It also involves a variety of other actors or professionals.¹

This article takes its empirical point of departure in a study of the reception of UM in two so-called HVB-homes in a Swedish suburban municipality. The aim is to address how ‘needs’ and ‘care’ were constructed by the professionals and the young people studied. The understanding of needs as such had clearly specific age implications (cf. Krekula, Närvänen, and Näsman 2005) that coloured how professionals framed their responsibilities amid the group constructed as UM. As grown-ups can often be said to possess an interpretative privilege compared to children and youngsters, the professionals and young people studied here were not necessarily on equal footing.

Research questions this article addresses

1. How were needs and care work constructed in talk and everyday life by youngsters categorized as UM?

2. How were needs and care work constructed by the professional, and which constructions of age and Swedishness were imbedded in these understandings?

CARE VERSUS FOSTERING

The comprehension of what is a need is neither objective nor a priori defined. Specific constructions of care and needs are central to the Swedish reception of UM – this entails not only which needs must be conceived as legitimate to address (and by whom), how, and what care to offer, but also how to discipline or foster these children and youngsters.

In everyday life, thoughts on providing care amid fostering are interconnected and can be articulated as central components of children’s and youngsters’ socialization. As a social practice, giving care implies not only meeting someone else’s needs, but also perceiving and articulating these needs and hence responding to them accordingly (Nordenfors 2012). According to Thomas (1993), ‘care’ as such contains a dual character: caring for versus caring about, which makes it difficult to theorize:

The difficulty begins with the dual meaning of the verb “to care”. As several authors have pointed out, it can mean either a feeling state (emotion, affection, love)—“caring about someone”, or an activity state (work, tasks, labor)—“caring for someone”. As we shall see, the nature of care is often defined as an activity state, but sometimes as both an activity and a feeling state. (Thomas 1993, 652)

To provide care implies ‘to negotiate on how and whom that is to answer to these needs’ (Nordenfors 2012, 74). Thus, care can be described as a relational activity where social values and norms, rights, and obligations are important components.

Embedded in the history of social work and/or the field of social pedagogics rests the expectance of the poor or working class to provide favours in return for the contributions given (quid pro quo) (cf. Mattson 2010). Teaching the poor or working class the importance of decent behaviour, sobriety, and cleanliness/hygiene – aspects of what Skeggs (1997) conceptualizes as respectability – were always part of the transaction. In some sense, the conduction of social work has always been conditional, as needs could have been constructed differently. Jansdotter (2004) illustrated this by pointing out that while the saviours (bourgeois or upper-class female charitable workers) focused on the importance or the need for poor women to be purified from sin and attain salvation, the beneficiaries (poor or working-class women), on the contrary, were occupied with questions concerning cramped housing conditions and redundancy.

UNACCOMPANIED MINORS IN THE RECEPTION SYSTEM

Research focusing on the categorization of UM in the context of neoliberal welfare states illustrates how this particular group of children tends to be problematized as either ‘any other child’ hence entitled to the same reception, wellbeing, and care as any other child and youngster, yet also – as is rather prevalent – how they risk being targeted as ‘essentially different children’ to be controlled and monitored more closely or even for whom society can do a different kind of social work (Stretmo 2014; cf. Miller and Rose 2008). Kohli (2007) argued that social work with UM risks becoming a conundrum between the task of providing care versus becoming the extended monitoring arm of the Home Office/Swedish Migration Agency. According to Stretmo (2014), UM asylum-seekers construct a specific challenge to the neoliberal welfare states because they exist as both asylum-seekers seen as potential threats to stability and order (securitization, cf. Fassin 2005), yet also as children for whom States have specific obligations, due to the ratification of the Convention of the Rights of the Child (cf. Vitus and Liden 2010; Watters 2008). UM are furthermore also constructed as children away from their ‘natural’ space and setting within the safety of a family (Korp and Stretmo 2020; Stretmo 2014).

Older UM (between 16 and 18 years of age) are placed in what in Sweden is labelled as “HVB-homes “(residential care homes). These are facilities that specifically direct their work to cater to this heterogenous group of youngsters. A characteristic feature of such institutions is that they aim to work on people to produce revised and somewhat altered individuals (Foucault 2007; Herz and Lalander 2017; Lipsky 1980). Professionals involved in the context of the Swedish reception of UM often expect gratitude in return for their work and tend to sanction action that is framed as expressions of ungratefulness and youngsters acting out or opposing rules as troublemakers (Stretmo 2014). Fassin (2005) and Watters (2008) claimed that the entire refugee reception system – where UM constitute one category among many others – has become imbedded in an overall moral economy discourse, where the legitimate receivers of care are singled out from the illegitimate.

METHODOLOGICAL CONSIDERATIONS

To understand the dynamics of the municipal reception of the UM studied here, a method combining observations and interviews was selected. During a period of two and a half years, I made recurrent visits to two residential care units, where the youngsters and residential staff that were observed and interviewed in this study were situated. I also visited the upper secondary school the youngsters attended and made recurring visits to the group of social service offers who were working with UM in the custody of the municipality in question.²

It is important to keep in mind that the juridical term ‘unaccompanied children’ risks homogenizing a heterogenous group of children and young people (cf. Lalander and Herz 2021; Stretmo 2014; Wernesjö 2014). The youngsters studied were in the age span between 15 and up to 18 years, and they had all arrived in Sweden from diverse countries.³ They carried different experiences with them.⁴ Whereas the majority were boys, there were also always between one and four girls present in the residential units. In total, the two different housing facilities could accommodate approximately 15–17 children at a time. The staff consisted of both men and women. Although staff were always present at the units, the staff density was higher during the daytime.

As the influx of newly arrived UM was quite high when this field study was conducted, this gave me the opportunity to meet, talk to, and observe some of the youngsters on more than two occasions, whereas others participated more briefly.⁵

Although observations were conducted and small talk was made during these participatory observations, additional and formal semi-structured one-on-one and group interviews were conducted with a translator present focusing on daily life, school, leisure, wellbeing, getting by in Sweden, the past, and the future. Sometimes, the translator conducted a more verbatim translation between me and the youngsters. Yet, at other times, the young person talked some Swedish and the translator then participated in the conversation on the initiative of the youngster. Sometimes, someone from the staff or the young people translated themselves.

One-on-one and group interviews with a total of 10 residential staff were conducted. Additionally, a total of 21 individual and group interviews were conducted with other professional staff, comprising 15 teachers and healthcare workers, nine social service officers, and three custodians. These semi-structured interviews emphasized aspects of working with UM.

During my fieldwork, new youngsters came and went, as did many of the officials due to the high rotation of personnel. This made it difficult to follow up on the trajectories of individuals over longer periods of time. Hence, my focus instead became the unfolding of the daily life in the residential homes, the encounters between youngsters and professionals, and the work of the professionals aiming to cater to the needs of UM within different arenas of the municipal reception system.

This study was commissioned by the local municipality, in close cooperation with the County Administrative Board and my university department. For this reason, no formal ethical approval was conducted. Nevertheless, research on children and young people in vulnerable situations and the people working to meet their everyday requirements, awakens important ethical considerations. The study adhered to standard ethical conduct of the university regarding participants’ participation, consent, and confidentiality in storing and reporting research data (Swedish Research Council 2017). Since the participants were all 15 years or older, no permission from legal guardians was necessary. Yet it was imperative to try to make the participating youngsters understand the limits of the study, that their participation in it was entirely voluntary and that they had the right to refuse participation at any time (Cf. Vervliet et al. 2015). Maintaining the trust given by the youngsters by not revealing information given to me in confidence was also important regarding the officials working with them. Hence, it was imperative to keep the conversations I had with professionals on a more general level.

The interviews were transcribed verbatim and the observations captured in field notes. The names of participating youngsters and officials were anonymized. Transcripts and field notes were analysed, focusing on central themes, constructions, problematizations, and contradictions that surfaced from the data (Kvale 2007). Inspired by the concept of discourse adopted from the Foucauldian tradition (cf. Foucault 2007), the focus was to analyse how a discourse of ‘needs’ and ‘care’ were emphasized by youngsters and professionals. These concepts were highlighted to enable an analysis of their assigned meaning, what is or is not said. This also involved analysing how problematizations were presented and studying the narratives and conceptualization that produced them. Understanding how talk frames meaning, legitimizes interventions, and hence, becomes possibly ‘real’ in its implications has been central to the analysis.

LIVING IN THE RESIDENTIAL AND MUNICIPAL CONTEXT

When asked to describe their everyday life, the young people interviewed sometimes dwelled on the need to acquire practical abilities, yet at other times, they stressed more emotional and existential issues. Their ‘needs’ or wishes were often also connected to how they framed the roles of different actors involved in their reception.

One recurring theme that surfaced was ‘Swedish as a key’. Very few of the youngsters interviewed said that they had any actual contact with what they described as ‘Swedish’ young people outside of school. By Swedish, the youngsters were not merely thinking in racialized terms as Scandinavian-looking types with blond hair and blue eyes; more importantly, it was the ability to talk fluent Swedish that was emphasized. Mariam expressed a little harshly that she had actually ‘gotten much better at speaking Tigrinya’ after she came to Sweden. She also expressed frustration regarding her future if her Swedish skills did not advance.

Mariam: At first, I thought … I was blaming these people (migrants) for it, but then now that I have lived here for a while and start thinking about … first of all, I am a big girl now. I have lots of thoughts about the future and what I want to do. And but now I have come to feel that it’s hard … It is because it is difficult, the language (Swedish).

Interviewer: Yes, it’s a difficult language.

Mariam: Plus, you have other things to think about. Then it will be difficult to keep up. (Group interview with Tigrinya-speaking youths)

Becoming a fluent Swedish speaker was a skill many of the youngsters wanted to acquire and saw as essential to get by. Some of them even stated that it was the number one thing to learn. Teachers could then be seen as gatekeepers because of their important role as language tutors.

Alim: Most important to me is the teacher because the teacher is the one who teaches the language, and if I do not know the language, I can’t (even) ask anyone, “I want a glass of water”. (group interview with Arabic-speaking youths)

Without the language, it would be hard to get by in a new context. Mariam framed it as an obligation of the newcomer to acquire the new language. Initially, she had even blamed those who failed to do so, yet coming to terms with how difficult it is to learn Swedish had made her humbler.

An aspect that previous research on UM has highlighted is feelings of loneliness and the need for young people applying for asylum on their own to be able to create new and close relationships (Wernesjö 2014; Stretmo 2014; Herz and Lalander 2017). Issues concerning social inclusion versus exclusion were also prevalent among the young people studied here. The youngsters who seemingly had the easiest time acclimatizing in the residential environment – and in their new life in Sweden – were also those who apparently found a network of friends, either at the HVB-homes or elsewhere. In the two residential units, social groups could be formed based on language affiliation. The young people described it as ‘easier’ to hang out with others who had mastered the same language and came from a similar context.

Jemal: Yes, it’s extra lonely here if you live alone. If we’d been completely alone in another place, it might be … it would be lonely, but I live with them (from same country, same language), they are the same as family. I also believe that you (could have a new family) … if necessary … (group interview with Tigrinya-speaking youths)

Having a group of youngsters to hang out with was constructed as an important protection against feelings of loneliness. Jemal described it as an almost ‘natural’ social community to be part of, the ‘same as family’, and an important protection against feelings of loneliness in a new context.

Mohammed: I have no one to talk to. No one from (Country) (who) speaks the same language … There is only one guy, we go to the same school. His name is Y. We sometimes speak a little (Language). But here at (HVB) I am mostly with an Eritrean and a Syrian because … I speak a little Arabic too. So, I … I have no one I can share my stress with like that. (one-on-one interview)

To be the only one who spoke a certain language could be synonymous with articulating a feeling of loneliness. In practice, this could be expressed in how a young person took on a more passive positioning in daily interactions. It was also a reason that some youngsters gave when describing why they occasionally chose to withdraw from the social arenas in the two facilities.

While a common language was often emphasized as central to feeling connected, sharing a language did not mean automatic inclusion. For example, several young people had formed friendships based more on what they described as shared interests or experiences, across language and borders. Even so, sharing the same country of origin and/or language did not always mean the youngsters formed close attachments.

However, it was not only with their peers that the young people could make contacts; staff were also present at the residential homes. Some young people talked about some staff members as particularly important people. One youngster established what they narrated as a personal relationship with a staff member. However, due to the high staff turnover, this person quit their job, which unfortunately resulted in the young person suddenly not having anyone close to share or entrust thoughts and aspects of their everyday life.

Mahir: Yes, it’s like this, when I want to do something, it’s the staff who follow me and show me the way. If I were to do it myself, it would take four to five hours for me to learn the route. I get this help to find places from them. They help us with a lot of things like that.

Interviewer: I see. Do they help you when you need something emotional? For example, if you feel sad and need someone to talk to?

Mahir: No. They cannot help me with that part. They can help me with homework, for example, or show me where to go, help me go there, but when it comes to feeling sad and processing it … no, I do not think so. If I’m feeling down, I do not approach them. That is, I haven’t tried yet. (group interview with Arabic-speaking youths)

Mahir articulated how he perceived his relationship with the housing staff: on the one hand, the staff could be framed as important practical support people in his new everyday life; on the other hand, he did not frame them as people offering emotional support. The staff’s presence in the everyday lives of young people was governed by how work schedules were set. The youngsters articulated the presence of staff as ‘carrying out work’. According to Eide et al. (2020), organizational frameworks risk obscuring the establishment of close relationships between staff and UM in residential care. In the narrations of the young people in this study staff were articulated as providers of practical service: they were perceived as friendly supporters who ensured that they got to the right places and could help them learn to perform practical tasks, etcetera. The organizational framework also meant that contact with staff members was assumed to be temporary. For example, their connections were expected to end when the youngsters moved to new accommodation or when staff members started working elsewhere.

Some young people spoke with disappointment about being placed in a so-called HVB-home together with young people unknown to them. In contrast to Jemal, who saw his friends at the residence as family, Gholam emphasized how lonely he felt being placed with strange youngsters and staff.

Gholam: So, it was like this that I have heard … I have heard more about America than about Sweden. So, this is how it works when you come to America, then you get a parent, a couple that take care of you, and you are placed with a family until you turn 18 and so on, but now I feel very alone as well, and it isn’t at all what I had imagined. (…) So I … I don’t want to live here, like everyone stays in their room and you don’t have any contact and stuff. I kind of rather want to live with a family. (one-on-one interview)

What Gholam wanted, according to his account, was to be situated in a ‘real family’ that took care of him. ‘A home’ was then constructed as a contrast to the residential environment.

Another theme that recurred in the young people’s narrations related to daily strategies to handle uncertain waiting. ‘Waiting in uncertainty’ could be expressed in different ways and contexts. It could relate to not knowing the eventual outcome of one’s asylum application, hence whether one has a future in Sweden or not. It could also be associated with not knowing how loved ones were coping or if they were still alive. Yet ‘waiting in uncertainty’ was also related to not knowing what would become of them after they turned 18 and were discharged from community care, expected to get by on their own. If the unaccompanied 18-year-old was concurrently an asylum-seeker, turning 18 meant being transferred to an asylum facility for adults under the scrutiny of the Swedish Migration Agency, hence risking deportation if their application was rejected. If the 18-year-old had received a residence permit in Sweden, they were instead expected to leave the residential home and take a step further upwards on the municipal independent living ladder by moving to a self-catering apartment. Either way, the young adult would receive less support in comparison to staying in the HVB-home. Turning 18 implied immediate and radical changes. It always meant losing the custodian’s support and negating the possibility of a family unification in Sweden if it had not been granted before that day.

Uncertain waiting was also expressed by the youngsters about the time in pausing before being able to start studying or advancing in school, commencing meaningful leisure-time activities, being summoned to the obligatory health examination or asylum hearing, etcetera. Overall, ‘waiting in uncertainty’ was something that framed the time and space where they lived their lives.

Mohammed: Everyone I have … arrived at the same time, they have received a residence permit. There are those who have come after me, they have received a residence permit. Everyone who lives here has a residence permit. So, I’m a little bit stressed by (it) … (…) Before, I had a little hard time sleeping. (…) I would like to change class, but I do not get to because I do not have a social security number … There will be others (newcomers), they change class, but I am not allowed to do so. (one-on-one interview)

Previous research has often highlighted how being an asylum-seeker implies many concrete obstacles every day (cf. Brekke 2004; Svensson 2017). Being somewhat on the sideline in relation to other young people or the rest of society was an experience often narrated in this study, as in the quote by Mohammed, who was frustrated by not being able to progress because of a prolonged asylum process.

Yasmin: Yes. The best thing is when you go out and meet friends and do fun things. But when I feel stressed, I usually go to my room and just sit there.

Interviewer: Who do you talk to? I mean when you have problems and worries, who do you go to?

Yasmin: So, it depends on what you’re talking about. But I am by myself … when I feel problems, I am a devoted Muslim, so I usually go to my room and pray … I pray and then I talk to God. (group interview with Somali-speaking youths)

The youngsters adopted different strategies to cope – prayer could, for instance, be a relief if they were religious. Many of them frequently emphasized how engaging in activities/sports and simply hanging out with friends were their best protection against what they described as feeling stressed. ‘Feel(ing) stressed’ was also a means that made it possible to talk about powerlessness, sadness, anxiety, and uncertainty.

At the same time, those young people who gave the clearest expressions of feeling bad (through self-harming behaviour, acting out, etc.) risked being excluded from the social community of compatriots.

According to Herz and Lalander (2017), labelling subjects as lonely may affect their identity and emotional status because loneliness is often framed as a problem. A common feature was to avoid the compatriots who in various ways were described as behaving strangely or who were understood as tricky and/or deviant. Being constructed as someone who ‘acts completely psychiatric!’ (sic.) – as one youngster remarked about another youth in the HVB-home – by displaying signs of feeling unwell or publicly acting out misery meant that person risked being positioned as a kind of contagion in social life.

To summarize, despite sometimes narrating feelings of loneliness, waiting in uncertainty, and feeling stressed, the young people I observed and interviewed seemed to also be striving to position themselves or pass as ‘normal’ in the sense of well-adjusted and respectable young people with prosperous futures ahead of them (cf. Skeggs 1997). Mariam’s quote at the beginning of this section is illustrative; by stating that she is a ‘big girl now’ and that she has ‘lots of thoughts about the future and what I want to do’, she positions herself as a responsible, and hence, respectable actor. This is also a means through which she can then express how much harder it has been to learn Swedish and get by in a new context than she expected.

When talking about the professionals active in their reception, the young people position them as important mediators of practical skills, helping them to acquire Swedish or get from one place to another. Close relationships were seen as desirable, but something one should establish with one’s peers. Even so, many narrated tales of isolation or of having no one to talk to regarding their stress or anxiety.

CARE WORK IN THE MUNICIPAL AND RESIDENTIAL CONTEXT

The officials understood the two HVBs studied here as the heart of the municipal reception and as the first steps on the municipal accommodation ladder under the scrutiny of the social service and the custodians of UM. This was the space where UM spent their days, where they ate and slept, and spent their free time before and after school.

Depending on the country of origin, the UM had rather different opportunities to obtain residency in Sweden. Therefore, some of them were in prolonged asylum processes. Despite the different legal status of the youngsters, there was a consensus among the staff working in both residential homes to narrate what they perceived as their primary task with the UM: to create a safe environment and to cater to these youngsters in their everyday lives according to their individual needs.

Zandra: Safety. I would put safety first. This is the important first step … for the majority, then of course there are exceptions, but for most of the group this is also their first stop (in Sweden) as well. The first place you come to after (you just arrived) … And then it is important to cater to these basic needs, and make sure that you get a safe start, I would say. Safety is important, it’s all about creating a secure first base, from where you can work and develop according to your individual level as well, from where you are. And it is very individually what you need and where you are … where you are in relation to your own development. (group interview with staff)

Safety, care, and needs were concepts that recurred when residential staff described their work and when other professionals narrated how they conceived the work at the residential care units. Yet, the specific HVB-home environment set up to cater to UM was furthermore described as a special kind of residential care facility, since it was directing its activities to nearly adult migrants. Providing ‘care’ could be narrated as catering to basic needs and supporting their transitioning into Swedish society, but also preparing them for independent life. Furthermore, this care assignment was described as compensatory in such a way that UM needed to be prepared to manage by themselves to a greater extent than ‘other’ youngsters (i.e. young people who were considered receivers of prolonged parental support). This pedagogy was supported by the fact that the two homes were run according to the principle of self-sufficiency; the youngsters were expected to cook, wash, clean, and manage their everyday life in general by themselves. However, as made clear from Zandra’s quote, they were also constructed as individuals, hence in practice, expected to have different needs and hold varied knowledge – or levels of maturity – about how to take care of themselves.

Jamil: It … is … everything, from taking responsibility and to help them wake up in the morning on time, brushing teeth, brushing hair, washing, hygiene, going to school … To be able to behave in the society you live in. To accept and respect others regardless of religion, background, ethnicity, and so on. Societal codes. It contains quite a lot, it does.

Interviewer: Yes. Is it some kind of parenting role? …

Jamil: Yes. That’s it. (group interview with residential staff)

Lars: Firstly, it’s important to train them in a good circadian rhythm, so they get a good sleep. That they (UMs) should be helped so they become able to manage their own household, their own hygiene. So that they can clean and wash themselves. And that they (the Staff) should support them (UMs) when they need to go to the store and buy new clothes. (one-on-one interview with a custodian)

It was often emphasized that catering to unaccompanied children and young people resembled a parenting act, where various practical chores and everyday life routines were at the centre. Persuading reluctant teenagers to do homework instead of FIFA gambling or Instagramming or motivating morning-tired youngsters to get up early and in time for school were constructed as vital aspects of this. Many professionals emphasized the importance of the residential home to create a safe haven or a home-away-from-home. Lars focused on the importance of supporting UM in the repetitive daily chores and daily practicalities, whereas Jamil accentuated how staff were important mediators of codes and conduct in the new society.

Inga-Lill: We are so unfamiliar with that. When catering for our own children, it is obvious that there are toilets and running water and that everyone has clean sheets and so forth, but these children come from completely different conditions. We ask them, “Have you been to the dentist?” They do not even know what a dentist is. “That’s only for the rich,” kind of … And there is a challenge, partly to meet up to these children, but also to do that as good as possible. But also, to not forget to demand something in return. Because it’s so easy not to do it, we feel sorry for them and then say okay, it’s clear that you don’t need to go (to school) if you feel bad, or if you misplace or lose something, you get the item replaced and stuff like that. And that breeds contempt for society. Now maybe I’m spinning off topic here but … but I see it as a challenge, (to construct) a reception that … that also includes responsibility and requirements. (one-one-one interview with a social service secretary)

However, such a parental role was also emphasized as aiming to provide ‘more structure than hugs’. This could be interpreted as the staff and other professionals framing it as their mission to enhance the UM’s entry into Swedish society by stressing rules and the importance of adapting to Swedish norms, rather than what was then constructed as being either too lenient or not daring to demand enough of the youngsters. Hagelund (2005) analysed how the self-image of Norwegian kindness and the idea that kindness hinders the integration effort of migrants has become embedded within Norwegian asylum policies. Immigration has been foregrounded as comprising a possible challenge and burden to the Norwegian welfare state model (cf. Vitus and Liden 2010). According to Inga-Lill, to not demand ‘something’ in return even risks breeding societal contempt among the UM. To be required to offer something in return for the services provided could thus be understood as adapting to Swedish norms, becoming responsible, and behaving according to the rules and regulations of the residential home or being well-behaved in school. Embedded in these understandings are also a special narration of needs versus the care that is framed as legitimate/appropriate to offer. Inga-Lill’s quote is also well embedded in the more implicit ‘quid pro quo’ tradition of social work (cf. Mattson 2010). The HVBs become a people-changing apparatus where UM are fostered into grateful and self-catering adults.

The focus on constructing a quick path to independence can be comprehended in connection with the fact that the UM were soon to be left to care for themselves. Being forced to manage by themselves was the inevitable consequence of turning 18. The focus on preparing youngsters for independent living becomes understandable in relation to Swedish policy. The age of majority becomes an important and dividing principle based merely on chronological age, which in practice had little to do with aspects such as, for instance, individual maturity, being employed or not, etcetera (cf. Krekula, Närvänen, and Näsman 2005).

‘Needs’ as such were constructed as being able to live independently in Sweden, and hence, ‘care’ was providing UM with the tools needed to do so. The importance of maintaining rather fixed routines, keeping time, cleanliness, and being able to manage scarce resources were considered important components of the readiness of action in this regard (cf. Jansdotter 2004; Mattson 2010; Skeggs 1997). The care workers spoke of their ‘mission’ as a kind of instrumental parenting, albeit with an emotional distance and an emphasis on fostering rather than aspects of emotional reciprocity and unconditional love that parental or close relationships might also entail.

Within the wider context of municipal reception, other constructions of needs amid care could operate simultaneously.

Hanna: And it can be tough sometimes for some, I believe. We can’t … We don’t have the opportunity to help them and at the same time we see that they feel so bad. They quite often report themselves sick. They stay at home a full day or go home after a few lessons; they have headaches and … It’s kind of diffuse things … And then … . It becomes hard. Since we can’t help them, this just continues, and it affects their studies (negatively). And then many carry … many carry huge expectations that they should advance quickly (in the school system) … “As long as I’ve been enrolled in school for a year, I’ve attended school for a year and then I should be able to advance”. Sometimes they have a hard time understanding that it is knowledge-acquirement we value here, not the time spent. So, we end up having a lot of discussions, I think. (group interview with teachers and school healthcare team)

Among teachers and school healthcare workers, UM could also be accentuated as young people having a rough time and for whom it is a challenge to attend school daily. Having diffuse symptoms, sleeping badly, being absent from school, and hence having a hard time catching up were aspects that teachers and healthcare workers highlighted when asked to talk about the specifics of working with UM. Their school-space logic emphasized that knowledge acquisition is a process that is essentially qualitative and takes time. Levels of knowledge are not measured by the years you have attended school but in relation to the content or abilities you have acquired. The bad state of the UM and the requirements in school did not always match. By stating ‘we can’t help them’, Hanna points to a vacuum where the system (the school system or health care in general) fails to address the emotional needs of UM. UM are also constructed as lacking an understanding of the Swedish school system; thus, they are eager to advance before acquiring the necessary knowledge. The school professionals construct their care work with UM as mainly directed towards facilitating learning.

In comparison to the eagerness to make UM manage on their own as quickly as possible, school professionals emphasize the need to lower their expectations and convince newly arrived youngsters that learning takes time. They are expected to be patient considering their level of abilities and to work hard and in a targeted manner to advance.

There is a different narration of time and speed amid age in the problematizations made by the teachers. Although chronological age has huge implications for who, when, and which part of the Swedish school system to attend, UM create a conundrum. The compulsory school system is based on a strict age order regime; you get enrolled at the age of six and you are expected to advance one grade per year until graduation day. Yet, as newly arrived children and UM often have very different school experiences, their knowledge base is not always easy to match up with their same-age peer groups. For most Swedish-born children and young people, attending school implies an automatic yearly level mobility according to their age and the implicit expectancy that their age equals specific knowledge. As clarified in Hanna’s quote, this is not the case for newly arrived minors, for whom the number of years spent in the school system does not automatically indicate advancement. This is also something that she constructs as difficult to communicate to the UM. Although they are granted access to education (inclusion) according to their individual needs, just like any other child in Sweden, they were furthermore enrolled in introductory educational programmes often separated (exclusion) from what can be constructed as the ‘normal’ or ‘Swedish’ class (cf. Bunar and Juvonen 2021; Pinson, Arnot, and Candappa 2010).

In sum, the problematizations made by professionals came to frame UM as specific kinds of youngsters: as somewhat different (othering) from our own children as Inga-Lill expressed it, and/or in need of being taught ‘how to behave’ according to Swedish norms and societal codes according to Jamil’s earlier quote. They were framed as unaccustomed to attending to their own hygiene, from ‘completely different conditions’, and for whom ‘we’ (the municipal reception/the Swedish society?) should ask something in return for the services provided. This construction also maintains a view of Sweden as essentially different and ‘a safe haven’, where no one, regardless of their religion, background, or ethnicity, is being discriminated against and opposing the context from which UM originate (cf. Hall 1997). Parallel to what Haglund constructs as the self-imagery of Norwegianness as kindness and the idea that too much kindness risks the integration effort of migrants, the UM are seen as in need of firm fostering, as too much kindness is framed as ‘breed(ing) contempt for society’.

CONCLUSIONS

During observations and interviews, it became clear that the young people and the professionals studied had different scopes for action in daily life negotiations. In a study conducted by Herz and Lalander (2017), UM narrated experiences of being stereotypically categorized by the staff in their residential care home, which was considered provocative by the youngsters, yet hard to question since their negative positioning was institutionalized. Thus, resistance to rules and regulations had to be acted out in a hidden manner (ibid.). Wernesjö (2014) and Petäjäniemi, Lanas, and Kaukko (2021) problematize the high level of gratitude towards the ‘system’ that UM express and argue that gratitude can be analysed as a form of impression management, thus a strategy to re-negotiate one’s position and to pass as respectable. Paradoxically, a seemingly compliant adaption to rules and regulations can open new spaces for action. Not to fuss or act out, which the young people in the study constructed as preferable, can be analysed as a means of creating a space where they can then reposition themselves as respectable in the eyes of professionals/other young people/friends.

In discussions with professionals, Sweden and hence Swedishness were constructed as a peak of modernity and a binary opposition to the context from which UM originate. The implicit culturalization and homogenization (cf. Hall 1997) of the UM renders their heterogeneity invisible. They are also constructed as somewhat incomplete subjects. The UM are furthermore attributed individual needs and specific rights as children. When turning 18 (age of majority), they become juridical adults, with obligations instead of rights, and they are expected to support themselves and live independent lives regardless of their emotional needs.

In this study, how a discourse of needs was constructed and negotiated in conversations and in interactions between young people and professionals emerged. In this process, some needs were deemed as more or less legitimate. Professionals responded to what they framed as basic needs and constructed themselves as important mediators of the Swedishness the youngsters were constructed as lacking. The young people saw the professionals as providers of practical support (language training and/or getting by in a new context, etc.). In the school context, needs could be constructed as emotional needs – important to cater to – but not framed as the responsibility of teachers/school health care.

Both professionals and young people constructed the work done by professionals as ‘caring about’ them (i.e. conducting practical tasks in their regard). The emotional ‘care for’ aspect of care work was not seen as an obligation nor to be expected of professionals active to do their job in the lives of UM. Organizational aspects (high personnel turnover/youngsters moving) were also preventive of deeper connections being established.

Double functions are built into the reception of UM, whereby the helping/caring for and disciplining/people fostering practices become interwoven, and the imbalance of power gives the subjects (professionals versus UM) different interpretative space or privilege (cf. Foucault 2007). Making UM master practical chores was emphasized as important when preparing them for independent life. Doing care work then came to signal temporality, interchangeability, and the professionals making themselves redundant. Aspects that can be framed as opposing the idea of exclusive, long-lasting, mutual, and close relationships. In practice, young people were often referred to their peers or to themselves for emotional support. The youngsters articulated need for lasting relationships, were silenced, and were not catered to within a formal reception emphasizing structure instead of hugs.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Notes

1. In this article, the concept of ‘professionals’ refers to all the different actors involved in the everyday reception of UM in Sweden. The group of professionals or semi-professionals followed up here consisted of social service officers, the staff at the two residential care/‘HVB’-units, custodians, teachers, and healthcare professionals.

2. Most visits to the HVB-homes were conducted in the afternoons/early evenings as the youngsters were attending school during the daytime. Some visits were made during the daytime to interview staff. Social workers, teachers, and school healthcare teams were visited and interviewed in their workplaces. One custodian was interviewed over the phone and two at work.

3. The youngsters studied originated from Afghanistan, Eritrea, Morocco, Somalia, Sudan, and Syria.

4. During conversations and interviews, some youngsters talked about growing up in nuclear or extended families, yet others told stories of having been orphans at an early age. Some shared their school experiences, yet others told stories of work instead of school, analphabetism, and of having very little or no schooling experience upon arrival in Sweden.

5. In addition to observations, a total of 16 taped and translated interviews were conducted with about 25 different young people, of which 12 interviews were conducted in groups consisting of both boys and a few girls. Five individual interviews with a total of four boys were also conducted. Twelve young people were interviewed more than twice. One additional one-on-one interview was done where the young person did not want the interview to be taped, from which I had to rely on written notes. Most interviews with professionals lasted approximately one hour, while interviews (group and one-on-one) with young people were shorter, lasting between 30 minutes and one hour.