PART 1
Restoring People to Language Assessment
1
LANGUAGE TESTS FOR RESIDENCY AND CITIZENSHIP AND THE CONFERRING OF INDIVIDUALITY
Tim McNamara, Kamran Khan, and Kellie Frost
Introduction
A fundamental aspect of the power of tests (Shohamy, 2001) is their role as gatekeepers to membership of valued social categories. Tests thus have the power to confer on a person a sense of being socially recognizable as acceptable or unacceptable, as belonging or not belonging. Shohamy (2001) was one of the first in our field to draw attention to the famous passage in Discipline and Punish (Foucault, 1977) in which Foucault identifies the way in which tests and examination confer individuality:
The examination as the fixing, at once ritual and āscientific,ā of individual differences, as the pinning down of each individual in his own particularity ā¦ clearly indicates the appearance of a new modality of power in which each individual receives as his status his own individuality, and in which he is linked by his status to the features, the measurements, the gaps, the āmarksā that characterize him and make him a ācase.ā
(p. 192)
Language requirements in procedures for gaining residency and citizenship, satisfied through passing tests, are examples of the practices identified by Foucault. Such tests, we will argue, are mechanisms of wider ideologies that restrict entrance for migrants and influence particular learner behaviors toward a dominant language (Blackledge, 2009a, 2009b; McNamara & Shohamy, 2008; Shohamy, 2006). McNamara and Roever (2006) describe this interface between ideological mechanism (Shohamy, 2006) and personal experience as āthe point of insertion of a policy into individual livesā (p. 192).
In this chapter, we report case studies of the experience of individuals as they engage with the discourses enacted through such tests. We begin by discussing the relationship of language and social practices in requirements for residency and citizenship, and then consider two contexts: three individuals describing the impact of repeated sitting of language tests to gain permanent residency in Australia, and the experience of a single individual negotiating the language requirements involved in becoming a citizen in the UK.
Language, Residency, and Citizenship
Knowledge of the national language is increasingly becoming a criterion in the determination of rights to immigration and citizenship, evidenced by the growing number of countries adopting formal language testing regimes (Extra, Spotti, & Van Avermaet, 2009). Language testing for immigration and citizenship purposes reflects the ācommon senseā notion, central to contemporary political and media discourses across Europe and other Western nations, including Australia, that knowledge of the national or official language on the part of migrants is a prerequisite for their successful āintegration.ā It is widely argued that language-testing practices thereby normalize linguistic and cultural homogeneity and reinforce discourses that situate minority languages and multilingual practices as threats to social cohesion and security (Blackledge, 2006, 2009b; Horner, 2009; Shohamy, 2009; Stevenson & Schanze, 2009; Van Avermaet, 2009). For example, Blackledge (2006, 2009b) highlights the ways in which British political discourses imply that ālanguage,ā or more precisely, a lack of knowledge of English, is the primary factor driving unemployment, crime, and social unrest among particular migrant groups, despite the fact that the groups targeted are typically second- or third-generation āmigrantsā who are bilingual speakers of the national language. Such discourses, he argues, are often used to justify the use of language tests as a means of promoting āsocial cohesion,ā masking the presence of other, state-entrenched obstacles to social participation. Similarly, Shohamy (2001, 2006, 2009) has repeatedly pointed out that tests are used for purposes far broader than simply measuring knowledge, and that the widespread acceptance of the legitimacy of tests means that the often discriminatory and illiberal policy agendas they serve remain hidden.
Language Tests, Immigration, and Residency in Australia
Before being eligible to apply for Australian citizenship, migrants must first be granted permanent residency (PR). PR rights are accessible via a range of migration pathways: economic (or skilled), family, and refugee and humanitarian streams. Currently, only the economic migration pathway involves a language test requirement, although this may soon change (Morrison, 2013).
The language test requirement for PR in Australia forms part of an overall points system in which a minimum of 60 points across a variety of categories, including age, educational qualifications, employment experience, and English language ability, is needed. As of July 2011, the minimum required score was increased from 5 to 6 on the International English Language Testing System (IELTS). No points are attributed to the minimum IELTS score of 6, but extra points are awarded for scores of 7 and 8 on IELTS, 10 and 20 points, respectively, and these extra points are needed in most cases to fulfill the overall requirement. While this has remained a relatively uncontroversial policyāthe notion that migrants need to be competent users of English in order to be able to gain skilled employment is, for the most part, uncontestedāthe reality is that over half those applying for permanent residency via the economic stream are already living in Australia1āworking in a skilled profession and having completed their higher education in Australiaāand yet are unable to readily achieve the points they need for language. What do these migrants make of the experience of being subjected to this testing regime?
Language Tests and the Individualās Experience of the Path to Residency
In the following section, interviews with three migrants attempting to meet language requirements as part of their application for PR in Australia are reported. They were accessed through professional contacts and test preparation courses, and all volunteered to share their experiences. All have lived in Australia for at least three years, have completed tertiary qualifications in Australia, and are in full-time employment. They have each so far satisfied all of the criteria for permanent residency apart from the language test score requirement. The interviews reveal that the test experiences of these individuals affect their perceptions of self and belonging in conflicting ways.
āSā from Sri Lanka has lived in Australia for five years. She completed tertiary education in Australia and has been working full-time in her field for over a year. āSā has spoken English since birth and identifies herself as bilingual (English-Sinhala). She has so far attempted IELTS four times and achieved 8 overall on the third and fourth attempts, but no higher than 7.5 for writing; she requires 8 in all four skills in order to gain the points she requires for permanent residency. Although she believes that language tests are an appropriate means of ensuring migrants are able to communicate with the local population, she identifies language as a marker of identity in conflicting ways. First, her English knowledge positions her as belonging in the dominant community in relation to her Asian friends:
Iāve got a few friends, theyāre from Asian countries, theyāve been studying here, I mean, theyāve finished their degrees but unless you know them very well, itās very difficult to converse with them simply because their English is not too good at all. So, itās a good way of gauging somebodyās ability to communicate, but what I think is you shouldnāt have a very high score, because after all, um, English is not the mother tongue of most of us, so itās not fair to think us of being of very, very good high standard as maybe a native speaker would.
Although she identifies herself as an English-Sinhala bilingual speaker, in relation to the test she identifies herself as an outsider (non-native speaker) due to her inability to achieve the score she requires on the writing component of the test. This positioning seems consistent with dominant ideologies. She does not challenge the notion that a ānativeā standard exists, nor that it is superior to other forms of language, but she contests the imposition of such a standard as a benchmark for communicative ability:
Itās pretty frustrating when I mean, yeah I can sort of communicate the whole point is to be able to communicate in English properly and I donāt have a communication problem as such.
āEā is from Iran and he has lived in Australia for over three years. He completed his Master degree in Australia and has been working in his field for a year. As with āSā above, he does not challenge the governmentās right to test language, but he sees the score level demanded as perpetuating a circle of exclusion. He reports difficulty making friends, due in part to a lack of confidence communicating in English. This reinforces the exclusion he feels due to the test score requirement, which he perceives as unattainable unless he is first able to access the community of native speakers:
I couldnāt find friends here, I was mostly alone and I am alone right now after being, living here for 3Ā½ years. Itās a long time for being alone but I, I donāt know is it good thing or bad thing but I got used to it eventually ā¦ other part was obviously the language barrier.
To get [IELTS] 8 the things that makes an 8 is not achieved during the class. You have to, you have to, you have to be here or have a great connection with the people here, the native people.
āMā from Colombia has lived in Australia for four years. She completed her Master degree in Australia, and has been working for two years in an administrative position. She started learning English when she arrived and requires a score of 7 on IELTS for permanent residency. She has made two unsuccessful attempts so far.
It is interesting to compare the way she perceived herself before her second attempt at the test and her reports immediately afterwards. Before the test, she asserted her ability to communicate effectively in English and her successful integration into the Australian community. She rejected the need to justify the legitimacy of her sense of belonging that she feels the test requirement implies:
I am functional. I work in an Australian company. And if you ask them, I think, they have no problems with me and my communication ā¦ I havenāt heard any complaint about me from my customers, because Iām in contact with them every day. I pay taxes, like you. I havenāt committed any crime here. I consider myself a decent person and my husband is very decent. We were trying just, we are trying just to build a better future.
I speak a lot with Neil and Bridget, they are my neighbors. Ah, my neighbors are so lovely. My neighbor is Neil, heās very Aussie. And Bridget is super Aussie. And Rachie, from work, sheās super super Aussie, and Michael as well, the way they, the way they speak to me, their slang. This is a different thing than the listening IELTS test. Even if they use slang with me, I can understand everything ā¦ we couldnāt feel the difference between, you know ā¦
Speaking to her after her lack of success on the test for a second time, she was hesitating and self-correcting her grammar and pronunciation. Her response to the question āDo you feel less confident than you did before?ā reveals that her test experiences had undermined her sense of confidence and led to her perceiving herself as a learner, or imperfect speaker:
Yes, and I have started feeling silly most of the time. Especially with my speaking. Every time I have to think twice ā¦
Her comments in relation to the test scores also suggest her feelings of belonging in the wider community have been undermined by her test experiences. She sees herself positioned as ānon-whiteā and as a non-native speaker of English, and she embraces her āothernessā by mocking what she perceives to be the dominant ideology underlying the test requirements:
They just āweāre going to make it harder for them, 7, 8, be...