To an outsider, the world of American politics might seem more like a brilliantly written SNL skit than a functioning institution. From the White House producing ASMR-style deportation videos to a billionaire worth more than the GDP (Gross Domestic Product) of 140 countries running a government department, stepping into this political arena feels not just daunting, but straight-up bizarre.
It’s no wonder that many international students on campus hesitate to get involved in one of Harvard’s varying political spaces. Whether you are involved in one of the Institute of Politics’ 16 programs, campaign in the community, or simply debate policy over lunch, the possibilities to engage in this realm are infinite. But even to me, as a Canadian—a kind of double agent who is only exposed as non-American when I pronounce the word “bag” (behg) or “pasta” (pass-ta)—the idea of joining any political conversation was initially intimidating. I was afraid of feeling underprepared to engage in meaningful debates or having my opinions deemed “invalid” as a result of my nationality.
In the end, both of these worries proved to be wrong. Not only do I plan to be a government concentrator at Harvard where these types of discussions are inevitable, but I have also participated in organizations like Harvard Political Review, Policy Program, and Harvard Public Opinion Project.
International students may be apprehensive engaging in American politics for several reasons. When I participated in the First-Year International Program (FIP), we received a list of controversial topics to tread carefully around when speaking with Americans. The list included key issues such as gun violence, abortion, climate change, and for some reason, evolution (alright, that one may have been in for giggles). Now admittedly, many students struggle with expressing their opinions on contentious issues, not just internationals. According to a survey from the Harvard Crimson, only one-third of Harvard’s last graduating class felt comfortable expressing their opinions about controversial topics during their time in college. However, for international students, the fear of saying the wrong thing in an unfamiliar climate is magnified.
While organizations and groups centered around American politics are always open to internationals, they sometimes lack the representation needed to encourage students from outside the United States to join, something I’ve noticed within my own extracurricular involvements. Despite having a “World Section,” only four of the 36 board members at the HPR, including myself, are international. Similarly in HPOP, just a handful of team members are foreigners. This isn’t the fault of these organizations, as they can only select from their pool of applicants. If their membership happens to be predominantly American, then it is a reflection of interest—not organizational bias.
I recognize that being Canadian does give me a distinct advantage within American political spaces. While others are navigating the complexities of switching languages, my greatest difficulty is figuring out which Dunkin’ order most closely aligns with my usual Tim Hortons order back home. Yet even for native English speakers, American political terminology can be puzzling. A liberal doesn’t quite mean an advocate for private property and individual freedoms. A Republican isn’t necessarily a supporter of a republic. The Electoral College isn’t a place where people study. Even the party colours—yes, I spelled colour with a ‘u’ on purpose—don’t align with that of many nations. In the U.K., Australia, and New Zealand, for instance, red represents the primary centre-left party while blue is used for their conservative party.
Moreover, most international students haven’t taken an American government or history class, raising concerns about whether or not they have sufficient knowledge to participate effectively in political debates. Evidently, there is some truth to these beliefs. Internationals might struggle to engage in conversations where familiarity with the Constitution or other founding documents is imperative. They may not know what the Bill of Rights is, how Medicaid and Medicare function, or why the Second Amendment exists (that one still perplexes me). Still, internationals bring something to the table that Americans on campus don’t: what it’s like to live beyond this nation’s borders.
Armed with a lens of objectivity, internationals can analyze political situations with fresh viewpoints, unshaped by the same national loyalties that influence our American peers. Internationals also grew up in various geographical, political, and cultural environments, allowing them to make contributions that extend past domestic policy issues. My own class of 2028 hails students from 94 different countries—meaning there are 94 varying perspectives not captured by the American student body. It’s time for us to use those experiences and pool our ideas together to shape politics in an impactful way. If an American ever scoffs at you for not knowing an U.S.-specific fact, ask them to name your country’s leader. Chances are, they can’t. And to be honest, I probably couldn’t either.
So to all internationals, don’t be afraid to join a discussion or political organization that piques your interest. We need your worldly perspectives to challenge assumptions and enrich campus dialogue. Finally, to my dearest American friends, remember to welcome your international peers into your political space—you may be surprised by what you learn.
Ella Ricketts ’28 (ericketts@college.harvard.edu) is a guest writer for the Independent and a non-resident alien from the so-called 51st state.