International students call for LGBTQ-specific mental health support as they hide identities at home

In Canada, Yatharth Sethi is a 22-year-old studying computer science who likes to cook with his boyfriend on the weekends. 

But at home in India, Sethi plays the role of a straight person, looking forward to marriage and having kids.

"It is extremely hard. Every time I have to visit my home country, there is a major identity crisis and I have to constantly switch between who I am and who I have to pretend to be," said Sethi, which is not their real name. CBC News has agreed to keep Sethi's identity confidential due to safety concerns that the source might face back in India.

Many international students who are not straight or cisgender say they have to wear a "mask" the minute they go back to their home countries. They are forced to go back into the closet, adhering to the societal conventions of their countries. 

The issue is top of mind as Canadian universities welcome a cohort of new and returning post-secondary students from around the world for the fall semester. Canada is one of the world's most sought-after markets for international students, attracting almost 800,000 in 2022 alone. 

At the same time, many countries are becoming more hostile to LGBTQ people.

In Nigeria, for instance, police arrested more than 60 people in a raid on an apparent same-sex wedding early Monday, while Ugandan authorities are for the first time charging a man with "aggravated homosexuality," an offence that can be punishable by death under the country's anti-LGBTQ legislation.

It could be religious doctrines condemning homosexuality, cultural values that emphasize traditional family structures, and legal systems that criminalize the LGBTQ community. As a result, international students might find themselves in situations where they need to suppress their authentic selves and adopt a different persona.

'I have to hide myself when I am in conversations'

Ahmed Jarb, a 23-year-old Palestinian studying in B.C., raised the concern of micro-analyzing one's behaviour to hide their sexual identity from family back home. 

"It definitely is strange because you're living [in Canada], a certain life, and then you go home, and you live another life…You have to be really careful who you're talking to, what you say, things you don't say," said Jarb, not their real name. CBC News has agreed to keep their identity confidential due to safety concerns.

Sethi says on visits back to India he makes up a fake girlfriend so relatives do not get suspicious.

"I have to hide my identity. That's your biggest thing. I have to hide myself when I am in conversations … It feels kind of claustrophobic in the sense that I am isolated, I don't belong here," Sethi said.

Kamal Al-Solaylee, director of the school of journalism, writing and media at the University of British Columbia, who identifies as gay, was an international student in London during the 1980s when homosexuality was still punishable by death in his homeland of Yemen.

"When I used to go back to Yemen as an international student, I used to retreat back into the closet," Al-Solaylee said. "It was a survival skill." 

The struggle to stay true to one's identity in such situations can be complex.

When asked about what ways he preserved this part of his identity when he went back to Yemen, Al-Solaylee answered, "I held on to English really tight. This was when I read a lot and listened to BBC World Services and watched American movies and British dramas. My rebellion was to make Arabic a second language."

More supports needed 

There have been a great deal of reports on homophobic discrimination against students in Canada, such as the first national climate survey on homophobia, biphobia, and transphobia in Canadian schools called the Egale report .

Yet, the issues and challenges that international LGBTQ students face have "received little or no attention," according to Elizabeth S. Patrick from the University of Western Ontario in their thesis Investigating the Experiences of Queer International Students.

Struby Struble, co-ordinator of the University of Missouri's LGBTQ resource centre, says a "double barrier" exists for overseas students who are members of the community.

When they are among their international student friends, they feel alienated because they are members of the LGBTQ group, and when they are on campus, they feel isolated because they are international students.

"The queer student from here doesn't have to think about immigration, doesn't have to think about getting a house or supporting themselves financially because they live with their parents, for example. Whereas queer international students obviously need to think about their identity and relationships and all that," said Jarb.

The burden it comes with is the never-ending play of "code-switching," which refers to people from under-represented groups — consciously or unconsciously — adapting their language, syntax, grammar, behaviour and appearance to fit into the dominant culture.

"I experience having to 'code switch' due to Colombia and, in general, Latin America being very homophobic and historically hetero-centric places," says Freddy Mendoza, who came from Colombia to study film production at Vancouver Film School in 2014.

"This is something that, as a Canadian, I have experienced here as well. It may come as a surprise, but the reality is that even when we don't experience discrimination in the same way or level here, we still have similar experiences."

Universities' mental health support uneven, LGBTQ students say

International students say they are fighting to stay true to themselves without gambling away their security. 

Jarb says universities, in most cases, can do more to support students.

"There have been cases [where] my friends ... had to undergo the wrath of their families and the universities they were from did not offer any help," Jarb says. 

"I do think there should be some kind of assistance program. I know [universities] provided a similar program for students from Ukraine. There's some hypocrisy in their policies, like who gets the support and who doesn't get support."

UBC offers counselling and resources for students in need but none of them are focused on the LGBTQ community.

"Not that I'm undermining people who get support from UBC, but I do think when you're making a statement of solidarity, for example, you should make it with all communities, especially queer international students," says Jarb.

In an email statement to CBC News, Noorjean Hassam, UBC's vice-president for student health and well-being, says all counsellors at the university have received training to effectively assist students from diverse backgrounds, with some focusing on support for international students with intersecting identities.

Hassam also highlights UBC's ongoing efforts to hire a counsellor specifically dedicated to supporting LGBTQ students.

"If there are specific gaps in what UBC is able to offer, we work with students on referrals to the community, and are exploring the establishment of memorandums of understanding with community practitioners to augment our capacity," she said.

The Vancouver-based LGBTQ advocacy group QMUNITY also connects international students seeking help with counsellors who have personal experience in this area, according to Keitu Malatsi, the organization's volunteer co-ordinator.

Malatsi, a self-identified queer international student from South Africa who studied at UBC from 2017 to 2022, says that while she utilized the university's counselling services, there was a significant deficiency in the availability of counsellors with lived experience as LGBTQ individuals of colour.

She expressed skepticism about significant improvements in UBC's support for international students in the near future.

"I cannot trust that they're actually doing a lot of effort to be better. The response is always very minimal from UBC — and it's very telling to students," Malatsi said.