Negotiating cultural and academic challenges: higher education experiences of young Australian Chinese female immigrants

In 2024, all domestic students enrolled in higher education in Australia who were born in mainland China were 23,741, including about half of female students (Department of Education, 2025). The study focusses on Young Australian Chinese Female Immigrants (YACFIs) who are also in the period of emerging adulthood (Hopwood et al., 2011). YACFIs emigrated with their parents between the ages of 6 and 14 but grew up and attended school in the host nation (Wang and Collins, 2016). Inadequate knowledge about higher education possibilities, cultural differences, citizenship challenges, language barriers and discrimination frequently aggravate their difficulties. Despite these significant challenges, research specifically addressing the higher education experiences of YACFIs in Australia remains extremely limited. Most existing studies either combine this group with broader immigrant or international student populations or focus on male immigrants, thereby overlooking the unique, gendered perspectives of 1.5-generation Chinese Australian women.

This pilot qualitative study addresses this gap by exploring the higher education experiences of YACFIs through narrative inquiry, highlighting how their trajectories unfold, often diverging significantly from those of native-born peers (Colakoglu et al., 2018). Applying standards based on native-born female immigrants to Chinese female immigrants without recognising their unique circumstances can be detrimental (Sue et al., 2022). To seek a better understanding of YACFIs’ higher educational experiences, we explored the research question: How do two YACFIs perceive and describe their higher education experiences in Australia?

This study extends existing bicultural-identity research by focusing on 1.5-generation Chinese-Australian female students navigating higher education, thereby grounding the analysis in a gendered perspective. Prior studies for example, Author 1 (2023) used a focus group to examine hybrid identity formation among young Chinese-Australians, and Liu (2015) documented how later-generation Chinese-Australians often adopt “shifted” (hyphenated) identities did not specifically address women’s experiences in academia. In contrast, this study introduces positioning theory as a novel analytic lens: positioning theory frames identity as dynamically co-constructed through reflexive self-positioning and interactive positioning by others. This enables analysis of how these young women negotiate their sense of self in both educational and family contexts. The narrative-comparative case design provides richly textured data on each participant’s journey, revealing how structural factors (e.g. institutional culture, migration context) and interpersonal forces (family expectations, peer relations) jointly shape their academic trajectories. The experiences of this specific sample can serve as a reference for a broader population of immigrant or international students, helping to generalise implications for education policy and practice. By applying positioning theory and a comparative narrative design, our study offers novel insights into intersecting cultural and academic challenges faced by Chinese-Australian women, insights that are not captured by earlier studies.

Higher education institutions globally are experiencing increasing diversification, including growing numbers of immigrant students (Zimmerman Nilsson et al., 2025). For immigrant women, navigating higher education involves complex interplay between cultural identity, family expectations, peer relationships and institutional structures. Zimmerman Nilsson et al.’s (2025) integrative review identifies five key themes: tensions in changing expectations and health impacts; conflicts of loyalty between community of origin and education; victimisation within higher education; family and friends as social support; and higher education as empowerment. Crucially, family operates as both constraint and facilitator – simultaneously enabling and complicating women’s educational trajectories.

This duality is particularly salient for women from Confucian-influenced backgrounds. Sun et al. (2019) conceptualise dual filial piety balancing traditional values with host country individualism, as significantly impacting career decisions. Chao’s (1994) foundational work on “training” (guan) in Chinese parenting further illuminates how culturally embedded practices shape educational aspirations. However, as Colakoglu et al. (2018) note, applying standards based on native-born women to female immigrants without recognising unique circumstances can be detrimental.

Family expectations exert powerful influence. Van den Bergh and Du Plessis (2012) demonstrate how highly skilled migrant women negotiate between professional goals and family expectations. Colakoglu et al. (2018) highlight how family support systems, while beneficial, may impose additional pressures to conform to specific pathways. Chao and Tseng (2002) underscore Asian parents’ high educational expectations as strategies for ensuring children’s social mobility. Yet Zimmerman Nilsson et al. (2025) document how this creates tensions when personal interests misalign with parental aspirations. Wu and Wu’s (2015) study of Vietnamese immigrant women in Taiwan reveals how traditional roles are challenged through education, with women experiencing guilt for not fulfilling family obligations.

Peer relationships constitute another critical dimension. Akosah-Twumasi et al. (2021) explore how peer influences can counter parental expectations. Zimmerman Nilsson et al. (2025) identify friends as vital social support, with peers providing guidance on navigating higher education systems. In refugee contexts, social media enables connections with enrolled students who provide information about programmes (Dahya and Dryden-Peterson, 2016). However, peer influence is not unilaterally positive – supportive peers may also reinforce conservative expectations (Author 1, 2023).

Institutional belonging emerges as crucial. Drawing on Crenshaw’s (1991) intersectionality, scholars illuminate how overlapping systems – race, gender, immigration status – create unique configurations of disadvantage. Montgomery and Ghosh’s (2025) duoethnographic study reveals how immigrant women internalise expectations of “superhuman” competence, intensified by academic cultures that valorise self-sacrifice while penalising caregiving. Gatwiri and Udah (2023) theorise how Black African academics navigate “Coloniality of Power” and “Coloniality of Knowledge” in Australian higher education, experiencing microaggressions, hyper-surveillance and epistemic Othering.

For Chinese Australian women specifically, these dynamics intersect with gendered expectations. Chu (2024) documents how Asian women in predominantly white institutions experience “double marginalisation”, due to ethnic identity and gender undermining belonging. This aligns with research demonstrating that immigrant women faculty navigate “cultural tokenism” (Ghosh and Barber, 2021), shaped by “perpetual foreigner” stereotypes and gendered assumptions about authority (Sim et al., 2024). Thakurta et al.’s (2024) study of South Asian international students demonstrates how students encounter “majoritarian stories” – hegemonic narratives that reify white privilege – with participants questioning whether institutional acceptance valued their “brain” or their “Brownness”.

Despite growing attention to diversity in Australian higher education, research specifically addressing 1.5-generation Chinese Australian women remains limited. National reviews indicate Australian diversity research has focused on broad equity groups rather than Asian Australian or migrant-background students (Author 1, 2023). While studies examine Chinese international students (Ye and Edwards, 2017), the 1.5-generation, those migrating during formative years, which remains underexplored. Ziaian et al. (2023) document that parents from non-English-speaking backgrounds hold especially positive university expectations, yet research rarely examines how daughters negotiate filial obligations alongside personal aspirations. Carangio et al. (2021) demonstrate how racism shapes skilled immigrant women’s workplace experiences, but higher education experiences of young women remain under-researched.

This gap is significant given the growing population of domestic students born in mainland China. These YACFIs navigate multiple ecological systems: microsystem (family), mesosystem (peers), exosystem (immigration policies) and macrosystem (cultural patterns) (Stebleton, 2011). As Zimmerman Nilsson et al. (2025) conclude, the focus on constraints rather than facilitators points to need for studies capturing full complexity, acknowledging family as both enabler and aggravator.

This study uses positioning theory (Harré and Van Langenhove, 1999) to examine identity negotiation. Positioning theory frames identity as dynamically co-constructed through reflexive self-positioning and interactive positioning by others (Davies and Harré, 1990). This enables analysis of how YACFIs negotiate sense of self across educational, familial and social contexts. For YACFIs, the moral order holds particular tension within notions of home, identity and familial obligations shaped by cross-cultural complexities (Van Langenhove, 2017).

This review reveals interconnected gaps. Firstly, while international scholarship increasingly examines immigrant women through intersectional lenses (Montgomery and Ghosh, 2025; Thakurta et al., 2024), Australian research has yet to substantively engage with 1.5-generation Chinese Australian women. Secondly, studies of Chinese Australians focus on hybrid identity broadly (Author 1, 2023) or later-generation experiences (Liu, 2015), without specifically addressing women’s higher education navigation. Thirdly, while family, peers and institutional climate are well-documented, research rarely examines how these intersect through an explicit theoretical lens capturing identity as dynamic and co-constructed. This study addresses these gaps by focusing specifically on 1.5-generation Chinese Australian women in higher education, applying positioning theory and grounding analysis in the Australian context.

This study was designed as an exploratory pilot qualitative inquiry (Yin, 2017), aiming to explore the under-researched experiences of YACFIs in higher education. As a pilot, its purpose was not to yield generalisable findings but to identify emergent patterns and to help refine the study design for future larger-scale research. Data were generated through semi-structured, in-depth interviews with two participants recruited via purposeful and snowball sampling strategies. Table 1 provides a summary of the participants’ demographic and academic backgrounds.

Participants were recruited using purposive and snowball sampling strategies to reach Chinese Australian women fitting the study criteria. Both participants had migrated to Australia between ages 6 and 14, placing them in the 1.5-generation cohort. We deliberately selected two contrasting cases to enable analytical comparison: one participant was pursuing doctoral research in a STEM field, while the other had interrupted an undergraduate program. This deliberate contrast follows Yin’s (2017) multiple-case logic, allowing in-depth comparative analysis rather than broad generalisation.

Data analysis followed a step-by-step narrative inquiry approach guided by positioning theory. All interviews were audio-recorded and transcribed verbatim. We began by reading each transcript multiple times to become immersed in the data. Next, we coded the transcripts for emerging themes, with particular attention to instances of reflexive self-positioning (how participants described their own identities and experiences) and interactive positioning (how they described the expectations of others in family, academic and social contexts). We specifically coded for two types of positioning: reflexive positioning (instances where a participant describes her own identity, thoughts or agency, e.g. “I felt responsible to succeed”, coded as reflexive) and interactive positioning (instances where a participant describes how others see or treat her, e.g. “My parents expected me to excel”, coded as interactive). These operational definitions ensured consistency in identifying positioning acts. We proceeded iteratively. After initial coding, the team met to compare and discuss the codes. An initial codebook was developed with definitions and example quotes. Using Braun and Clarke’s (2021) thematic approach, we then organised codes into broader themes (e.g. cultural expectations, academic self-efficacy, identity conflict). We wrote analytic memos after each coding round to record reflections on emerging patterns and our own assumptions. Inter-coder reliability was ensured by having both researchers code all transcripts independently and then calculating agreement (>80%). Disagreements were resolved through discussion and consensus, refining code definitions as needed.

We acknowledge that this pilot study’s small, non-random sample limits generalisability (Teresi et al., 2022). The insights are provisional and intended to guide future research rather than provide definitive conclusions. Moreover, the participants’ narratives may be influenced by retrospective bias and social desirability, and our interpretations are subject to the researchers’ own perspectives. These limitations were mitigated by our reflexive procedures and will be carefully considered in the larger study design. Despite these limitations, the pilot findings have already identified key issues (such as bicultural family pressures and academic adjustment) that will be tested with a broader sample. The strengthened methodological approach and coding framework developed here will directly inform the next phase of our research, enhancing its rigor and relevance.

Rita is a Chinese-born student who grew up speaking Mandarin at home. She is a female dietetics student in her final year at M University. Rita was born in NJ, China and immigrated to Melbourne with her mother at age eight while her father travelled frequently between China and Australia on business. By the time of the interview, Rita had already applied for the suspension of her studies.

After finishing high school, Rita faced uncertainty about her career direction. She decided to enrol in the dietetics program at her university largely by chance. The idea of working with food had sounded appealing at first, but once she understood what the program truly entailed, it did not align with her expectations, and she quickly questioned whether it was the right path for her.

Rita’s decision to study dietetics was not a fully planned choice. She described herself during that period strongly influenced by her social circle. She admitted that she had not fully considered her own academic strengths or her comfort with English before enrolling. In practice, the decision was made almost by accident at the career seminar she attended with her friend. Rita said that she went along with her friend’s interest because she trusted her peer’s enthusiasm. In hindsight, Rita recognised that she had not proactively researched the dietetics program; she simply followed her friend’s lead without careful consideration.

Family influences played an important role in Rita’s narrative. Rita’s parents had emigrated with the primary goal of establishing a stable life in Australia, and Rita felt they left her largely on her own to make educational decisions. Her father’s frequent trips meant he was often absent, and her mother, though caring and supportive, also looked to Rita’s friends for guidance on what choices to make. While her parents did not dictate a specific field for her, Rita sensed an unspoken expectation that she must complete a university degree. Because of this pressure, she even considered choosing “a major that is popular among international students” just to satisfy her family. At the same time, her parents often reminded her to be grateful for their sacrifices. If she ever expressed doubt or guilt about her studies, they would say, “If you feel guilty, you should study hard and find a good job to repay us.” Since Rita wasn’t contributing income while living at home, she felt expected to “pay them back by doing chores” to show her appreciation.

Rita’s peer group also significantly shaped her university experience. Early on, Rita found the nutrition coursework challenging to grasp, both because of its content and because of the language it was taught in. The field was, as she put it, “interdisciplinary, blending biology and medicine”. She found university harder than high school. Over time, however, she realised that studying with her Mandarin-speaking friends significantly eased her comprehension. She and her friends would frequently review lecture materials in their native language, translating key terms so she could grasp concepts fully. This collaborative approach gradually built her confidence in tackling coursework in English. Rita formed study groups with these peers, finding that the shared language and cultural understanding made the academic journey more manageable.

By the time she reached the final year of her degree, Rita’s initial excitement about nutrition had waned. She began to feel like an outsider in her classes, sensing that her linguistic and cultural background set her apart from many of her Australian peers. This growing self-awareness led her to question whether she was a good fit for the dietetics program and for that career path. Ultimately, feeling somewhat disconnected in the classroom, she chose to step back from her studies.

Rita’s narrative highlights the complex interplay of cultural background, language and education. Growing up in a Chinese-speaking household in Melbourne, she had to balance two worlds. At home, Mandarin was the language of comfort and personal expression, while at university she had to navigate an English-speaking academic environment. She noted that expressing herself in Mandarin during the interview allowed her to convey nuances she might have lost in English. At the same time, she learned to adapt to Australian educational norms and an English-language curriculum. These bicultural dynamics shaped Rita’s experiences and decisions throughout her studies. Over time, she began to appreciate aspects of both educational cultures – adopting the collaborative, inquisitive style of her Australian classes while also valuing the thoroughness instilled by her Chinese schooling.

Although Rita has now paused her formal studies, she continues to reflect on her experiences and consider new directions. She is reevaluating her goals and recognises the importance of aligning her choices with her own background and strengths. Rita remarked on how easy it had been to drift along with others’ decisions in the past, and she now emphasises the need to take more initiative in planning her future. As part of this reflection, she has also gained a deeper appreciation for her parents’ intentions. “Gradually, I came to understand that no matter what conflict I had with my mom, she is always the one who cares about me the most,” Rita said. People told her that only if you become a parent yourself can you truly appreciate your own parents; and while Rita admitted “I don’t think I understand them now”, she hopes that in the future she will “absorb the meaning of their love and painstaking parenting” and find a way to “repay everything they did for me”. Today, Rita feels that her family and friends remain supportive as she figures out her next steps. Her parents encourage her to follow her own interests, and her peer group continues to offer guidance and understanding. Rita mentioned that if she does return to university, it will be with a more deliberate plan, likely in a field that is a better fit for her identity and abilities.

At 14 years old, Qing immigrated to Australia with her family, for a new life in Melbourne. Stepping into an Australian high school, she felt culture shock. She was very nervous and used a dictionary to follow along. This early language barrier meant Qing had to position herself as an exceptionally hardworking student from the start.

Despite her efforts to assimilate, Qing was constantly reminded of her difference. Classmates would often ask, “Where are you from?” even when she’d already explained her background. “I’d say I’m from China,” Qing noted, “but after a while, I started saying I’m from Australia – and still they’d respond, ‘No, where are you really from?’” Such interactions unsettled her teenage sense of belonging. Each time she was asked this question; Qing became acutely aware of being seen as an outsider. “It made me feel like I didn’t fully belong, even though I thought of Australia as home,” she reflected. Still, these experiences also fuelled her resolve. Qing’s strategy was to integrate by excelling: if she could achieve top grades and speak fluent English, perhaps the question of “where are you from” would fade away. In this way, her early schooling years were defined by a balancing act between learning a new culture and maintaining pride in her Chinese roots, all while trying to fit in.

Qing carried her academic determination into university, where she pursued an undergraduate degree in Engineering. She moved to Sydney for her studies, an experience that brought new autonomy but also new cultural adjustments. In lectures and tutorials, Qing encountered a learning environment that encouraged open debate and active participation, a stark contrast to the more hierarchical, lecture-focused style she was used to. “I was used to being quiet and listening in class,” she explained, “but in Australia they expect you to speak up. Professors would ask for my opinion, and I had to get used to that.” Initially, she felt out of place among classmates who seemed so at ease interacting with teachers. Group projects and class discussions were challenging; Qing often worried about whether her ideas would be understood or valued.

Over time, she found ways to adapt. Qing formed a small circle of friends who provided both academic and moral support during her uni years. “My friends in uni really supported me, we studied together, and they’d explain things I didn’t understand,” she said. With their help, she gained confidence in navigating the university’s cultural expectations. By her final year, Qing was not only answering the perennial “Where are you from?” question with a proud “I’m Chinese Australian” but also feeling a growing sense of legitimacy on campus. Still, the competitive academic environment could be intense. Surrounded by high-achieving peers, she sometimes felt a sense of isolation in her efforts to keep up. “I felt like I had to work twice as hard as everyone else,” Qing admitted. This mindset reinforced how she reflexively saw herself, a tireless striver who would put in whatever effort was necessary to succeed. Her academic accomplishments (and eventual graduation with honours) stood as testament to that perseverance. In class and on campus, Qing had learned to navigate between two educational cultures, blending the respect and discipline of her upbringing with the assertiveness expected in Australian higher education.

Throughout Qing’s educational journey, one constant source of motivation came from her family’s expectations. In her household, educational success was seen as the key to a good life, and this belief travelled with them from China to Australia. “My parents always stressed the importance of education,” Qing recalled. “They would say, ‘We came here so you could have a better future.’” This family narrative instilled in Qing a strong sense of duty to excel academically. She knew her parents had sacrificed a comfortable life back home to migrate, and she positioned herself as the responsible daughter who must validate that sacrifice. Choosing to study engineering was influenced by these expectations as well. “Engineering seemed like a practical, respectable choice,” she noted, “and I knew it would make my parents proud.”

While Qing was grateful for her parents’ guidance, meeting their high expectations was not always easy. There were moments of tension when her personal interests did not perfectly align with family wishes. For instance, during one semester when she struggled with a particularly tough course, her parents’ concern was palpable. “They would ask why I got a lower grade, or remind me how much was at stake,” Qing said. This pressure was a double-edged sword: on one hand, it pushed her to persevere, but on the other, it added to her stress. She often felt “positioned” by her family as the achiever in whom so many hopes were invested. Qing learned to negotiate these expectations by maintaining open communication with her parents about her goals. When she decided to pursue a PhD after her bachelor’s, it was a decision born from her own academic passion, but it also aligned with her family’s aspirations for her. “In the end, I wanted it for myself too, not just for them,” she reflected, highlighting how she found personal fulfilment within the framework of familial expectations.

After completing her undergraduate degree, Qing entered the workforce as a junior engineer in Sydney. This transition from student life to a professional setting was an education. On her first day in the office, she was struck by the casual interactions and the flat hierarchy between managers and staff, a stark contrast to the more formal, deferential work culture she had observed in Asia. Qing said with a laugh, in meetings, she initially held back, worried her ideas might be dismissed due to her accent or her quiet demeanour. Some colleagues did underestimate her at first, seeing her through the lens of a soft-spoken Asian woman rather than as the capable engineer she was. This is where interactive positioning became evident: others’ perceptions sometimes boxed her into a stereotype of the shy, diligent worker. “I realised some people thought I was just going to nod and do the work quietly,” she recounted, “so I had to prove them wrong.”

Prove them wrong she did. Qing consciously worked on asserting herself in the workplace. She volunteered for project lead roles and voiced her opinions on technical matters whenever she had expertise to share. “I had to push myself to speak up,” she explained. “Once I did, I noticed people started to respect my ideas.” Over time, Qing found a balance between maintaining her cultural roots, such as her emphasis on humility and teamwork, and adapting to Western corporate norms that often require self-promotion and direct communication. She transformed what could have been a vulnerability (being seen as an outsider) into an asset, often acting as a bridge in multicultural teams with her bilingual skills and international perspective.

Seeking further growth, Qing later transitioned back into academia as a PhD candidate in Engineering at a Melbourne university. This move marked another major life change from industry back to the university environment, now as both a student and an instructor. “Becoming a doctoral student felt like starting over,” she said. “I went from working full-time to spending nights in the lab and teaching undergrads during the day.” In her new role, Qing again encountered the need to adjust. Teaching Australian undergraduates as a tutor was initially daunting. She worried: would students respect her authority? Would they find her lectures engaging? “At first I was nervous about my accent and teaching style,” Qing admitted, “but I prepared thoroughly and reminded myself that I have knowledge to offer.” As she gained experience, she grew into the role, even earning positive feedback from students. Still, the competitive academic atmosphere of a PhD program presented its own challenges. There were moments of loneliness when she was the only woman or the only person of Chinese heritage in a research group, and she felt the weight of representing her community. In those moments, Qing leaned on a few close fellow PhD candidates and mentors for support. Together, they formed a mini community that shared advice and encouragement, mitigating the sense of isolation.

Through these professional and academic transitions, Qing has continuously reshaped her identity as a young professional. She is keenly aware of how she is positioned by others in these settings, whether as the “diverse hire” in a company or the token international student in a seminar, but she actively resists being defined by any single label. By excelling in her work and studies, she has earned recognition on her own terms.

Navigating between cultures has been a lifelong journey for Qing, and it remains an ongoing process of identity negotiation. Now in her 30 s, having spent over half her life in Australia, she finds herself comfortably straddling her Chinese heritage and Australian upbringing. Yet, the question “Where are you from?” still crops up in new social or professional encounters, reminding her that others often see her as not fully Australian. Qing described this feeling candidly: “Sometimes I wonder, am I Chinese, Australian, or something in between? I’ve realised I’m a mix of both.” This realisation has become a source of strength. She reflexively positions herself as a bicultural individual, someone who can draw on the richness of both backgrounds. “I don’t have to choose one or the other,” she reflected. “I can be proud to be Chinese and Australian at the same time.”

Qing’s sense of self is increasingly participant-driven and agentic, meaning she chooses how to define her identity rather than letting others define it for her. That said, she is mindful of interactive positioning in different contexts. In her academic life, for example, she sometimes finds that she’s seen as a representative of Chinese students or international scholars. In those moments, Qing takes care to voice not just her personal perspective but also to provide context about her culture when needed, effectively educating others and challenging their assumptions. Among family in China, conversely, she might be playfully called “the Aussie girl” for her Western habits. Negotiating these dual perceptions has taught Qing to be fluid and adaptable.

Reflecting on her journey, Qing’s storytelling carries a tone of growth and self-reflection. “I’ve learned that fitting in doesn’t mean losing who you are,” she said. “It can mean adding new parts to yourself.” From a teenager who felt she had to hide her lunch in the school cafeteria because it looked different, to a confident engineer and academic who mentors newer immigrants, Qing has indeed added many “parts” to herself. She embodies a hybrid identity that challenges simple categorisation. Her story illustrates how a young Chinese Australian woman can negotiate cultural and academic challenges by positioning herself as a lifelong learner and an active agent in her own story. In doing so, Qing not only finds a sense of belonging on her own terms but also contributes a unique voice to both her cultures.

These cases illustrate the evolution of the participants within academic and social contexts. The following discussion will synthesise these findings and explore their implications for education policy and practice.

This study used positioning theory to examine how two 1.5-generation Chinese Australian women negotiated cultural identity, family expectations, peer relationships and institutional norms throughout their higher education journeys. Our analysis reveals that their academic trajectories were shaped through ongoing reflexive positioning and interactive positioning across family, peer and institutional contexts (Davies and Harré, 1990).

Consistent with Zimmerman Nilsson et al.’s (2025) integrative review, family emerged as simultaneously constraining and facilitating both an enabler and an aggravator for both participants. Rita experienced unspoken pressure to “repay” parental sacrifice through academic success, reflecting Chao and Tseng’s (2002) observation that Asian parents’ high expectations function as strategies for ensuring children’s social mobility. Qing’s experience mirrored the supportive dimensions Zimmerman Nilsson et al. identify, yet she had to negotiate between personal academic passions and the “practical, respectable” pathway of engineering that would make her parents proud, illustrating Sun et al.'s (2019) concept of dual filial piety. Both narratives reflect Wu and Wu’s (2015) finding that immigrant women experience guilt when educational pursuits challenge traditional family roles.

Peer relationships constituted another critical dimension. Rita’s Mandarin-speaking friends provided vital academic scaffolding, reflecting Dahya and Dryden-Peterson’s (2016) finding that peer networks offer crucial guidance for navigating unfamiliar educational systems. However, peer influence also constrained: Rita’s enrolment decision “almost by accident” at a friend’s career seminar illustrates Akosah-Twumasi et al.’s (2021) observation that peers may constrain when their choices misalign with individual aptitudes.

Both participants navigated what Chu (2024) terms double marginalisation due to ethnic identity and gender within predominantly white institutions. Rita’s feeling of being “like an outsider” resonates with Thakurta et al.'s (2024) findings on South Asian international students encountering majoritarian stories that undermine belonging. Qing’s persistent encounters with “Where are you from?” exemplifies the “perpetual foreigner” label (Montgomery and Ghosh, 2025), reflecting Gatwiri and Udah’s (2023) analysis of how Coloniality of Power operates in Australian higher education, racialising minoritised individuals as Other while marginalising their intellectual contributions.

Applying Crenshaw’s (1991) intersectionality framework illuminates how overlapping systems, race, gender, immigration status created unique configurations of disadvantage. Qing’s workplace experience of being seen through “the lens of a soft-spoken Asian woman rather than as the capable engineer she was” illustrates what Sim et al. (2024) document among international Asian women scholars: navigating gendered assumptions about authority. Her strategic response, asserting herself, volunteering for leadership roles, demonstrates agency in resisting being “defined by any single label.”

The moral order central to positioning theory held tension for both women. As Van Langenhove (2017) notes, immigrant women navigate multiple moral orders: filial obligations, Australian academic expectations and gendered norms within both cultural contexts. Qing’s reflection that “fitting in doesn’t mean losing who you are” captures this ongoing negotiation.

Our findings reveal gaps in existing Australian frameworks. Carangio et al. (2021) warn that neglecting skilled immigrant women’s potential risks “brain waste”, a concern equally applicable to higher education. If universities fail to retain and support 1.5-generation women, their talents may go underutilised. As Zimmerman Nilsson et al. (2025) conclude, the predominant focus on constraints rather than facilitators points to the need for studies that capture full complexity and inform genuinely supportive institutional responses.

This narrative pilot study demonstrates how YACFIs actively negotiate hybrid identities between Chinese cultural expectations and Australian academic norms. Cultural values such as Confucian filial piety intensified pressure to prioritise collective expectations over personal goals, while institutional discourses shaped participants’ positioning and sense of belonging. Consistent with broader research, findings underscore that familial, peer and institutional factors interact to influence migrant-background students’ inclusion. Higher education policy should therefore expand targeted supports, culturally responsive mentoring, inclusive curricula and accessible language assistance, to foster genuine belonging. The narrative approach yielded rich accounts of an under-researched population, demonstrating the value of capturing lived experiences to inform equity frameworks that genuinely serve Australia’s diverse student body.